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Category: Writing and Poetry
There are a couple recorded versions of this on the page...
Thank you to Cassandra Tribe (yet again) for all her help and guidance with this piece :)
(We Are) More Than This
Too many poems start with a definition We all know what the fuck malpractice is No matter the truth of the situation though I can’t go into details due to ‘pending litigation’ Because we all know that the truth ain’t the truth until a f’k’n judge says so
This is what we’ve become
The ghosts of our ancestors do not approve, We have nothing to be proud of. No reason to separate a shoulder patting ourselves on the back As our egos marvel blindly at our ingenious catastrophe The glory of each sunrise, each birth becomes a miracle squandered Lost in the pursuit of a richer payday, a faster ride, a better piece of ass, a friendlier reality
We are more than this
Scrambling to climb ladders of success We ignore the ladder of evolution because it’s too tall The climb too difficult for these legs already tired from the effort of our performance in this darkness holding our faces up to it as if it were the warm glow of heaven choking on the ignorance we shove down our throats as if it could sustain us
We are more than this
Despite what we were led to believe We are not merely drunken nights spaced out by work’s immeasurable appetite for chain-gang repetition Breaking our souls instead of rocks (We are) not merely a stranger’s steamy groin and groping hands in the dark Reaching for a salvation that will never come in this way Please do not try to sell your rationalizations and justifications to this simple soul, I cannot lie to you and tell you it is ok
because we are more than this
Despite the best efforts of tyrants and zealots We are not jailed journalists, propaganda or lost souls Those seeking earthly power are blind to what it really is, Too busy shouting their greatness from mountaintops of their own creation, incapable of listening We are not ‘ethnic cleansing’ or machetes bloodied in the name of any god (We are) not burning crosses and white robes or the flesh of Stella Byrd’s boy James being scraped away, his screams echoing in a forest of swinging bodies Noose to noose Shackle to shackle Amen
We are more than this
Despite what it says on the asses of sweatpants We are not sluts, baby mamas, bitches or ho’s Mothers are the embodiment of love We are not merely gold teeth, tinted windows or bling Lost in the pursuit of fallacy Cruising streets drenched in the blood of children and calling it territory We are not the puppets of puppets of puppets Perpetuating our own demise (We are) not pawns, experiment subjects or ‘collateral damage’ We are not ‘negative outcomes’ or ‘economic downturns’ It is not for you that our bodies bleed It is not for you that our warriors die They die for us For the promise that we will let go of these shackles, that
we will be more than this
Because our truth can never be silenced or ignored Our hope cannot be reasoned away or dismissed It does not come from within ourselves It comes from our children And they are More than this, They are so much more than this
I am incapable of pretending that they are not
© 2009 Michael Egidio Quigg
3:53 PM
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