Bitter About This
people in the ghetto
insist upon entertaining
who does not wish to be entertained
poverty of their limited awareness
all up in your senses
like a foul smell
what they think is music and amplify
is mess
I wish they would flush it
instead of serving it up,
serving it to who has not ordered it –
does not wish it
wish they would keep it
entirely to themselves
suffocate on it, choke on what
they seem to love so much
muck I detest
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:49 p.m. 23/may/07
people in the ghetto
insist upon entertaining
who does not wish to be entertained
poverty of their limited awareness
all up in your senses
like a foul smell
what they think is music and amplify
is mess
I wish they would flush it
instead of serving it up,
serving it to who has not ordered it –
does not wish it
wish they would keep it
entirely to themselves
suffocate on it, choke on what
they seem to love so much
muck I detest
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:49 p.m. 23/may/07
posted by Obie Quiet at 4:37 AM
1 Comments:
your poem recognizes a decline of the forgotten not from its immediate self but rather an indictment on the decline of the other who has been made impotent..Your question in the poem asks who is there to direct where the shit goes when it spills out into the street and into all who see it and live it?? Wolves often like to taste of lamb and better when its raw...and diarhoea is indicative of loose bowels after digested poison food. A correction and intrusion to your poem if you will forgive me...
Ghettos only exists in the mind. Slums are merely induced by poverty..and when the soul goes from the mind, no amount of cash can bring back the heart...thanks for the poem...DVH
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