Dark Poetry Prose Poetry November 22, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

11-22-04 10:36pm monday

thy kingdom. the sky. the earth. the deepest parts of the ocean. simultaenously giving life and taking from.

my dark. my night. my hours to myself. my fortress and my dungeon.

your bible. your purpose. fiction.

your god. your heavens. your fairy tales. my burden.

my country. my birthplace. never have i felt more alienated. more disregarded. more displaced. unwelcome.

it's my country too. not only yours. more fiction.

fuck the red states. fuck the blue ones. fuck all of you who'd sit back and let him steal another election.

fuck the media for their selective truths. fuck ralph nader for taking money from the repulicans to steal kerry's votes. fuck everyone who went out to the polls thinking it actually counted.

fuck all the idiots who believe the name they selected on that touch screen is actually the vote they cast. fuck anyone who believes choice is something that we have.

fuck everyone who adorned their cars with american flags after the 'terrorist' attacks. fuck everyone who blames iran, iraq. the real villains are much closer to home than that.

11-22-04 monday 11:10pm

it's your world. not mine. their freedom. as they see fit. as their gods prescribe.

it's your electric chairs. your criminals. your victims. i'm innocent. i only wanted to live and let live. but have been deprived of that privilege.

it's your children. stark reflections unkind. tiny soliders in your own image to fight in the future the hate wars you've defined.

and then you wonder. then you have the nerve to wonder why life is something i'd rather not particpate in. how can you wonder when my own people act like this.

when freedom rings not for the minorities. nor the oppressed. but only for the wealthy and the violent.

how can i love a world that would abandon the weak. and nuture hate. how can i want to live in a world where hate comes first.

i was born here. raaised under this nation. i'm american. it's true. but america doesn't want me. doesn't want anyone who isn't christian. i was force fed all the same lies. but i didn't swallow them. i was smothered under the same false morality. but i didn't suffocate. i didn't give in.

i believe in our differences. i believe in diversity. i believe in lots of things. but i don't believe in my country.

we are wrong. always have been. you'll find out eventually.

11:25pm monday 11-22-04

make your mark. draw the ink out like a switchblade. i bleed in black. i bleed words. not blood. it's not skin that covers this skeleton. it's pages and pages of hurt.

consuming time as you do. your appetite unaffected by your circumstance. hunger breeds much faster under the pressure. hunger mutliplies rapid.

there's no time. no time to be. what you wanted to. so you become. as obligation demands. you become what they need from you.

there's a sentence on the back door. you won't find it unless you look behind. admit that there are alternate entrances.

i don't care. at all. these wings they don't seek to fly again. these clouds have no urge to rain.

i don't care. it doesn't matter if you don't let it. step in that wet cement. leave a footprint. but no one will know whose it is.

plenty happens when you weren't even trying. it sneaks up and invades your life with the ghosts of happiness.

there are no devils. no angels. only ourselves to contend with.

so many people. so few friends.