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Go out

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Go out,

Fill the world with pictures

Painted on the silence

Of a line break.


Go out,

Learn the taste of every syllable,

Learn to discern the

Sweet undertone of “pale”

From the bitter aftertaste of “ashen”

Learn how polysyllables like “beloved”

Must be dusted rather than poured

To avoid insipidity;

But how the simple pronoun “She”

Can still scald your tongue

After a thousand invocations.


Go out,

Inhale the aromas of utterance,

And do not recoil from them,

The heady flavors of sweet nothings

Are no more valid

Than the pungent whiffs of rejection

Or the acrid stench of preemptive farewells.


Go out,

Feel the textures of layered meanings,

Notice how the slippery sheen of metaphor,

Helps smooth out sandpaper truth


Go out,

Hear the colors of the human heart,

The stark white of any empty bed,

The emerald glare of unjust absence,

Listen to the pallid gray at the bottom

Of every bottle

Until you can notice again,

The sparkling blue of early morning


Go out,

Seek the pain that others shun

And shape it until it's beautiful.

Find the symmetry in a broken heart,

Hear the resonance in every tirade,

Bask in the heat of burning bridges,

And forge tears into glittering pools.


Go out,

Live your life in second person,

“I” cuts too close to marrow now

So use “You” in its place,

The space this shift affords,

Will sharpen your perception,

And let you see every thread

In the tapestry behind the moment.


Go out,

Speak until the words

come more naturally than breath.

Until they form a rushing channel

Between soul and page

Blur the lines between work and self

Until the very thought of a you

Without the words is blasphemy.


Go out,

Pay your tithes

To the bitch goddess of verse

Sacrifice Love and Limb

In her name.

You may have been something before her

But now you will be nothing without her.


Go out,

Experience the consumptive power of obsession.

No food tastes as sweet as a perfect line,

So starve yourself looking for it.

Friends words will fall flat compared to the music

You've grown accustomed to

So ignore them for it.


Go out,

Squander your given gifts

You could use your verse

To heal and inspire

But instead

Learn to use them

To carve out petty vengeance.


Go out,

Forget any name but poet

Break down those

Who dare get close

Until they are no more

Than source material.


Go out,

Realize too late

That your words suffer

As a result of your relationship with them

Realize you have consumed all within you

And are finally out of kindling


Go out,

Try to mend mortal wounds with band-aids

Spin weak stories of your perceived innocence

Use your words to reveal truth no more

But to mask it instead


Go out,

And learn your lessons a week too late

After you have become no more too them

Than the man on the stage

You will learn that that is not enough


Go out,

And empty yourself

Purge the words,

And burn the pages

Erase every sign

Of what you've been

And when you have done that

Go out

And learn the verse again.

Comments (1)

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I REALLY liked this poem Thank-you!

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