the beatnik pagan poet (beatnikbetty) wrote in writerssociety,
the beatnik pagan poet

three pieces: feedback welcome

Hello fellow poets. I have a couple of pieces to share this evening.

August 25, 2005
War of Words

What? Do you think you're a poet or something?
You think anyone cares about what you have to say?
So you think the wind blows
just to send you soft breezes?
You think hurricanes come through
just to rain purification for you?

Who are you to think
that ink of pen flows
like a river from your heart,
that paper lays itself naked before you
just for your compositional caress?

You are trippin'!
On your own ego!

You think you're worthy
of the mighty Western Alphabet!
You think you're the next
Emily Dickensen, don't you?
Or Sylvia Plath -
Ha! Good! Go kill yourself already!
Drown in the flood
of your own verbal misery!

Is it words that chain you down
or words that set you free?
When you put the pen to paper
is it what you wanted to see?

What do you think you're a poet?
Do you pretend to have rhythm or soul?
Do you think as you cry out
the prose of your pain
that someone else hearing it
will embrace the falling rain?

That's whack! Unbelievable!
Entirely insane!
To think your crazy ramblings
are worthy of respect or fame!

So go on home!
Go to school!
You sound like a pathetic
worthless fool.
That's why your job sucks
and you can't make any cash!

You write too much
and think too much
instead of doing things like me.

You think you're actually a writer,
Well hello! I'm the Sorry Poet Fighter;
I jab and I punch,
I provoke and rock the boat,
and try to knock you off your pedestal,
knock the pen out of your hand
knock some sense into that head of yours
and altogether break your tune.

I'm a creativity cock-blocker,
I'm even worse than writer's block,
because instead of just silence
I spew destructive shit-talk!
Nothing that helps to inspire,
not even to cause a spark,
I'm the wretched voice in your head
that tells you: "You Cannot!"

September 10, 2005
on modern suffering

"Yoga and Healing" it says
on a sign over a doorway
at the corner of a busy city-block,
yet everyone passing by
is sick, stiff-necked and suffering.

It's money and oil, oil and money.
You need the money to get the oil
but need the oil to reach the money.

"Knowledge is power"
says the motto emblazened
upon my generation
yet you need the power
so you can have the money
to afford the rising cost of knowledge.

And the knowledge is a grab bag,
mixtures of opinion
from left and right,
from history or herstory.

You need all the facts
to know the true story
and the story is somewhere hiding
within the pages of truth.

We've forgotten how
the future ends.

Did we leave ourselves drowning in money?
or buried in oil?
Did divine intervention
come down here to heal
and save this fragile mortal coil?

November 5, 2005
Prose about politics and sociology

if you can't trust me with a choice
how can you trust me with a child?

if i can't use the sound of my own voice
then how is my life and soul at all worthwhile?

i watch the people in charge as they
flash around the TV and radio,
blowing fear around,
along with the skewed news,

blogger-voice opinions,

and the many different people of this nation
making declarations of their faith.
making demands upon our culture
to evolve.

all of these leaders, these media feeders
are creating a complicated conundrum of cultural clash,
at least on the surface,
because we, the people, are tired of this war,
tired of this fight,
thoroughly exhausted of the rights we have earned
and deserve
being put up on display and made mockery of.

even the wars in our local elections clearly show
that we are segregated now
more than we have ever been before
in history.

when will these declarations of culture and faith
tell the real story of its people?
when will this circus of conservative morality
find its essence, and be able to express it
without force?

Though I assure you, this is not one-sided.

The liberal minds are fumbling in the dark,
trying to find a way out of their denial
that the entire system is flawed, is corrupted,

and America awaits their bipartisan,
polypartisan, reawakening,

and until then, we are subject to the decrees
by people whom are not affected.

in the heart of this country,
in the bubbling heat of the cauldron whose fire
has been burning for centuries,
since the Founding Fathers materialized their visions
for a land of freedom, liberty, opportunity,
for the New World to emerge
when the ingredients reach their incubation point,

in this melting pot,
the people stir and their senses awaken
as each of us are subjected, and somehow affected by
the ignorance and authoritarianism
that threatens our peace of mind, and right to live.

and the cooks in the kitchen
are concocting something poisonous.

but the real disease that threatens our stability
is the coldness of humanity
conspiring to put out this flame,
to desecrate the potion brew
that would have fed our hungry souls.

its the fire that is our essence.
its the courage and heart to step forward,
to speak of the many sparks that all work together
to keep the bonfire burning.

there are so many issues
that divide, that seek to conquer,
and there are so many possibilities
for every flame to burn its brightest,
for every light to shine its highest,
for every heart to beat and mouth to speak,
for every need to be filled,
every prayer to be heard,
every wish to be granted,

for the space and time and resources
to build a world of beauty and greatness.

but the fire must stay lit.
the flame must stay alive.
as the landscape changes
do not be afraid
but lift your voice up higher
and sing out to the heavens
that the light will shine upon us,
each and every one of us,
and bring us together in mind, heart and soul
that we may each journey upon
our individual destined paths.

There is not One Mind,
but there is
One Love.

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