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SNIFF IT OUT

SNIFF IT OUT

A Poem by Hawksmoor

 http://www.evoca.com/myrecordings/recBlogForIFrame.jsp?rid=184902"              

 
I chose to SKIP the subsequent formal Ed
The solutions in my head world-fed, all green and red, with enough time forsaking being led
I would strike it rich
Just like Jed…
 
Clampette
Damp, wet
That’s what my findings turned out to be
I wasn’t free
To be me
To sip poisonous sap from the roots of the Tree of Life unknowingly
That was the point of me
The Hippie
No one born capable of jipping me
For I gave it all away for free, you see
 
I gave of me
Scott-free
“You want it, I got it.”
“You need me, here I am.”
“F**k me over once, shame on me; f**k me over twice, shame on me.”
Innocence?
No; I had my own kind of dark luminescence
There was a presence beneath
Within the sheath of my skin
Still, I gave of my own free will
And came to know the bitter swill that is the pill of realization
 
Rise to my true station?
What is this station?
Is it above any particular nation?
Defended by capability in the vein of Perry Mason?
Before a judge without Its face on?
You see, with its face on
It would SEE me
The seed in me that wars against me
Eternally
Vigilantly
Easily
With measly intentions that I can’t help but support
I never could win, against me
 
Victim?
No; I’m not that arrogant
There are tyrants and sycophants that proclaim the truth of their marching rants
Like ants down the pants on a trail of sticky-sweet Sustenance
They’re here for the world to behold
Except, there they are
Within
Kicking us inside-out psychically
Forcing our mouths closed against the truth of self
A hopeless battle that sets the bones of my skull a-rattle
A thing of mind in a gulag of stubborn bone
 
So, every day
I confound myself into doing it all again
Trust
Lust
Love
Hug
See
Be Free
Try not to be shy of the stares and smiles within a sty-world beneath an uncaring sky, fallen to the preening of intelligent primates gone awry
Why?
 
Alright
Each day, I admit I strike it wealthy
After all, I’m healthy, mentally stealthy
The levees of me hold fast to the moorings of ID
That must mean something
Perfect?
What a word
A thing for the bird that picks at the grand ambition of humanity
A rotting carcass of mixed truth and lies
Look to the skies
And be ye wise
 
THIS IS YOUR SITUATION AS WELL
Smile
Because now you know
Now you see
That we are all One in our self-fulfilling prophecy.

© 2009 Hawksmoor


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Reviews

Jeeezus dude.

I had to read it twice in rapid succession. I didn't know you could get this raw and this honest bro. I love the whimsical stance you took on this deep introspection of what has been in the time you've been given use of reason. As it should be! Many poets; (myself included) take themselves entirely to seriously and make everything dark and what-not. Life, or at least many facets of it are indeed dark and depressive but that doesn't mean that does not take away one's right to laugh in its face.

I love the subject matter you explored, and the delivery was on-point (evoca). You need to teach me a thing or two in terms of delivery man. You talk about some of my pieces making you jealous? Well this is it for me right here....I'm somewhat jealous right now bro. No bullshit.

You've finally found yourself as a poet. This is it right here bro. You are one prolific mothaf***a. I'll probrably be reading it again sometime soon. I have it bookmarked. Anyway, congratulations.

Posted 12 Years Ago


Dude, I'm smelling it. Throw it down like that.

Posted 12 Years Ago



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Added on March 29, 2009
Last Updated on March 29, 2009

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Hawksmoor
Hawksmoor

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BRILLIANT! Hawksmoor...From The Bleed. more..

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