You want motherf*cking poetry?
...
Yeah you want poetry but you are too afraid to live it
Fucking live it as if your very life depended on it
Which of course
It does…
It does
So put down this poem and pick up your heart and hold it in your hands and go to your window and kick it open and set your heart free
Free to live
Free to finally live
Do it now
Do it now before that thing in your skull which you think is your friend tells you to stop being so
Ridiculous
Do it now before your life flies away
Flies into
routine
and
habit
and
small talk
and
even smaller thoughts
Do it now!
Before it’s too late
Before this poem ceases to be a poem
and your life no longer is yours
Just do it please
Do it for me
Do it for us
Because this rodeo may only last eight seconds tops
So
Make it fucking count
Stop that chirping
That chatter
That goddamn logic and
Go dance on the ledge of your life
Go and love on the cusp of death
Go and throw yourself off the cliffs of your morality
Go and fucking drive into the wall of your sin and
Crash onto the shore of everything you’ve ever known but have been too afraid to find out
Go and finally
Blessedly
Wickedly be all of the poetry that has existed in you since the Universe exploded into being and fell into space
Go and be all you can be and please sing
Sing for me
Sing for the messenger who was killed
Killed in the deliverance of our love
Killed out of necessity
Killed out of sacrificial rite of passage from the ordinary into the all-inary
But never weep
Unless those tears hold the pearls of joy and gratitude for our stars
Our stars colliding
Colliding and exploding into all that has ever been and that all of who and what we are will go into all we could have been and that contains all that will ever be
So that we may rest
Finally rest
In the knowing that God truly exists and
He was hiding inside
Inside us this whole time
and we finally
finally set her free by
crushing our shells and
stripping away our protective layer of societal duties
to know that She has been us all along
and the egg and the chicken never did come first but for the fact we made it so by being so
so run now
Run to the rooftop of your soul and scream this word
Scream it from the top of your God
Yes!!
and stop reading this goddamn poem and go and live your poem out loud
Live it so loud that I must halt my pen from moving across this page and smile
Smile because finally I know
I know that God is alive
Alive
and
Dancing - Steven R. O'Brien