Dreams and Clock Work


Dreams and Clock Work By Devinn LoVette

Consciously defying my sub-cognitive count down to catatonic, back-breaking autonomy

Sweat silently streaking to the hardwood floor

Where muscles rip to rebuild in the clash, smack, bang of ironic symphony

And I am dauntlessly doubtful that this journey will not;

Tear and pry

Render, rupture, mutilate and tatter any part of me that screams inadequacy

And thus be torn asunder into the;

Lacerated and lessoned  

Battle tested and bruise

Victor through self-sacrifical surrender to a goal and a dream

I am Divergent

And fearlessly following a path most would claim is an incalcuable insanity

You see, there's a certain ambiguity in poetry

Apparently the first poets supposed that's how it was supposed to be

But supposedly, people don't like the old school rhetoric those broke fools were flowin'

See it's funny

I didn't know my poetic expression was subject to your obviously misguided misconceptions

About what you think is poetry

I put my heart in these words and there's a soul in this page

But you fail to see the metonymy in this vocabulary

I think people are scared of the words iterated by a pen

Of the dreams screamed in ink

That speaks with the lone voice of cognitive prideful dissension

That says;

"I will never become one of your mindless assimilationists"

"I will never apolozie for words poetically spoken"

Yet it's so tragically ironic

We live in a world of intolerant tolerance

Where you can think how you want to think

Because that's how you were told to think

Where people are pro choice, "Everyone should have a voice!" 

Execept when it comes to;

Guns, drugs, education, goverment, taxes, preaching your religion or not wanting immigration

And if you disagree, then you're filled with;

Bigoted, ignorant, close-minded, intolerant hatred!

Do you see the deceptive quandary?

People ask for our thoughts, beliefs and opinions

Yet when finally get the nerve to put our shoes to our teeth

They hang us by the very words they just asked us to speak

I think they've got it bass ackwards

With doctrine, we hash black words

But people hack first

Attacking my beliefs as if having Jesus would make them off worse


The truth is, the Gospel is offensive

But what is it about love that causes self-sacrificial death to redemption

That puts you on the aggressive defensive?

Really though,  let's be honest

I've spent more time telling people what isn't christianity than what it is

And when I try to electrify you with what makes this heart beat, pen write, tongue speak

You heartlessly scorn for what you understand hardly

And we're the hateful ones?

No wonder, you demand we have a heart of empathy

But your hypocrisy is a result of one that is dead and unresponsive


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