Reading all our I’s and Me’s
in seemingly self-absorbed, poetry
of en vogue, all-forgiving victimology
posing, in worded form
of frenetically frantic
impassioned, confessions
of voiceless
digital binary laments of life
but
this is no pity party, concert
of youthful conceit
or grey haired, embittered status
this, that pure passion
as our thinking’s, inking
teardrop ocean storms
trying to find rhyme or reason
to hapless modernity’s
endless waves of mind-fck, tsunamis!
This, is instead
a dialectical, humdrum
of wisdom seeking traditions
that duality of unspoken wishes
in all-things, existence
and self-expression’s, rainless
rainbows
as hope’s, lighthouse beacons
outing, ourselves
to a blank canvas and a judgemental
cursor, blinking expectant
as we try, time n again
confessing
our failings and successes
all in an effort
to reach a semblance
of wholeness
birthed in-to, bankrupt
circumstances
so all we know, is woe is me
victim status
as life’s, invisible shackles
consuming any n all, momentary
escapes
thumbs, endlessly flicking up
eyes, darting wildly in search for tiktok
distractions, ignoring
that true tick-tock of our finite, futures
hiding
from our rudder-Less, existence
we navigate
by dipping our fingers, in qwerty shark waters
and rowing, lifeline dinghies of Poesy
with our outstretched creativity’s, tippy-toes
because
no one, bothered
to teach us
which bruises and scars
to value and discard
so we’re making it up
as we stumble
and climb up, like
batman movie quotes
as our only avenues
to those practicalities of life
flowing, seamlessly
upon a page
of poetic cyclicality’s
bro-
keness
this, that shared horizon
of warped normality
and crawling discomfort
in our very own skin.
kids, teaching themselves to fight
on other people’s knuckles
while society teaches youtube
makeup shortcuts
to five-year-old, vassals
of failed parenthood’s, parentheses
afterthought, thoughts of accountability
‘We’, now deemed
an archaic wilting ideology
so you and us
need to seek, a new
kNew } trajectory
in-fact, let’s try a chain-Less, togetherness
without titles, as limitations
a
free
space
of
sincerity
where adding, U to I
stirs-up a cocktail devoid of toxic inferences
let’s design our own, metric-based empathetic
equality
expectation-Less, spelling out that U & I
of regained: UnIty
drink, happily
let it flow smooth
like Tennessee Whiskey
or full bodied
like Dublin’s Guinness
or better yet, sip
that alcohol free
in Nature’s abundant, gaiety
either way, living
while leaving no room
for life’s fearmongering, rigidity
we move to survive
one line, at a Time!
who needs abstractness
or ground-breaking inspiration’s, contextually
in wording their own, depictions of reality
let’s just ink, like we speak
and think, as free as we blink
make all those artistry’s taboos
our b’tch
and base our conversations
upon bravery’s, broad shoulders
anchored, to that Phoenix - self
we feel residing/awaiting
in our minds and tattered hearts
proclaim, Proudly
that these grouping of alphabets
weaved, from dark crimson pools
of invisible, crimson spills
and weighty backpacks full of hurt
state our volition, loud
for this is our ‘age of anxiety’s’
generational
‘Fck U, and your formless rules
grammatical correct, hollow bul’sht
this, is our I & Me: self-emancipation
Poetry!
and with each syllable we pen, its setting us
FREE!
© L. B. Mek
January 2022
-
Author:
L. B. Mek (
Offline) - Published: August 19th, 2022 02:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 62
- User favorite of this poem: Fay Slimm..
Offline)
Comments8
This outpouring of need for writers to reassess has to be the best of your best dear Mek - your talented word-play denounces the I-age and pleads like no other - - into my list of favourites goes this grand jewel for poets like me to read and digest.
wow! dear Fay
whenever you connect with my scribbles
and word such encouraging comments
I feel like Poesy's wings are unfurling
all around me..
as-ever
you humble me with your kindness
and I thank you! wholeheartedly
One of the ways to rid poetry of the “I’s” and “me’s” is to write in 2nd or 3rd person, a projection and sublimation of sorts. Then the metaphors begin to come alive. Or so it would seem. 😊
maybe but I like the power and wilful volition
in the I, speaking directly to the reader
no room for backtracks and interpretations
mishaps
its better when we mean what we say
we have prose for all the posing stuff, but Poesy
should be a place of sincerity..
(at least for me, but each to their own)
but all Art is wild and beautifully diverse
can never be tamed
merely caged for a while...
Oh perish the thought, dear Mek, that the use of metaphors and variations of speaking voice be a sign of insincerity. Even the insincere could be seen as sincerely insincere if they do not feign to their readers as with bowing and scraping only to have behind them ulterior motives. Feigned insincerity is as loathsome as feigned sincerity. I suppose this is part and parcel of the mad wildness of art and its transcendence over the banal and mundane.
2 more comments
You voice well the concerns of any of us thoughtful writers who have seen many moons. Sometimes I challenge myself not to write so obviously about me but i'm sure you, together with any who have read my outpourings on mps, can see it as just a ruse. It's stil decrepit old dusk waffling and whingeing away about life.
Long and short of it for me is all about what motivates me to write on any occasion. Todays missive was a spurof the moment job inspired by a quick browse through todays MPS titles. Sudden inspiration (which has been waining of late) and i went with the flow.
Enjoyed the journey reading your post today and you certainly covered some ground.
lol sorry, it was a little long
thank you for such a considered
and guiding response, dear Poet
I read and learn
Why so humble LBM, you're a top notch poet and MPS is lucky to have your posts. We are all learning. Don't apaologise for length. If it needs to be said, then let it be said. For your reader it's a pleasure to be led on a colourful journey which encompasses many 'sideshows' each in their own right deserving of comment.
ummm, this is absolutely fantastic. I mean for starters, your vocabulary is so beautiful, that's a really nice word bank. Plus, the raw emotion in this poem is bursting at the seams. TBH c in terms of experience your work is much older and more mature. I love it
how very kind, thank you!
I read, learn and am inspired
by talented Poets like yourself
and tbh i agree with it, this poem is definitely in my top 3 favorites
Awesome! thank you again
but yeah
I just felt like people think
because they write in a certain way
it demeans the worth of their work
but I feel its just
a stylistic component
than a quality, one
so these words were just a way
of saying, so what
maybe some of us do write
a little too sylvia plath, confessional
who cares
as long as it works for us!
lol
(or something like that)
good write LB,enjoy your day
thank you! dear Poet
you have a peaceful week as well
stay safe
L.B. This was quite a bit to be said. Poetry and sincerity should go hand in hand, if not it shows. The title is the indicator. As per usual well crafted and passionately emotive.
'passionately emotive'
I might have to borrow this, dear Poet
and thank you! so glad you connected with the overall message
'Poetry and sincerity should go hand in hand'
Amen!
(in my humble opinion)
consuming any n all, momentary
escapes
thumbs, endlessly flicking up
eyes, darting wildly in search for tiktok
distractions, ignoring
that true tick-tock of our finite, futures
I really enjoyed this part especially!
Time is tic -tocking away.
yeah, Time creeps-up on us and dissipates
in betwixt, morning's first sipped tea or coffee
and our evening's wine or whiskey...
lol
thank you! so glad you enjoyed the read
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.