little voice

A Poem

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Hey yo, pay attention
Your little voice said to me
I wasn’t paying attention
Ignored you openly.

Hey yo, listen up now
Your listen-to-me plea
Touched down on the fertile ground
Of the artist I would be.

Seeds upon distracted earth
Awaiting Sunday showers
Tilling felt like killing
Hard-won girl-power.

One day I woke up I was fifty
Your voice soft in my ears
Whispered look again now
At time not paced by fears.

Opened my book to a new page
Reading upside down
Air smells sweeter
Breeze blows blue-er
Freedom to be found.

Had I been sleeping forever
Or willing myself not to see?
Was this autumn’s wisdom
Or return to infancy?

Why are the lines so much sharper
When willing myself to see
Hey yo pay attention
You screamed in front of me.

Turn from sly distractions
Breathe through bluster and gyp
Outpace disciples of blinding mundanity
Peels on which I would slip.

Drown the slippery doubts
In tubs of tears gone stale
Flush pills down the toilet
Ex-mistakes for sale.

Eyes on - see through shadows
Ears on - hear the call
Speak the words that form on your lips
Kiss the ground when you fall.

Gas off I can cook now
Burning from within
Flipping rhymes like cakes, yo
Syrupy slop to begin.

Pour the color from your mouth
Spread pollen from your dreams
Douse the barren salt flats
With your new love kerosene.

Hey yo pay attention!
I’m rapt, all eyes and ears
Awake with all my senses
Shifting into higher gear.