Explicit Poetry V

Let me share with you what I see- May I?

Dissensions and rivalries- No one can agree

Why are we, fighting we?- Rejecting The One we need

I'm writing of scenes I never wanted to see

I watch the world sell their souls-

Reaping sorrow only to sow in weeping

Desperate to add time to their watch

Dying to live, trading life for death- Only to die trying

Finding only indigence on the walkway to material wealth

Following evidence left behind by the flesh

Can I continue?

I can't- Follow suit and sell myself only to cross the very line I signed on

I've got a lot more on my mind than the dollars in the lottery

I can't- Allow myself to contain a mind tamed by misfortune

I'm a poet, I don't make pottery-

Writing about The One- But hidden, discreet in the poetry

But if it's hidden, it isn't explicit-

This is what resides within the lines of linen I've woven into my mask for comfort

Held back because this culture is quick to hit cancel

Can I call it a ransom?- How can I save my identity?

From falling on the ball field, in the bedroom, or to the billfold

Is it any more than what's written in the spaces I left for correction?

Within the lines of Explicit Poetry I toe the line between social commentary and self reflection

On one side is self-righteous and the other is chasing perfection

Such a thin line that divides two sides of the same coin

Both in disguise-

Pride cannot fill security's place

But still it wears the mask of bravery

Blurring the line between what I look at and what I see

Shading the difference between insecurity and humility

And that might be all I say without any diffidence

Standing surrounded by passivist standing around passing fits

There's no standing it so it's not in my plan to fit in

I just can't have my hand in it-

I'd rather have bad luck than bad company

Just reason one of many

But who am I to judge?

The only man I can question is he who stands in the mirror

Better than no one, but worse than none

There's was none but one man who lived to perfection

But rejected by the world then, and now-

And if that's the case I have to ask why I chase such perfection

I have to ask- Would I leave the ninety-nine to seek after the one?

Left rejected by that same one?

And the same sum, that rejected the same One I mentioned in lines three and sixteen

If I were to exactly quote the fourth of the four gospel writers-

I'd still be writing- But where would I be?

If I lost my means to reach, what would I seek?

The answer isn't here, but with every line I grow closer

Can I continue? At another time- With this, Explicit Poetry