drowning inside the gut of a whale
(a silver trophy)
#1
drowning inside the gut of a whale
the greatest killer of youth
is not
murder,
suicide,
or disease.
the cool evil blade of success is
slicing the heads off
our brightest flowers.
I’ve seen friends
shrivel and dry-out
like slugs sprinkled with salt;
good, clever people who drop to
a quick death
by falling stars.
they never return.
20-somethings dragged, kicking and
screaming behind
a crazy horse-dream into a busy market square
and put on public display.
20-somethings called into a room and told to wait
until
one day a starry hand
will touch them on the shoulder and lead them to
the sun,
if their not ready, they will be burned
by it’s fatal beauty.
those who don’t make it will be left as carbon statues
standing naked in the street.
people stop and stare and point at these idiotic
figurines on the corner,
they stare long enough they too
start to look like idiots. 20-somethings, the tampons of our time.
20-somethings armed with the weapons of tomorrow.
20-somethings drowning inside the gut of a whale.
20-somethings talking of talking, but never actually talking.
20-somethings sitting in the lotus position inside of a pressure cooker.
20-somethings with not enough time to get to this part of the poem.
20-somethings with the wrong kind of love.
20-somethings blinded by the tear-gas
of ambition,
their ambitions,
their parent’s ambitions,
another’s ambitions,
histories failed ambitions.
the world’s expected ambitions.
there’s nothing wrong with living a life
without ambition,
a seed never dreamt it would become
a flower, a monkey never thought it would become
a man.
trying too hard will cause a quick destruction of the
mind
life is on course with or without us.
all we can do is
whatever it is we are born to do,
not because of
success,
money,
friends,
spotlight,
recognition,
flattery,
not for any
other reason then
we couldn’t live doing anything else.
only then will the gods take note.
we have to get
back on
the side
of the universe.
