Another blog with just a poem.

I've recently found myself submitting some of the poems I am writing to magazines. These poems I am writing are very experimental for me. Thought I'd share one of them.

The Truth is…

The Truth is…

This life is

Crowded with

Freaks

Creeps

Jerks

And

Assholes

They all march

In a parade

Made of charred dreams

Nocturnal fascinations

Examinations

Of exploration

The truth is…

I am one of those freaks.

Not exactly a creep, jerk or asshole

But sure as hell a freak.

I walk around with a neon sign on my forehead

I walk around with a scar with eccentric coloring

I walk with a pen

Jammed between my spine

That sends hypnotic lines

The truth is..

I like being a freak

I like walking with a fist full of pride

And angry eyes full of red

Telling those who don’t believe to

Fuck off

The truth is…

I like owning a monopoly of words

That will bash capitalism

That will take a trip on a river

And float down dreams.

The truth is…

I don’t know where I am going in this world

The parade of

Freaks

Creeps

Jerks

And

Assholes

Is blocking the street I would like to take.

I suppose I’ll just take a detour.

so the prompt today.

"Take a look at your most recent poem. Find a new way to write it. Different point of view different style etc"