Dead Poets Society. (A) 

Alarmed. Aghast. This is my past. My  future, my vision, my last intuition. My face contorted, I seek the comforted.  The company of those whose hearts are constantly broken. 

Befuddled . Beware. You’re in for a scare.  A mighty blow to the ego that you bear.  Behold an age for the young who stage a fight to be old, bolder than their folks. 

Caves. Castles.  We all seek a home,  a fortress for our bones. A roof for the mumbles,  the gossip and the wrangles. But some find it under the stars,  homeless lads who find comfort in bars.  

Deranged. Downtrodden. We kill the messengers forgotten. The artists and the unspoken,  who speak out for the broken.  The poet, the singer. The painter who sees us, for who we are both inside and out. Why do we take them for granted. Cut it out. 

Elevate. Enigma.  There’s a secret to every stigma.  Judging books by their covers,  and taking shots at the unempowered.  Setting fires that we cannot put out,love thy neighbour is what I shout. 

Flowers fold under the heat of noon,they come undone.  All that blooms under the moon becomes gloom under the sun. 

God.  Grace.  Look at my face.  It sheds skin under his wing as I take flight into the night.  I face the darkness with a purpose as he smiles and beckons for me to another surface. 

Heaven is the surface that I meant of earlier, does it look like Narnia? Or if for some heaven does not exist, would you rather risk to believe that it does so that if it’s true you won’t be the crying fool in Hell’s darkest room? 

Insignia.  I sign at the end of each poem. Remember me with these,  for I do not speak much,for I am solemn. To my kids and grandkids,  I hope you do search for my memories in these on-line melodies. 

Justice.  Just- ice.  Does it exist for those who seek it. It’s eyes, do they lie? Do they only provide for those who have enough money to buy. 

Kings and Queens of promise don’t you hold out, don’t sell out. Anything is possible if you’ve got enough nerve.  Stay ahead of the curve, be full of love. 

Lose Control. Life is chaos,  for both the spider and the fly. So build a web, save a plate for someone else. Be the bigger person by letting go of all the taboos and norms. 

Move.  Morph. Don’t stay on pause. Brave your face to withstand the storm. Set the stage, break the vase that holds your form, son! do not conform. 

Collin Atuti. 😋

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