Some poems, just like ideas, are beyond form and function, are beyond perfect explanation. |
-Red Flag- by Keaton Foster Upon A hill Distant The shrills Men screaming Potent words I don’t understand How could I ever They are sending me And many others A clear message But I am not Nor have I ever Been understanding I refuse to hear it I refuse to believe it I remain down here In the muck And mire Of such an existence One of my choosing One of my damnation Tedious are these days Expressionless waves Crash down upon me I struggle to get out The next potent idea Before each new breaker Smashes across my crown They Those men so far away Have their own ideas Clearer than any of mine They know what to say And how to say it Quite rehearsed They have the answers They know the questions They fear nothing They are safe Far above this sea Far beyond these waves They themselves Appear as mountains Within every darkness Beacons of light Allowing me to see If I would just open my eyes If I would just hear What I have always refused To understand as words I’m uncomfortable Not trusting I swear they are lying Not to me But to themselves They spin a tale Greater than any I have ever told They lead meaning And purpose Into a deeper abyss Than this ocean Of endless ideas That I have become Saddled with They tell others Of what they wish What they need to hear They build them up Higher than ever before And right as they meet At the highest of peak They grab them Kicking and screaming They burdened them With a weight More than most can carry A weight That can never be shed They toss them from above Into the depths of nothing Into a deeper abyss Ever thought possible And there I fear They forever remain It is no hell Nor an inferno There are no monsters Creatures wishing harm There is just one thing One concept That I myself fear Greater than all else In that place In that way Those so down below Those so burdened Have no original ideas No thoughts of their own They, at great peril To themselves Believe without question What it is they have been told And from that point on They question nothing Of such words Because they serve something Beyond themselves An whatever perils they face They serve a greater idea Than I could ever express Such belief makes them without sight Without truth of meaning Such belief takes away Any vision they once had I myself See such meaning Such an existence As a red flag Within a world Where we indeed Must make our own choices And live within those decisions… Red Flag Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2016/2017. |