(I was inspired to write this poem after attending a poetry slam hosted by my granddaughter. The rhythm and style is my attempt to imitate the new artists.)

 

Chapel, temple, ashram, tepee:

Kneel, bow, sit, stand. Believe or be damned.

Feed the hungry, dress the naked. Confess. Confess.

Guilt disguises herself in good deeds.

 

Embrace the arms of law:

Have faith in the system. Do no harm.

Walk/don’t walk. Stay inside the lines.

Keep curfew. Be responsible. Pay your fines.

Ignorance is no excuse. Obey or face the crime.

Control wears regulation uniforms.

 

Early, elementary, middle, high, lower, upper, post:

Read to be complete. Write of knowledgeable things,

Learn and be respected, or be rejected.

A pressure party of exams and expectations,

potential jobs with long credentials.

Education is buried by degrees.

 

Parents make demands:

Put on a happy face. Know your place.

Wash your hands. Be polite day and night.

Listen, or be lost to social discrimination.

Fear is best served hot under a crust of imitation.

 

The people are speaking revolution:

Work with us for our solution.

We are at the brink. Don’t look, don’t think.

Collaborate through conformity.

Cooperate or be the enemy.

Ignorance snuggles in the bed of unity.

 

I prayed, obeyed, stayed, played the game,

went to school, learned the rules.

I spent myself in trying to please.

I went so far that no one sees

ME anymore –

just the shell of someone else’s dream.

Collateral damage in this war.

 

1/2011

I am a voice in the streets:

Lost in the wind storm of traffic,

In the rushing swirl of others’ deadlines,

In the clatter of coins falling into paper cups,

in the silence of frozen nights

under concrete bridges and cardboard huts.

 

I am the mother you once claimed,

The son who came back maimed

From a war I didn’t understand.

I am the father who failed to provide.

I have no plan, no dream, no pride.

 

I am the daughter who screamed for you to stop

until I crawled into this other land

where you would never look.

 

Then he took my hand, and gave me gloves,

and some kind of backwards love.

He gave me safety and food, and made me happy.

He sent me out and said, Be good to your daddy.

 

All I have to do is remember that he is you.

 

1/20/2011