PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The more ultimatums we accumulate and endure
voices dictating to us who we are
be it friend, self, or foe
past, present, or future

These boulders bear upon beleaguered brawn

The eyesight we see this world through
becomes tarnished, jagged, bloodshot like a rusty mirror mounted firmly upon streaked self-reflection

Reckoning isn’t a salve, and knowledge is as practical as a blanket in the night desert
Sure, we acknowledge our sweltering brow, we congratulate ourselves fully

on solid granite

Upon a strongly-crusted surface

But our memories still run aground black sands..

It wears upon us wholly-
Minds and bodies becoming destructive filth

These hands an explosive force
This mouth a detonator
billowing excremental jargon
about some cliché happy-go-lucky ideological phraseology
that I tell myself to live within to be regarded as normal, conventional

Understand that the truth is
everybody's life expectancy is zero eventually

and there is no tomorrow in this steel cage with these chips on our shoulders
and a mache heart, blood seeping adrift from the spirit

Until I break the metal that binds
hardened mental vices
with teeth gnashed
A mental inferno will rage on.

No, I should not allow the skewed mindsets of others
To dictate the shift of gravitas on the voyage

A call to action must commence and rightfully so

When I tear this apart
One.
Bar.
At.
A.
Time.

Still consumed with ill-tempered expectations that shorten a sanity that we cannot track or retract anyway

Why not let go?

One.
Bar.
At.
A.
Time.

I let it go until a spring in the step emerges

and a sigh of exhausting triumph crosses my lips

Reemerging as a blaze so engulfed by potential
yet so splintered
and hollowed with glowing embers

I relinquish an aging spirit

its legacy a product of fables, saving my memory in others

Without question or conviction, a rush looms
Overly eager and pleasantly educated

The question must be asked in the fray, 'Have I learned *nothing* to protect us again? or protect *everything* there was that mattered?'

I set to sail a noble destination
that when the wanted become the willing
and when passion hits the back of my tongue
it won’t taste sordid
or forced in
because I love all of the flavors
of clever mental behavior
.
I pinpoint this attention span
to the sheer concept of contempt evoking

An emergence of hoping
in a luminous hue

Firmly choking
these happily-never-afters
in a steadfast manner.

And as acceptance looms'

I will wake up to a lighter dawn
with a brighter disposition
and a tighter grasp on reality