It’s Not Just Words!!!
What would you do if you craved The Spoken Word in such a way your kinetic energy sent the man next door your lines first?
What would you do if you saw a poet of character on stage reading from papers unrehearsed?
I can’t stand being considered angry because I recite how the economy haunts my daydreams.
It’s making me very sick to know a frog leaping across the community pond carries more ink… then the weekend of corruptions, uncovered prostitution rings of salacious scandals –
Such as the attorney general a. k. a Client #9
Why not collect your lustful verbiage and pussyfoot it into a chap book (not to be publicize)
Why come to an open mic to express your sexual fantasies and desires about how your manhood is going to grow mysteriously during your three minutes of shame, it’s no different than having to coexist with a pedophile residing a mile away
What would you do if the spoken word replaced rap &heavy metal, conquered the air waves like homegrown terrorist… ignored until mass transit lines sees fatalities worst than Mortal combat 1, 2, or 3,
Worst then the stories you hear of Hiroshima, more poverty stricken then the current recessed economy until…until…we see what happens next??
What happens if New Orleans, the storm of Hurricane Katrina became a bi-polar virus and wiped out Minnesota, Texas and certain regions in Ohio, how much will congress debate the stipends allotted?
What will the scene be considered then…survivors (not Looters), victims needing to be saved, rescued, rescued from the Mary’s, the Uncle Sam’s, & the Sister Jane’s.
And…Making me sick is becoming more of a contagious thang cause’ everywhere I go there’s a poet I want to take in the backroom with a thesaurus dictionary, notebook, karaoke machine, and throw away the key until the paper shoots from under the door and
The Spoken Word piece was belted across the southern bell states, the republican valleys
He would say that children are furnaces and deserves to be serviced daily
He would perform to peak sleeping interest out of the weak
He had commanded an audience without even being seen!!!
Because it’s those words which matter, words that travel like Red, white and blue blood across the desert sands…
Words are inside classrooms of 4th graders in April, during National Poetry Month,
It’s the evening internet blogs military moms have become so familiar with.
Remember words are comforting, an eye opener...
Lyrics have meaning...
So the next time you have only three minutes to shine
Let it rise, let it rise like the Exxon Mobil shell marts
Speak out loud about something cause….
It’s NOT JUST WORDS…
The Spoken Words
The Poet Essence©