04-15-2013, 05:38 PM
It's 3 AM, which means another day, another poem. 
I'd like to post another one of my submissions, something I'm turning in for a class today. Whatever feedback you have is appreciated.
Anyway, an Ode to People:
I know there are possibilities
beneath the trees
and under the brimming seas
that satellites haven’t seen-
thoughts never processed and assimilated,
ideas never registered-
not because my brain dreams them –
mine is weary and growing lackluster,
because I must believe humanity
is not near stagnating,
decomposing
with the onset of nuclear war
or the coming of some dreary tide;
because at every time,
we sat where we do now, with a thought
on our tongues,
lacking language to effect itself;
because a notion of beauty and progress as transitory,
disposable in a larger scheme,
is well and good in a hypothetical setting,
but not in my world, not for the wonderful people
who make this land shine everywhere-
in our extolling and in our hubris,
in the ravages and banishments
which tear our cores asunder.
I’ll choose to believe against the statistics –
single, married, male, female, black, white –
poor, wealthy, son, daughter, damned –
which daily limit us,
because I won’t be a cynic on my porch,
elderly with frail and rotting bones,
rocking, condemning the passing youth
with green faces like buried saplings;
because we’ve transcended the skies
and lifted the lid of Heaven,
where God itself sat as a general pacing,
gone to war with the certainties
we daily propagate,
the forces which move particles
and ruin nations-
accomplishments, some terrifying,
grisly, macabre, but some flourishing,
synthetically picturesque,
like sculptures of long-dead guardians-
who thought and educated the masses,
who fought and remained steadfast against battalions,
who sought and motivated withering husks.
I deny that we will decline and expire,
that we are predictable,
our fates inescapable,
because I am human,
and I don’t believe
we should die forgotten,
consumed by the oblivions
which elicited our existences
among the constellations.
I'd like to post another one of my submissions, something I'm turning in for a class today. Whatever feedback you have is appreciated.
Anyway, an Ode to People:
I know there are possibilities
beneath the trees
and under the brimming seas
that satellites haven’t seen-
thoughts never processed and assimilated,
ideas never registered-
not because my brain dreams them –
mine is weary and growing lackluster,
because I must believe humanity
is not near stagnating,
decomposing
with the onset of nuclear war
or the coming of some dreary tide;
because at every time,
we sat where we do now, with a thought
on our tongues,
lacking language to effect itself;
because a notion of beauty and progress as transitory,
disposable in a larger scheme,
is well and good in a hypothetical setting,
but not in my world, not for the wonderful people
who make this land shine everywhere-
in our extolling and in our hubris,
in the ravages and banishments
which tear our cores asunder.
I’ll choose to believe against the statistics –
single, married, male, female, black, white –
poor, wealthy, son, daughter, damned –
which daily limit us,
because I won’t be a cynic on my porch,
elderly with frail and rotting bones,
rocking, condemning the passing youth
with green faces like buried saplings;
because we’ve transcended the skies
and lifted the lid of Heaven,
where God itself sat as a general pacing,
gone to war with the certainties
we daily propagate,
the forces which move particles
and ruin nations-
accomplishments, some terrifying,
grisly, macabre, but some flourishing,
synthetically picturesque,
like sculptures of long-dead guardians-
who thought and educated the masses,
who fought and remained steadfast against battalions,
who sought and motivated withering husks.
I deny that we will decline and expire,
that we are predictable,
our fates inescapable,
because I am human,
and I don’t believe
we should die forgotten,
consumed by the oblivions
which elicited our existences
among the constellations.