And to think that I saw it on seventeenth street
And to think that I saw it on seventeenth street
There’s a guy all bloodied from his head to his feet
Walking cross Market, not quite so discreet
Is that a crown of thorns in his hair?
Re-enactment of liberation and despair
Ah. I guess that means Easter is near
Cause there goes the Christian crucifixion fleet in a heat
And to think that I saw it on seventeenth street
I may not know how to prevent someone from taking their own life, but if you know someone who might struggle with it. Hold on to them. Let them know that they are not alone, and maybe that love will break the barrier before it’s too late.
Please. If you have any thoughts on the subject, don’t be afraid to share or leave a comment. Thanks.
I came
in the blinding sweep
of ecstatic pain,
I go
in the throbbing pulse
of aching space–
in the aeons between
I piled upon you
pain on pain
ache on ache
and yet as I go
I shall know
that you will grieve
and want me back…
–Frank Horne
Poetry in Motion series presents another clip from the movie
My soul has grown deep like the rivers
–Langston Hughes
(excerpt from the Negro Speaks of Rivers)
This clip from the award-winning feature length documentary, WE ARE POETS, presents a moving and poignant story of youth, art and freedom of expression. It intimately follows six young poets from youth literary group, Leeds Young Authors, as they are chosen to represent the UK…
i kneel to God
he knows i pray
because im going to
lay a man out
today
i can’t help it he was in my way
to greatness
Am I the sinner or the preacher, student or the teacher, the lover or indifferent?
I thought, dug deep into the trenches, the cold globes of earth shifting and settling into my clothes. Wait. I’m starting to see a shape in the distance about three clicks away. I cant make them out just yet, but through the mists, ugly and black, they angrily jab at this writer’s sleep and disturb my mind’s peace. Oh, so you thought you were the thought that could just creep up on me, failing to see that my understanding runs deep, catacombed under the bone, so to speak, since violators were liable to get shot. Someone from far off in the trenches orders me to lay off my defenses.
But sir, the enemy is advancing, this is no time for peace!
We pushed then. Through the fields of provoked war to apprehend the targets caught dead in our sights like Osama’s head as it turned to meet the wrong end of an U.S barrel. Couldn’t tell you why I rushed in, I guess for the first time I just wasn’t thinking but the bullets kept flying. One doubled over as the left flank moved around the perimeter. Surrounded and boxed-in, one feel to his knees and began to plead. The last one standing had courage and came towards our heavily armed borders, hands high in surrender as I tapped the trigger ready to fire.
Don’t shoot, she says, I am love, offering my dignity and pride, and my life.
She closed her eyes then and shouted,
Now choose.
Feelin’ nostalgic, and stumbled across one of my favorite cartoons/sitcoms featuring a series of poetry skits . 90’s babies will love this one
The Poetry Corner 