effing poets...
30/30 challenge: day 2
lately i find inspiration to be a fruit out of seasonsitting
staring blankly at blank pages
blank mind coming up with blank lines
and i blank out until i'm screaming blankity blank blank
profanities at a keyboard staring back at me blankly
as if to say "fuck man... it's not my fault..."
"you can't find enough in the shards of yourself to collect together into something worthwhile."
"you're seemingly unable ability to birth something beautiful is courtesy of your nightfulls of fleeing from that which consumes your every fiber of being."
it spits at me: "coward..."
and sits upon the roll-out shelf of my desk mocking me
so i crack my knuckles
light another cigarette
and approach it like a gunfight
in which i'm the sheriff of this here town
and me and the folks, well, we've had enough of your attitude 'round these parts
firing off, line after line, every bit of myself i have left to give
writing as if by each page that i fill
every sentence that i spill
every single syllabic utternce that i will into existence
i've fulfilled some seminal part of myself and so i bring this
to as many people as there is attention span to spare
as there is spare singles of focus to give to those who would bare every wound inflicted
every problem, issue, development or change that did this to us
and we have nothing but ourselves, but without a voice at all our generation is left
without resonance
so, if out of self-aggrandizing pride or benevolence,
speak as if your breath was meant for nothing but this
Poetry by David W Durney
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Written on 2009-04-18 at 08:30
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