Rebirth Control

My inspiration for my 7th of 30 poems comes from a Facebook status on the 16th of December posted by a talented musician friend of mine known as “Silverchet”. Follow @silverchet on twitter.

“I Dont Wanna Hear How 2010 is Gonna Be “Your Year”, Or How 2010 is A “Time for Change”, I Been Hearing That Year After Year, So Quit Procrastonating and do what you Gotta do…….I speak to myself as I do you all”

16 December at 18:19 ·

 

Rebirth control

At the end of every year we engage in a ritual of giving and receiving presents, to some we give our presence, to others we scribe from a sample of our essence.

Taking time to recharge, a new year will it bring a new start, a new chapter new lessons?

Will we have counted our blessings, paused for reflection, spotted our contradictions and created new traditions?

Halted attrition of self ignition

Or will we simply continue unpause the game from the X box

Continue where we left off

Revive the consternation instead of tidying our desktop

Let our system hang and our heads drop

Beheaded because we’re big headed

Talk about change yet we’re dreadlocked

Locked in dread because change means the whole head

We’ve got to brain wash and condition in order to sew fruition

We talk about chasing the dream not the competition

Every new year is a new you year until problems hit then, those resolutions…

Those Resolutions

Those revelations that made you make statements

How you knew they were pain staking but resolute enough

Yeah … those solutions, improvements…those resolutions that had so you so focussed you had me thinking change was embedded in your follicles

Only for 6 months later change is soluble like aspirin

Did you think change was a sprint?

Did you think  change would be a Usain of the bolt type change

Sweep you off your feet and leave you with no time to breathe type change

Where is the new you I say?

It takes pain to move pain because something has to die before you come back to life

Pre mortem dissection, microscopic detection for signs of regression

Grown folk need a soul session not a 1 month campaign at every month 11

Yelling to the world from midnight of the 31st I begin my resurrection

Obama’s slogan for election

I am who I choose to be and when I start’s change in me it is for my refreshment

It’s a present to my presence, my essence, my gain

Drink to a year of pain to locate the step up, celebrate finding it, then put up, shut up or full on step up.

Wake up, Get Up for the shooting range, take your best shot at life and work towards your main aim

For when your breath is short and your soul’s screaming to get away

You better be elected, there’ll be no more campaign, no more rebirth

Your life’s been your day to prove your worth

But how will you handle your 31st?

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Random Poetics

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s