You Know Who in The Hell You Are Not Playing For (We Are All Performing At Being)
by Darryl Price
I've been avoiding
your beautiful fact for years in just the past few hours it seems
like it was the scariest plague on earth. And
it worries me because
it's something so new that I
don't know what to do
with myself.Yes I wouldn't know
what to say that doesn't
sound like a stupid cowardly lie any way.
You deserve something
from a poet, that's
obvious, but why
does it have to be from these few words from the likes of someone like
me? I mean I'd be
honored by your mind
and mine holding hands,
so to speak, but you
can do so much better.
Can't you hear that awful chewing sound, that loud
buzzing away? That's all for you, baby, as they say.
A whole hive of brand
new pollinators just
chomping at the chance
to build for you your
very own sky full
of stars. Not one of them would
equal your own sweetest
thoughts, if you ask me, but don't
listen to that if your parents tell you not to. Let
them call you their favorite moon of all nights to come,
let them bestow upon
your brow the mantle
of timelessness.
You'll rise above it. There's
more beauty to come in the
arc of a lifetime. Just
don't let them turn you
into a lamp. Okay? You're
not made for one room
only. I've already said enough,
way too much as a matter of fact. Much more than I intended to let drop out of my heart's nest this time around. Do me a favor.
Please, remember me.
021910
your beautiful fact for years in just the past few hours it seems
like it was the scariest plague on earth. And
it worries me because
it's something so new that I
don't know what to do
with myself.Yes I wouldn't know
what to say that doesn't
sound like a stupid cowardly lie any way.
You deserve something
from a poet, that's
obvious, but why
does it have to be from these few words from the likes of someone like
me? I mean I'd be
honored by your mind
and mine holding hands,
so to speak, but you
can do so much better.
Can't you hear that awful chewing sound, that loud
buzzing away? That's all for you, baby, as they say.
A whole hive of brand
new pollinators just
chomping at the chance
to build for you your
very own sky full
of stars. Not one of them would
equal your own sweetest
thoughts, if you ask me, but don't
listen to that if your parents tell you not to. Let
them call you their favorite moon of all nights to come,
let them bestow upon
your brow the mantle
of timelessness.
You'll rise above it. There's
more beauty to come in the
arc of a lifetime. Just
don't let them turn you
into a lamp. Okay? You're
not made for one room
only. I've already said enough,
way too much as a matter of fact. Much more than I intended to let drop out of my heart's nest this time around. Do me a favor.
Please, remember me.
021910
There's Got To Be More, or You Do The Math
I wonder how history can accommodate the two of us in its heavy lidded box of guile?
I guess it has no choice but to wash out our
little love story in with all the rest of the sheets of
dirty laundry. But, I'm with John on this, that is I think
I disagree with something to do with this predictable human
condition we find ourselves always in and would very much like
to see it change direction in my lifetime, if that's at all possible. I think
you're all a great big bunch of the most beautiful
spawning fish the universe has ever seen, but even all
the great big bunches of beautiful fish in the world
don't seem to add up to much more than a
feeding frenzy sort of chaos going around as usual. There's got to
be something more. Don't you feel it, too? I'm talking about
the deepest deepest feelings you've got. You'll know it when
you get there. I'm not talking about what's out there somewhere in the stars.
I'm talking about what's already inside you down here. Don't get me wrong.There
might be aliens in there. There might not be. We
might be able to see them through a magical pair of glasses. We
might not. We might be the aliens.Did you
ever think of that one? We've made the most terrible gods
out of our multiple fears. Atheism to me seems like a
kind of racism against God. I mean we don't understand
God so let's hate him to death. We don't approve of God's
ways of partying down so let's go bust down his grand old doors and
drag him outside by his anciently blazing hair follicles and string
him up.That'll teach him to respect our power to
kill as we see fit. We don't like God's jokes about us
so let's put an end to his concerts forever with
a big 'ole bomb or two in his hot bubbling tomato soup. Make him cry for once. See
him bleed out...what he probably is? Another One of us. Just
the super lovely part that we all seem to despise so very much most of the time.
But who are these critics because I forget their first and last names. The lines
all seem to get a little blurry the closer we
get to anything resembling a God.Maybe he's a she?
If that's true then he's an old time liar and
that alone should be worth a solid five mile drag behind
a super supped up Chevy truck. I mean come on. I don't
know if there is a god or not. I only
know that the people who want a godless world don't
care if we live or die.Whatever God is seems
to care to forgive us without question. If it's the best
of our collective intentions thrown into the sky like a box of white doves then I'll still
take that over modern cynicism any day. If it's the love of
our children multiplied a billion zillion times, I'll still take
that over hating anyone for being different. If it's a
proposal for any true and lasting friendship built on trust and goodwill
for all, I'll still take that over simple path of greed. You wanted
a war game world and now you've got one. You
wanted a dead God and now it appears she's dying. Look out
your window. Look out your front door. What is it there for? Just
what do you think you are seeing out there? I don't think so and neither do
you. There's got to be more. This life is just
one shoreline, surely. There are winds out there that will blow
us all away someday, too soon perhaps. Do we dare them to come ashore and maybe go for the latest dance craze together? Haven't
we already tried that bit once before and the killers took notice? Let's create another new highway for ourselves, altogether now, one that looks at least promising to the very young among us who are no longer old.
Darryl 07/20/09
A Prisoner Refuses to Eat
They have placed a
gun on every table.
I don't want to
kill you for supper.
They have thrown a
net around every tree.
I don't want a
sky made to order.
They have stolen a
child from every heart.
I do not believe
in this long mirror.
They've become us when
it suits their purpose.
I do not want
to answer that calling.
What I want is
not anything that's made
but looks a lot
like your smiling eyes.
It is in fact
most like your laughing
voice or the yellow
sun blown across daisies.
Darryl 05/15/09
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Author's Note
Lately I've been trying to find words of love because I think maybe it helps to have them around.
Other stories by Darryl Price
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poignant, lovely images.
This is so damn gorgeous.
Love, love this, Darryl.
This is a fine piece, DP. Good form. I like it.
I imagine this one pressed between the pages of a treasured book, maybe with some violets.
What a lovely, touching poem.
An embrace.
Darryl,you are such a romantic. "youre not made for one room only"...swoon.
"I mean I'd be
honored by your mind
and mine holding hands,
so to speak"
I can't think of a more beautiful image for intimacy. There's much to love about this poem, and I do. :)
this is a beautiful poem trilogy. my favorites are the first and third-- but i'm just partial to the short line--
As usual, I find myself blessed.
Wow! *