from Bullets & Butterflies: queer spoken word poetry
I want you to continue writing
because I will not always be around
With lips that will never touch mine 
read your poems out loud 
so that the words are left engraved on the wall 
make me feel your voice rush through me 
like a breeze from Oyá
I want to hear about Puerto Rico 
about sisters with names like La Bruja 
about educating youth about AIDS 
I want to hear about life in the Boogie Down Bronx 
surviving on the Down Low 
don't leave out stories about men 
you have loved and still love
I want you to write poems that you will never read 
press hard on the paper so that the ink runs deep 
hold the pen tight so that you control the details 
prove to me that I inspire you 
reveal yourself between the lines 
hear my praise with each flicker of the candle 
Write a poem for me
Do not choose a fresh page from a brand new journal 
use paper that has been crumbled and tossed 
thrown out by a spineless father only to be recycled 
Save a tree for future poets to write under
Rewrite me into someone more attractive 
stronger than life has made me 
make me tough and sexy, aggressive like a tiger 
stain the pages with cum, lube, the arousal you find 
at the sight of naked boys, draw me sketches 
bring the words to life with images 
make me a man with this poem
Read it in front of the audience 
with hidden messages just for me 
be real and tell me why 
I am only worth a haiku
Your epics are meant for others 
I already know, 
use red ink to match the blood from these wounds 
with brutal honesty 
let me die with your last sentence
Then resurrect me with rhyme 
read from your gut 
let me hear the wisdom of mi abuelo in your voice 
let me find my father in you 
remind me of all the men that left me broken promises
In your eyes I want to see a poem 
when you bring me to tears 
with painful memories 
buried beneath your thick skin
Between teeth gapped like divas, 
I want to hear quotes from books 
I never read
Make me believe you want to be a poet
Make my heart break, 
tell me why you could never love me 
with just a few words 
leave me lost and insecure 
feel the admiration of others 
bask in their desire 
forget that I am there
Pound your fists in the air with passion 
go off about politics, poverty, machismo and hate 
scream poems that don't give a fuck 
about traditions, slamming or scores 
save your whispers for those who make love to you
Write a poem for me that makes me want to puff a joint
A poem that loses control 
unafraid to be vulnerable 
for once just make me believe 
it is all worth letting go 
when the smoke clears 
I will understand 
the reason 
I am just another face 
in the crowd
I want you to continue writing 
because I will not always be around
by Emanuel Xavier
This poem is about making things matter. About making poetry inspirational. After reading about Emanuel Xavier's biography, his poem is more impactful and touching. It is written in free verse and meant to be spoken-word. Not intentionally loaded with poetic devices and imagery, instead, A Simple Poem focuses on manipulating words to invoke emotions instead. The imagery that Xavier is real and true and realistic and that makes the poem easy to relate to. This poem makes me want to be an inspiration. New Year's is the month of resolutions. Every year, one item on my list includes personal achievements and being a role model and an inspiration.
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Wow. I loved that. Great choice of poem. I like how you used it, even though some of the subject matter is a bit out there; it has a strong impact and it's really relevant to us. I like how it's essentially about unrequited love, but there's no self pity involved at all and it's not cliched. I like how your analysis went with the poem too: simple. Good job!
ReplyDeleteWow. Respect, kudos, and props.
ReplyDeleteI don't quite agree with Bridget, though, about the poem not being about self-pity at all. It is undoubtedly about unrequited love, and in those situations the rejected often make the situation out to be much more than the rejector does. The author seems to understand this, but at the same time, he almost begs to be remembered, to live on through the writers' words. Quite a big request. Although it may hurt him, he wants to matter enough that he live somewhere in the subject's life. So he does kind of feel sorry for himself, because he needs this to feel better about himself; to convince himself that he did matter.
THAT ASIDE, I totally agree that this is realistic and easy to relate to. And I love that you picked something daring