Friday, June 15, 2012

The Most Invaluable Poet of Week 3: On Modern Rage By Jesse S. Mitchell

Poseidon on May 23, 2012 by Jesse S. Mitchell 

I remember the prayers for rain. The arms upheld. The hands held closed.
The electric light swinging, the shadows curled up the walls.
The metallic air as dry as steel,
I was born a barbarous child in a house of dust.
I was born a barbarous child in a house of dust.
So scarred of dying, thought I’d rust.
I was scared of dying and turning to rust.
And the prayers for rain,
And honey dripped a sound.
“Have we not always indulged you, you uncommunicative master?
Have we not been honest?”
My dust choked throat spit blood,
My dust choked mind dreamed of blood.
I wanted to be water but I frozen and I became ice.
I wanted to become stone but I softened and I became mud.
I wanted to become nothing but I split myself all up into familiar shards
And I became everyone
From the dusts of the Earth, Forever and ever.

1 comment:

Sarah Bush said...

a solid supporter to Poets Rally,

keep up the excellence!