The sun is slow To rise here. Obscured by Eastern peaks Light streams and flails Rails and breaks forth Across the valley first Then the waking city… “Wake Up!” A thousand eyes Are above you Looking down Reaching the light Before it’s even near you. Floating, clusters Of characters, colors, Bursts of enthusiasm Blanketing the […]
Looking up Bubbles dot the sky A rainbow of Colorful forms Separate Vessels Full of lives And danger… Hundreds together Inhaling thinner Oxygen than Those below. The roar Tearing through Silent, cloudless Skies, Alarming! Then warming Then lifting Then floating In the parkie Morning…
Forms of birthing grown structures now permanent architecture — Forms of speaking natural structures now permanent nomenclature — Forms of being metamorphic structures now permanent aesthetics
A Tree never stops adding Leaves Everyday, Everyyear… As should be the way of the poet Everyday a New Page Everyyear a New Book Every life a City or village
We enter Asking for your attention The town crier Speaking of the here And the now Present for this expression Of the hearing Spoken in clear and present tense The words of the people So that they may be heard: What they say— How they say— That we may say about them And this place; […]
Beautiful day Ruined By schedules Subjective Of course The day Perfectly happy To be perfect Not bothered by my Objective “Off course, re-routing”
Poetry is a prison Capturing Things Onto Pages Leaving Every thing On the Shelf ||| || |||| Poetry is a privilege Turning Things Into Words ||| /||| | Poetry is a gift Giving Things To The People Saving Things By The People Remembering Things Of The People
Record 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 surroundings Report on the mundane; Everyone write a poem Even if it’s Insane! Tell me All about it Paint the picture True Shout out For your City. Just Let it flow from you.
The poet stands sentinel, memory of the City. I am needed in the streets. Town crier. Breaking Muse. Calling forth the words of this generation. MindScribe. Writing into the minds of the people; making them remember to be free. We must compose a new poetry. Democratic verses aspiring towards our words in common.