First World Slam Poetry

My tongue burns with rage.
What’s this shit?
Hot. Hot shit.
Burning my tongue.
Rage
percolating,
dripping,
oozing
Spilling over the side.

Rage
Staining my shirt
Spitting my anger Anger
dripping from the corners of my conscience.

Cool. Cool. Cooled. By milk
That’s how a latte should be.

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Lake

A million flashes
Thousands of  cameras
Serenity
Paparazzi of contentment

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Future

The future
Once so bright I had to wear shades

Now I wear shades
Shades to protect my eyes
From the malevolent sun
Brightness no longer welcoming

Shades
Blocking
Obstructing
Interfering
Hampering
And a whole bunch of other words
All ending in ‘ing’

Constrained by pretense
Training
Listening
Cliches
Not caring if it’s spelled correctly
But apologizing nonetheless

There was a moment when stream of consciousness mirrored the sole or is that soul and ran on and on One thought without intervention without intention without music without purpose and that used to be called poetry by those who knew poetry as it was then as it is now without any hint of where the poem begins other than the beginning which is without ending except everything has to end

Eventually.

The universe is finite
Except that it’s infinite
Depends on the book
The Day
The Scholar

It is popular to right or is that write about the surface of life
Do words matter more than presentation
Effect
Affect
Impact

My fellow poets write about how they interact with their world
Offering glimpses of street scenes veiled as comments on humanity
“Reflecting” the world they see while claiming to interpret “it”

So important these reflections
So urgent
The style important
How it’s presented critical
Not staying to hear other styles
Showing up, saying their piece
Leaving to say it somewhere else

Leaving the audience slammed
But the poem, like the messenger
Meaningless
Images
Shallow
Hollow
The Ocean
A Pool

Dive in head first
Broken Neck
Years of rehabilitation
From one misguided leap…

Faith is for the young
I read the news
The news
A 45 Year old man breaks neck
Cliff-Diving

If you read that
Know
As his head slammed
Against the rock
As he felt his legs
For the last time
He lept (my spell-checker thinks leaped but I know better)
Anyway, he lept or leaped
Following his youth

Or more likely the 22 year old
He left his wife of 22 years
To escape to Hawaii
Wanting to recapture the future

A future crushed
Like his vertebra
Not by the rocks

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Saving a Friend

I saved the life of friend today. 
We met last night.  
He was minding his business.
I was sipping a glass of wine
Listening to the whir of the ceiling fans
The crickets and
Late evening calls of the birds.
A dog was barking in the distance.
Desperate for a friend of his own
Alone among so many, searching.

I wanted a nice, quiet evening.
My friend wanted to start his life
He had spent his early life encased in mud
Surrounded by darkness.
Spiders his sole companions.

Longing to be free
He reached for the highest point
Only to find his limit.
He could sense the light.
He could sense his future.
Helpless to reach it.

It was here we met.
Me, comforted by the barriers.
He, chained by them.
Wanting to see the world for the first time.
Neither of us happy to make each other’s acquaintance.
Both afraid.
Me, of this intruder in my sanctuary.
He, of never escaping this prison.

At first, I thought he wanted to do me harm.
Piercing black eyes.
He was menacing, grotesque.
Living inside dark tubes of night
Feeding off decaying remains of life
Left by his well-intentioned mother with nothing but darkness.
Escaping comforting confinement only to find this:
A light and a world, he could see
But not reach.

I approached him with caution.
His sinister appearance made me want to kill him.
But as I approached, he showed no response.
I welcomed his indifference.

Watching him struggle
Fear became Sadness.
Sadness became Action.
Action failed. Once.

I built these walls.
I knew how to get out.
I chose not to.

My friend, lacking this awareness
New to this world
Flailed against his confines.
Hopelessly smashing against the barrier
Between him and his life.
He was unable to find the door.
The door I opened.

I nearly gave up.
The risk of getting too close
Of making contact with this creature
Was too great.
I did not want to be stung
Saving this poor soul.

I retreated to my inner sanctuary.
I tried to ignore his struggle.
I wanted him to go away.

He wanted to go away.
He had one mission.
Find Freedom.

Finally, I took the risk.
I climbed up to where he was.
A place I had feared
I stared directly into those eyes.
I found his suffering.
I could see his soul.

I moved quickly, carefully
To remove the barrier.
I looked into my own soul
Resigning myself to the fact
He might lash out at me.
I might get hurt saving him.
Knowing that he could not save me
Even if he wanted to.
His life, left him incapable of gratitude.

As I removed the barrier
I watched him.
He left.

I put the barrier back.

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