A CALL TO ARMS
This is a call to arms!
I need all writers to pick up a pen,
and I’m not talking about the high-end best selling authors,
oh no— I’m calling out to the daughter that journals
every night about her father’s abusive might.
I’m calling out to the street poet with a passion for rhymes,
but doesn’t have a dime for food of any kind.
I’m calling out to the song writer that strives
to keep the lyrics in time—
only to perform in a bar that looks like a dive.
I’m calling out to the underground aristocrats,
and the flowing jazz cool cats.
I’m calling out to the contemporary philosophers,
and every single Dr. Seuss admirer.
I’m calling out to the telemarketer,
the Evangelic preacher,
the high school English teacher,
and the sophisticated lawyer.
I’m calling out to the mother with a to do list,
and the dreamer with a movie script.
I’m calling out to the stand up comedians,
the biblical heathens,
and the man speaking to high schools
teaching that drinking and driving isn't cool.
I’m calling out to the college students
with weekly assignments.
To those who compose e-mails and have them sent.
To any readers of John Smith’s interpretation
of the Old Testament—
he warned his patrons about God's wrath
and the need to repent.
I’m calling out to anyone whose created a comic book foe,
recited Edgar Allen Poe, memorized Jay-Z’s Black Album,
or was entranced by the Fireside Poets,
and Henry David Thoreau.
I’m calling out to anyone who has typed a blog,
doodled a thought,
or heard “I Have a Dream”
and realized the resistance King fought.
I’m calling out to anyone who has ever placed the tip of a pen
to white parchment.
This is a call to arms!
Pick up the nearest pen, pencil, or mixture of both utensils.
The modern day writers are going to insight a revolution--
not with the pull of a trigger, but the click of a pen.
Writers can change the way we are living!
I need Haiku minutemen to hurl 5-7-5 syllables
like beads at Mardi Gras.
The sergeant majors of metaphors to compare
an umbrella and a rabid animal.
The secret service of similes and sentences
to sentence the ignorant to an education.
We can start a literary invasion—
write proclamations that will help our nation.
I would trade ten-thousand votes
for just one poet,
because they may write in silence,
but their word’s will sing louder than freedom will ever ring!
This is a call to arms!
Pick up a pen and jot your thoughts down!
This is a call to arms!


Apr 19, 2010

My World

My world? My world is getting scary.
My chest, is getting hairy!
It’s curious this process known as development
The conscious concentration on one’s mental maturation.

It’s learning to think before you speak
But never forgetting your instinct.
I find my freer moments are conversations
I have internally, in a room locked invisibly
Where I hash out the plot lines of myself
With the little voice inside me
Who I no longer choose to fear
But am trying to trust and learning about love.
We are uniting, indivisible Aaron.
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