Verity and Rhythm

Sweet song of discord,
I enter this space.
throat full of resistance,
some whisper thick wisdom
crowds around me,
protest chant channels
bright and sour notes,
a strand of golden beads.
I trespass, stand in this space,
adjacent to story or struggle,
voice, a weathered thread,
small in the work of just,
belly full of season and leaf fall.
We all have heavy lifting
inside these broken hearts.

One day sharp lines will lie
in lightening, shutter sky
a gaping wound.
I come with numb
and swollen self. My dignity
competes with bell and clutter
slow rumble of fear and brave,
salt granule swallowed
inside rain or rolling tide;
clog and disorder,
the tune of gray sky,
ball and chain, black eye.
With one pen, one life
full of gleam and tear,
I seek some crooked letter
trail to the truth.

What must I do to be human?

 

 

Thanks to Mark Lomax (percussion), Barbara Fant (poet), Scott Woods (poet), and Carnell Willoughby (Emcee)

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Categories: Poetry, Writing

No comments yet.

Have a comment or reply?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: