Poem for Day 052 – 20150223
What kind of world should I generate?
Fingertips hold poetic tools of destruction,
ready to convince you of terrible shared reality
as I spin my words glibly from the tongue.
I could wring my poetic hands,
damp with the blood of defeated foes,
bludgeoned with my angry words
and stabbed with vindictive prose.
My pain could stain the walls,
Rivers of bile discouraged from within,
Rivulets of torture expressed without,
smeared across your surprised psyche.
Spew my angst across the page,
that will get your attention,
touch a nerve or two within,
twist your guts in sympathy.
Now that I’ve got your throat
Held tightly in my prose,
I’ll go for the emotional jugular
and we’re joined in shared turmoil.
This is the world I’ll generate,
Poetry designed to intimidate.
A verbal Armageddon,
raze the page, set words ablaze.
Is this the kind of world I want for myself?
It is, if I want to be burned alive.
Words define my reality,
for good, bad, or ugly.
So know this kind reader,
Journeyer of similar soul,
I may share the anger with you,
but I still believe in the good.
© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved