Poets Who Really Hate Poets-

Poets Who Really Hate Poets
That about sums it up
You are that
In your false goddess chair
Without a care
Couldn’t dare to give a shit
About something
Anyone, it would appear
Except
Yourself of course
Look at me
I’m so Witchy
Ornate silver
Pretend goth
You love words?
Or do you need them
To exercise your demons
Dr. Pimple Popper
On your back
Squeezing
The vile fake out of you
Are You real
Are You real
Wtf
I’m sure you
Like so many others
Write down your Pain
Your Trauma
Suicidal thoughts and Dogma
Then probably make it Rhyme
And call your shitty life poetry
You’ll get your attention
Your, “I feel you sisters”
Your “You’re So Strong
To have endured”
It fills your belly
So Satisfying
No more Hunger
No more Hunger
Just a Tape Worm
In Your Gut
Keeping you
At your desired weight.
You who Really Do
Hate Poets
And people
And Cautious of Kindness
You’ve hurt More fucking people
All of your life
In the False lie of justice
Because…
You Don’t Care….
Missing parts
Parts destroyed
Parts missing
Parts thrown away
Or
Just Ig~Nored
Let’s pretend
For
Just
A
Moment
That you’re Kool, not a Fool
Why wouldn’t, couldn’t you be?
Is that what makes people weak
In Your Eyes at least
Do they “Bore” you
A chore to you
As
Children hold hands
Circling
Singing
Circling
Singing
Holding hands
Around and around
Faster and Faster
Echoing
Ring a Round the Rosie
Like covered wagons
Colonizers
With Guns
And Muskets drawn
Pointed towards the middle
Making, taking AIM
At their Mark….
At the shame…
Click
Click
Click
Around
And Around
Faster
Faster
Whirlwind
Headspin
Caught in a dustbin
Children know right from wrong
Good from Evil
Pride from empathy
Children are Poets too
Poets who Really hate Poets
Well
One’s that are full of shit anyway
Ignorance is Bliss
Well
That’s what the ignorant believe
At any rate, time tells what’s up
Just give it a Beat
Poetry for Poets
Is not for the sheep
Or the Fake
The self-titled Kool
The rat inside the clique
That never wiped its shoes
“They” say…
You can judge a person
By the friends they keep
But…
Is that So?
Calling a Wolf
In sheep’s clothing
A Wolf
Is To kind
It’s a coward, an opportunist
A funky, junkie
Fall for me, see?
It’s not about transparency
A flunky, on your knees please
Do you bleed
Do you breathe
I’m not sure that you’re human
Prove it to me
I’m bored
You want to be adored
Be fake
Rattlesnake
False fangs
No poison
Fake rattle in place
Slither, Slither
Wither away
You may Be dark
But that Darkness is within you
You, may even realize
In time
That You ARE The Magnet
That drew all of the whack
Fucked Up Shit to yourself
Abusive relationships
One after another
Time
And
Time again
It’s a cycle
And you don’t realize
This is taught
Comes down
From generations
And you heal, you deal
Try to appeal
For momentary affection
You just kick to the curb
The shit you write and read
We’re Not Your therapy
You Really have No place to be
Except
In the shadows that you design
To keep the True world at bay
Is That happiness?
…Of sorts…
If you settle…
Build a shelter from trash
Be arrogant and brash
Be something that your Not
That’s sad, not Saying a lot
Well…
To Be?
Or
Not to Be…
I don’t think, you’ll ever truly Know
Being that you Are…
A “Poet” who really hates poets

(matthew bowers) ~93
©2021