A titles worth of weight

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    • jude
    • says what is status to true life anyways

    A titles worth of weight

    Perhaps I approached you mislead
    Like all those people believing they are something more
    A sweet fairy tail that settles down within you
    A dream that only I can see
    An entire world
    An earth
    A universe
    So obvious and utterly plain to see
    But not to you
    Only to me
    Except for the desperation
    The exhausting respiration
    Seems to state in an obvious way
    A difference in…
    What?
    Reflection, perception…
    Like lighters are, just reminders
    Of a habit keyed to an unwanted past
    I could own the bulk and show them
    But instead I don’t want to touch them at all
    Like as we come into adulthood we hide more and relate less
    Until our true selves are so hidden from public view
    That we cease to be true individuals
    Therefore eliminating the need
    To be treated like human beings
    And this is where it brings us
    To our knees with back breaking labor
    And no one to tell
    No one to understand
    The utter isolation of this land
    It goes so down deep
    The self image we need
    That it takes major excavating
    To relieve the bait were weighting
    Yes, we the people
    Let ourselves go
    Until we are little more than the latest T.V. show
    On the screen
    A bottle, can, and dream
    A pack, a light, a pipe
    Sleeping late and too many late nights
    The Doritos bag
    And fake canned tea
    All telling us they’re better…
    And we believe
    And we forget
    To let
    Our children out to play
    We forget
    To get
    Ourselves back from the pay
    We are ever indebted to giving
    To those whom can call it living
    And it bursts from me until I
    Can barely do anything besides scream
    And shake every person I see
    To say
    WAKE UP!
    And they see, yes, they see that in me
    What I cherish, my wonderful individuality
    Also strikes me down
    In society
    And what I’ve learned
    From all this contradicting
    Stay awake pills with mind drifting
    What I have gleaned from sideways glances and muddle opportune enhances the way I continually bang my head against this wall
    And try not to believe it at all
    That we are paying that 1% to be public,
    Like we all wish we could be
    And damned am I to them when I am
    Everything they think I am
    Damned am I because who paid me
    And who do I think I am
    To sway
    To be
    Whoever it is at that moment is me
    How dare I
    What a freak
    Just like all of them
    Who made it off the street
    To a safe place in the limelight
    Encased by our revelings forever
    How dare I look to be appreciated
    To be any more than what I’m fated
    To feel “teenage” tendencies
    To allow myself to stretch and dream and express myself
    My emptiness from how full I am
    Just like the way that you drink and drink
    But you spit me out

    And this life is ever changing
    Ever swishing rushing roaring rivering wild cutting paths called life creating canyons lakes and estuaries which we all hold separate in our own minds—our worlds—our own universes
    And hold them there—never truly to be shared
    And I know this about you
    And I believe that every river is completely unique, and every human deserves not the privilege, but the life right to their own river path
    And I’m taking my river in a difficult way
    Because this culture we have today
    Is not like water
    But more of a giant machine
    A sort of monstrous black and white dream
    That doesn’t recognize my colors
    Unless,
    I carry
    The color green
    And if you have found yourself this way
    Then you know the machine does sway
    But not in all the different ways
    And you know it often cuts you off
    And damns you up
    Cages your power
    And everyday is a constant struggle
    To either stay straight cold and black and white
    Or to rush wildly with power
    Fierce enough to quench the fire behind
    That coal burning energy yearning draining
    Stealing machine
    To stand up and fight
    Take back our dreams
    Not the dreams of traveling far
    Or standing on stage as a big rock star
    I’m talking about equality, respect
    And the ability
    To freely
    Be you
    And be me

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    devaamido commented on A titles worth of weight

    10-25-2009

    It's true. It is like that. Think of it as a polishing process...smoothing down the rougher edges so others can see & feel you without being hurt

    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    jude’s Poems (20)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Anyways anyways 0
    Doldrums 0
    The Mother 2
    Mind Fuck 3
    Window 1
    about me 2
    Bred for life 2
    Learning 2
    Ocean 1
    Under The Knife 2
    Billy 3
    Americans 2
    A titles worth of weight 1
    Alright 1
    Aspirations 3
    crazy girl 1
    Like a Baby to a Breast 2
    Your House is Waiting 2
    Like Bare Branches 1
    untitled 5