Saturday, April 15, 2017

Poetry - "Middle-Aged Manifesto" #NaPoWriMo Day 15







Day 15:







Middle-Aged Manifesto
by Jennifer Patino

1.

If I am half-way to death, I may as well pen a manifesto
A Middle-Aged Manifesto, they could call it

Manifestos are an act of terror
depending on who you talk to,
and I am shaking in fear as I write this

The planet has descended
We are no longer stuck, but free-
falling
past
the
point of
no return
and still we are here

The air is thick with greed,
it's stifling
Collective hysteria
is the worst hysteria
and it's not hysterical
now--
(like we thought it would be)
--that the BEAST has risen

Too many names for evil
too many names for the
things he called
us
&
you

and now

them
&
us

It's us vs. them

This is too far out of the spiral
of what we thought
was normalcy
and it all reads
like satire

Reality TV is in charge
We will pay for our
subscriptions to see
how the other side
lives in the civil
lawsuit money
we'll never win
when we're drinking
poison to stay alive

We will not be able to
barter with lives we
won't have

We won't have ground left
to bury ourselves in


2.

The ghosts are gathering
I can't welcome them
or their guidance
because I can't hear
through their sobs

We're all frolicking in
“it doesn't matter!”
when we're constantly
looking over our shoulders

communities
s c a t t e r

If you are a woman,
you're a breeding machine
If you are a man,
you better learn to act mean

There is no protection from
the powers
who get their powers
from the powers
that be

( Be Afraid )

Cries to the higher power,
Our Father,
He shakes his head sadly,
because
we
did
this

The signals are
interrupted
and jammed
because our hard-
helmet-wear
is outdated

I hear them though
They sing like bells
and shake their
heads too

“We'll see you soon,
When all this is through”


3.

And here I am
stuck in the middle
of the rocky mountains and
the hardest place I've ever been
with you

When the panic subsides
and the dirty air
fills my lungs
with longing,
and lies to survive
another day,

I will begin anew
I want this world,
and myself,
to be made brand new



Author's Note: I did the optional prompt today and wrote a poem reflecting on the nature of being in the middle of something. I'm only almost 34, but I can't say I'm used to many people I've known living past the age of 60, so if this is my mid-life, it'll make sense to me. ;) This piece also touches upon aging and being stuck in a chronically ill body that started doing things that only "old people" deal with starting at the age of 25 when my symptoms struck me. The piece also has glimpses of the state of our current world dusting its edges.




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