Angry (the poem)

Posted: May 8, 2016 in Uncategorized

I haven’t posted a poem on here in quite a while. The next one in my book (the oldest one I haven’t posted), is one that some people have heard but I haven’t performed it in a while.

 

Context – February, 2013

This one is interesting because the roots of the poem aren’t what it ended up being.

I was having some anger problems. I don’t mean anger management – I have never been that guy – just that I was finding that everything around me in the world had the potential to really piss me off. It was happening over and over.

So I wrote a poem. The problem is, as I was writing it, it kept coming out funny instead of mad. Basically, once I said out loud all the things that were tipping me over, it seemed ridiculous. So I went that was instead. I had fun.

I formed a different version of this as a team piece with V at the 2013 CFSW. We didn’t score as well as I hoped and THAT REALLY PISSED ME… just kidding. It was fun. We had fun.

ANGRY

 

A family friend once said
“It’s nice to see you happy.
I don’t think you were
Very happy growing up.”
The irony was that she was
Right about the latter
And wrong about the former
Which I suppose meant
I had grown better at
Hiding in plain sight
In order to fit in.

But I think I grew up
To value happiness
Like gold –
Though it was much more
Rare and precious.
It is like a priceless vase
Kept well protected behind
A thick vault door
In order to keep it from harm.
You know it is there
But you can’t bring it out to play
In case you slip
And lose it forever.

I am not unhappy.
I am not joyless.
I just hold my emotions tightly,
Rationing them out
In dribs and drabs
Afraid that if I give to much,
I will release the anger
That eats at my insides
Like a CARNIVOROUS PARASITE
KEPT FROM LAYING WASTE
TO THE COUNTRYSIDE
Only by a thin eggshell skin,
Straining from the pressure.

It is an irrational anger.
It isn’t just anger at an unjust world,
That would be understandable.
I get angry at
Racists / sexists / homophobes, sure
But also the rude… line-jumpers…
Loud-talkers…
Bus drivers, marketers, fast drivers,
Slow drivers, cyclists, pedestrians,
The middle class, MBAs and MMAs,
The over-confident and the
Perpetually later –
The unapologetically judgmental
And the unopinionated as well,
ANYONE who wants to TELL ME WHAT TO DO.
Low slam scores, icy sidewalks,
Wind in my face or sun on my neck,
Skipping DVDs and no cel service,
The CULT OF THE ENTITLED
And ANYONE who EVER
VOTES CONSERVATIVE
As if having an opinion that
Differs from mine is a
Personal insult.
And DAMN IT
Keep me away from those
IDIOTS on the INTERNET
Who don’t know how SHORT
The SHELF-LIFE of a MEME
SHOULD BE!

All bottled up inside a shell
That, let’s face it,
Makes me angry,
A hundred pound overweight,
An overcompensated hairline
And a face nobody would
Mistake for good looking.
But mostly I get angry
About being angry.
I would like my brain
To match my body
Only in its similarity to
Buddha.
I try to count my blessings
But all THAT does is
Make me ANGRY about
What we VALUE in this world.

I don’t rant and rave
Because if I can do one thing
To make the world better
It is to not add to the
Chaos and violence
That make us all angry
So I bottle it up
And fight my inner demons
Holding them UNDER THAT CALM BLUE OCEAN
UNTIL ANGER ABOUT ANGER
IS REPLACED BY SERENITY NOW!
But if that doesn’t work
It’s really going to piss me off.

 

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