Jomul7

When words are so visual and I happen to be channeling someone or something else, I can’t find any image to accompany my poems. This was written in a trance like moment.

Piece of meat

I’m just another piece of meat, you know?
I’m just another piece of meat who moves inside a metallic beast to get to where I want,
On my way to downtown Portland, the max, this metallic anaconda with a thousand eyes on all sides
Carried to various destinations my fellow pieces of meat,
The etiquette during transportation was to refrain from any demonstration of sudden joy or panic
Seem lifeless for too long
And you will not know when
This life ends and the next one starts

But more than anything I miss dancing
I miss putting these hips to use
Moving them right to left
To shake myself loose of this and that
To see my old self crawl out to its death
As I put on new skin for the whole world to see
After all, I’m a piece of meat
but a lean and tender one
You can’t just reject me before
you have had a taste
And you find out how sweet
I am on a first impression
and how sour I turn when your gaze
Changes its focus

I also miss climbing buildings
My nails sinking on their metallic skin
As I make my way to the top
Pour ceuillir le fruit defendu
While helicopters, these silver bees scout the sky looking for their queen bee
I can’t show them the way
When I’m looking for my own path
In this concrete jungle where
Hearts break and minds ache
All I know is to get my sorry butt
Moving and knocking and seeking
For that next big wave that’s coming.

Source: jomul7.com

Posted at 4:36am and tagged with: spilled ink, poetry, poem, changeling, urban, Portland, meat, life, meaning, dancing,.