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
"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