IT'S NOT YOUR MOTHER'S POETRY

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It’s not your mother’s poetry

It’s not your father’s poetry

It’s not your Uncle Waldo’s poetry

It’s not your Aunt Ethel’s poetry

It’s not your Ronald Reagan’s poetry

It’s not a verse of the walking dead

rather it’s a verse of life

It’s a poetry striving to live

striving to breathe on it’s own

It’s not your mother’s poetry

barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen

making tuna casserole without the tuna

No, it ain’t your pop’s poetry

Sweating it out in the factory

No sir, it’s out in the woods

diving into a wild stream

the crystal water washing the flesh

It’s a spontaneous fire within

with words dancing out

like flickering flames in unison

It’s ain’t the old guard poetry

It’s ain’t the old school poetry

It ain’t the academy textbook poetry

It’s not your mother’s poetry

burning the meatloaf in the oven

and forgetting to buy toilet paper

pull out the old Pledge and Mr. Clean

It just won’t go away

It ain’t clean cut kid verse

It’s not polite PC poetry

It’s not poetry fucked in the ass

by ludicrous preconceptions

No Ma’am, it’s a living thing poetry

It’s about fucking humanity, man!

Do you understand that?

Can you understand that?

It may be lewd and crude

may not be too perty or sweet

It sure’s hell ain’t granny’s verse

and it ain’t liberal verse

or republican verse

or flipflop on every issue

ala Bill Clinton verser

It’s not Eric Clapton 

sit on your laurels and mail it in

though creatively dead poetry

It’s not full of shit

Patrick Buchanan poetry

It’s not Katherine McKinnon

I seriously need someone 

to cum in my mouth poetry

It’s not Rush Limbaugh

I seriously need someone

to cum in my mouth poetry

It’s not Arsenio Hall

crawl up Eddie Murphy’s asshole

for a high paying gig and

then fuck it up anyway poetry

It’s a trip on a long journey

as passageway to human heart

a key to the city of sinners

a guide through a forest of gold

It’s a quick tour of a mind

dissected by its own isolation

and certainly most definitely

absolutely positively

is not your mother’s poetry

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

written in 1993 and served as title poem for my first self published chapbook put out in 1996.  a little dated but still recalls a far more innocent era.  This was written as a spoken word piece and is meant to be read quickly and loudly.

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allets's picture

definitely word

u missed a few illustrious pendajos though shirley chisholm was still around and jane fonda - demanding equal ass time, Steinheim, Mother Teresa ... and all those historical arses, eleanor of aquitaine, Jean D'Arc, hecuba :D  i'm kinda back.


 

 

.mynoduesp's picture

I like these parts

I like these parts best:

"rather it's a verse of life

it's a poetry striving to live

striving to breath on it's own...

 

It's a spontaneous fire within

with words dancing out

like flickering flames in unison"


I read it out loud and lol'd incessantly... very fluid.

fuche_bu's picture

thank you glad you liked it

thank you glad you liked it

Stephen's picture

Strange

Stephen

fuche_bu's picture

enough

enough