In my blood I feel a calling
coursing through my veins like magic,
like determination flowing
to a purpose I can only
imagine with the hinter mind,
with the base of the medulla;
calling, calling, calling to me
to step out, to be heard, to cry
for justice in a world too old
to heed the wails of lost souls
who sit at the edges of the
table and beg for the piteous scraps
left long after the feast has passed
into a memory jaded
and gilted with provocation
that punishes the poverty
of those dispossessed, forgotten,
and left to expire in a world
that has devalued the lost souls
that are the foundation of wealth. . .
And I weep in my inaction.
Comments
primal drum workshop
I really liked this poem. Especially the imagery. You must have gotten some good vision from the drumming. Bravo!
B9Pat
Thank you for the feedback
It is appreciated.
I'm getting the 'feel' of trance poetry
but the content suggests you did not in fact go very deep, there is a lot of forebrain thought there.
This sort of work definitely deepens with experience. Please try it several more times if you're up for it. No need to produce a piece from each one.
I am in agreement...
with Jess. I do understand the poem and I can appreciate the thoughts and your emotion. I too, had a little difficulty in going deeper and getting it. It should be only vaguely connected thoughts that may or may not be about the same subject. I know that you must have, at one time or another, tried some of the techniques of freeing your mind of the everyday thoughts, In order to achieve a sense of calm and focus before a tournament. That may work here. ~ Gee.
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