Note: This poem was written sort of in response to some stuff that's been happening at work (not my internship, the other work). I wrote it yesterday and edited once so it's a little loopy and incomplete. Anyway, enjoy. I felt much better after I wrote it. As always, fuck blogger formatting. It just doesn't want to recognize that indentations are a thing.)
Assertive
I lack confidence, or so I’ve been told
but consider this.
I have collaborative, poetic absolute truth coursing in and out of my skin and
there is a commiseration of complex algorithms for the perfect being
sloshing around in my skull and dripping from my nose.
A lattice of artificially constructed spirituality is shattered when I breathe
the unobtrusive and yet earth pummeling catharsis that comes
from saying the word “fuck” on repeat until your problems are too scared to emerge.
Someone hung a length of rusty wire in my brain when I was young
and I spun it into gold! and then-
(seeing how useless gold was)
turned that into a belt of bullet casings to attack to dynastic bullies who
claim to come from God but only come
from the Wall-Mart Super Savers Super Manager Seminars!
(inspiration kitten poster-based law is no substitute for mutual respect)
Elaborate enumerations of clandestine sectarian movements find within me
a flag, a hope, a new day and an earpiece!
Vote for Morgana! Queen of the night!
Cast ballots for the vaginal goddess of fertility, Ceres!
Collect signatures to recall the overtly destructive penile pretender
(he knows who he is, but we’ll call him Condescension
for no one can rise to meet his gaze)
Confidence is irrelevant when you set the bakery of clichés on fire!
Self-worth seems silly connected to the criss-crossing wires of harm and help
that are needed to be free from the tyranny of ownness!
In all of this have you ever once considered
that just perhaps
you do not know me at all?
I'm sorry I didn't comment earlier. I did read it, but I needed some time to cull my thoughts on it. So here we go.. I really like it. I like how angry and.. assertive it is. (As you know, I'm no stranger to angry poetry..) I like how it feels like a continual barrage of ideas, but stung together in such a way that it sounds like it's all said in one breath.
ReplyDeleteI like the second stanza quite a bit. It has such cool visualizations of your creative power.
I also like the fourth stanza's narrative of how you turned the rusty wire to gold and then to bullet casings. The phrase 'dynastic bullies' stood out to me in a fabulous way. And the Walmart manager seminars was pretty funny. I didn't really understand the parenthetical phrase that follows it, though.
The fifth stanza is also very interesting. I'm intrigued by the mentions of Morgana and Ceres.
I love the phrase 'set the bakery of cliches on fire!' Just love.
And a powerful finish.
_
I don't know why these people has this particular impression of you, but they do not know you and have quite obviously not taken the time to get to know you.
You are not timid. You are not a pushover. And in the zombie apocalypse I know you will outlive them.
Dearest Cerasi,
ReplyDeleteI've been putting off commenting, because I'm just such shit with poetry. My ability to constructively critique has also gone out the window, and I'm left in a massive pile of jiggling wiggling goo of what I used to be in regards to literature and writing.
However, after this week of no teaching, and endless "Ada, do this," and "Ada, do that" and "Ada, we're in a bit of an emergency. You have to plan all of this out by tomorrow morning" makes one a bit overworked, which leads to one being very ill, which leads, yet again, to the same one regretting all decision to stay at said employment. What I'm trying to say is--long story short--is that I could relate to this poem quite well.
It goes and starts off angry, sure, but it becomes more and more powerful as you bring in more and more powerful beings into the piece. It reminds me of Allen Ginsberg, whose work I should now be rereading to channel my own inner anger, but considering you've done such a good job channeling him, perhaps I won't need to reread it at all.
Sorry for the jumping around critique---I'm really ill, and I'm at work, and everything is so dizzy.
But your poem makes everything better for some reason.
And man, if they only knew how NOT a pushover you are. You're the only one who has stood up to anyone about anything, and you're a confident, amazing person, and no one can tell you otherwise!
You want to have sex with blogger formatting? Hopefully it is consensual, but seriously here is my critique:
ReplyDeleteThe biggest flaw in the piece is that it is wordy. Big, fancy book learning words are great, but if there are too many then they can hurt the flow. Consider the sentence: "Elaborate enumerations of clandestine sectarian movements find within me." The alliteration is fine, but the amount of long words elongate the line and feels heavy.
Since the other young ladies have touched more deeply into the piece, I must posit the question: are you referencing morgana le fay? If so, sweet.