No Poems this Post Dude

No love poems, man.

Too macho, Nacho.

Too sacred, Sonny.

You neurons pushing me to create –

Too late.

I’ll drop you like a lead palette,

and play,

knocking back the mighty

IFs…

The threatening THENs…

Sven.

Look sharp you!

“If” you don’t…

“Then” you won’t…

Ah! conditional creativity.

“‘If’

You love me

‘then’

you’ll write me a poem.”

That portends a weighty tome.

Instead, I shall grab my named neurons by their dendrites,

flinging them end-over-end to

borders of electrically-excited boy’s brain.

I’ll climb the dendritic tree when I want,

God willing,

God breathing,

God guiding as Jesus saves,

should I fall,

fall,

fall,

from that tree and half-eaten fruit.

Shepherd, lead me through the death valley of snapping synapses.

Hot wind, blow at my back lighting fiery tongues above my consciousness.

But this is no love poem – you neurons straighten up!

Hear these marching orders:

I will love you

(as the parents tell the children

when asked the “Why?”)

because I said so.

So no,

no love poems, man.

Too mucho, lucho.

Too holy, harry.

 

Hope that amuses you as much as it did me.

I’m exploring this whole creativity thing.

In addition, I’m exploring this whole “Great Commandment” thing and second like unto. Love the Lord… Love others as you love yourself.

How well do I love myself?

Is it humanly possible to break free of “if… then…” type of love?

 

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4 Responses

  1. I loved this. It reminded me of street rhythm. Like Gwendolyn Brooks’ “We Real Cool.”

  2. L.L.,
    Thanks, and I hope you are doing well.
    That is real high praise as that is one of my favorite poems.
    My sister practiced Langston Hughes’ “Mother to Son” over and over for a dramatic reading in High School and somehow that led me to the “We Real Cool” poem.
    But actually, what prompted my poem was someone wanted me to write them one. And I’d been reading John Shore’s “I’m Ok – You’re Not” earlier that day.
    And then I remembered hearing a Laurie Anderson interview where she told of meeting Wim Wenders in an airport and he asked her something like “what if every heartbeat had a name?”
    So what if every neuron had a name?
    And they were all racing around trying to get me to create something when all I wanted to do was quiet my mind and contemplate love and God.
    -Sam

  3. cool, man. I used to read and write a lot of poetry but I think I’ve lost touch with that part of my creativity.

  4. Somehow i missed the point. Probably lost in translation 🙂 Anyway … nice blog to visit.

    cheers, Muddied!!

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