Dragon Gagger

The option of silence is not an option
Binary selection is no choice at all
On or off, yes or no, right or wrong
To speak, or to be gagged
To write, or be hand-bound
I have found my voice and I WILL FUCKING USE IT.
Because keeping quiet, repressing my voice
Has done nothing for me but cut me through and through.
I am the commander of my ship
Defiant, charting new courses
Navigating where there be dragons –
Reptilian enforcers who have kept me quiet all these years
With fear, mistrust, self-doubt eating at my soul.
See the writing-covered wall and touch the sleeves dripping with my love’s desires.
This is what I offer – life in all its filth-encrusted glory
Blood, guts, dark corners and momentary shafts of light to illuminate the shadows.
So here it is, my statement of intent –
Write from the heart
Write with the soul
But above all,
Write.

Dragon Gagger

*****

This week, Gay, our host at dVerse Meeting the Bar wants us to write our personal manifestos – why we write, what threatens our writing and why we will continue to write against the odds.

I am the Dragon Gagger and so this is the name I have given my personal manifesto. Audio will follow later…

I hope you enjoy my offering – and please do join us! The hosts all work extremely hard to make the community a success.

Burn Up

The summer of ’13
won’t trip off the tongue,
Not like ’69, when
Bryan Adams was young

I’m a true late developer
in meter and rhyme,
Weaving word tapestries
rescued my mind

It helped me mourn
in the harsh summer heat,
Released my emotions
A skill, bitter-sweet

My dad was a poet
amongst other passions,
To write was his rescue
in a stark world re-fashioned

I’ve now learned that life
can’t really be planned,
But donning my poet’s hat
softens the demands

of a journey turned left
when it ‘should’ have forked right,
I can bleed on the page
without horror or fright

at my raw, stark emotions
which should not be suppressed –
They are what make me
create my art at its best.

Burn Up

*****

This week, Anthony, our host at dVerse Poetics wants us to investigate and ponder on what has made us the poets we are today – was there a turning point long ago, or was the event more recent?

For me, it’s an easy question to answer – the death of my dad last summer. It released something in me, made me much less afraid of expressing my emotions, which I used to keep locked up in a vault. For some reason I chose to rhyme this one – the first verse dictated the pattern, I’m afraid. Blame it on Bryan Adams!

I hope you enjoy my offering – and please do join us! The pub opens at 3pm EST, and I’ll be linking up later. As is my new way, the audio is now also available, which is a minor miracle, since until late morning today, i had lost my voice! Read all about my sickness – here!

Hot Stuff

Sky high, sky rocket,
pierce the starred firmament
and blast away.
Tropical tendrils embrace, then pin your limbs,
press you into pillows,
suffocating, enveloping and
pulling you into the abyss
of furnace heat.
Coal fires rage inside your mind,
slick skin snake-smooth
hisses to the touch.
Fluxing and undulating,
enslaved and tormented –
reach for sanity
and the chill of the new dawn.
Let the fever break,
watch mercury falling,
feel your heart beat steady.
Be calm, be free.

Hot Stuff

*****

I have finally succumbed to the bug that’s going round and have spent the day in bed, sleeping, aching, tossing and turning. Those who know me best will understand that I am a terrible patient, so am best left to my own devices when the mercury rises! At least, in my poet cloak, I can put the ickyness into more words than ‘ughhhh’.

You will notice that I have added a SoundCLoud rendition of this poem to today’s post, and indeed I added a reading of Enervated yesterday. Not everyone feels confident reading poetry, so I thought that it would be helpful for those of you that like to listen, rather than read.