one of them shit fuck damn poets
2003-03-28, 9:13 p.m.
I write because I didn't know I had a choice,
Didn't know I had a voice outside of
rhythm and rhyme
syntax and time
structure and
grimy slampoets
paid with pizza coupons
and five dollar bills,
paving their ways with papertowel poetry
and paperback hardcopies.
Don't give a shit about Shakespeare
and his fourteen line sonnets -
Give me Dylan any day,
Dylan was onto somethin'...
Don't give a shit about Delgado,
Eldorado, Ovid, or Plato,
Don't give a shit about the meaning -
I just like the way the words flow,
Slipping like soapsuds off the tip of my tongue,
Careening through soundwaves,
Landing on your lips, fully hung
Where it is your choice
To take them
and eat them
or leave them for the hungry kids
who are simply starving for the truth.
I write because I didn't know I had a choice,
Didn't know I had a chance
to be something else
besides one of them shit, fuck, damn poets
one of them don't give a fuck poets
one of them fuck with me and i'll
fuck you up poets.
Been told to clean it up,
Make it pretty for little girl ears,
But I ain't got no other way
to make my message clear
and loud
and loud and clear
and here.
right. here.
right. now.
This is me.
One of them shit, fuck, damn poets;
one of them cunt, cock, cocaine poets.
I will never give you sunshine
and rain poetry,
Never give you flowers and
mainstream poetry.
And you can give me your 7.9s
and I'll retort by getting up here each and
every time. i. can.
Trying to flood out all the bullshit
you've been spoonfed
by mommy and daddy,
carter, reagan, bush,
push you to see what kids like me gotta' go through.
And you can tell me to clean it all up
but until you can help me
stop little girls from being raped by drunken daddies,
clean those little girls up off the street,
bring Matthew Shepherd back
and Martin Luther King back
Let freedom TRULY ring
and hear my sisters sing about what TRUE. love. is.
I won't.
shut.
up.
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