this piece is to be said as aggressively as possible without stopping, only a sharp directed breath may interrupt
Sam the ****** I remember the first time someone called me that I didn't even know what it meant But I walked away from it Carrying in me, like a violated orchard, seeds of Hate
It must have been middle school Way back when everybody was trying to be cool Packs of brown skinned wolves hunting away my innocence Wearing away at a, soon to be ruined, patience
I told my mom what people call me And she didnt blink Well what did you do to them? That question rocked me And fractures gave introduction to faults that would never find meeting
Mercantile in nature, fearful but loyal Friends I may or may not have had kept me inside myself and corporeal But I was a teenage solider I hated myself for fear of affirming, the notion that I was no longer a controller I hated, and that was the story
For a time anyways I had no god, no group, guru Who could teach me to grow and perhaps love But that word tore everything I tried to learn to shreds
Sam the ******! Theyd yell whenever they knew my skin was crawling And all I had were crutches and journal to keep that big bad wolf at bay Each brick I lay became ash Every star I counted became a nova My white crippled wings became leather
I could have recited thousands of mantras Ate a million crackers Sang a hundred hymns But hate was in my heart
My short comings and any kind of flaw Was not a burden to be lifted It was a fire that kept me warm and sane
Every voice in me said to be vengeful Many said to stand against the wolves And a few sometimes said to love But I was an ant fighting the sun
And the only way to live was to hate
Not the way of redneck rhetoric But the kind that made me a social heretic Stay by the flames I would ponder This weak skin will burn away and no longer wander
I had to become the iron clad infrastructure of my own life To straighten up, tighten, and become repellent Like the skin stretched tight across the war drum that was my young heart
I will stand resolute, and triumphant Foster my hate into purpose A heart colored black, to fight against wolves numbering in the hundreds Armed with a new weapon of strength, forged fresh from the furnace
Hate was my god, it saved me While others pitifully succumbed to theirs Like Acheron, it ferried Sam the ****** to safety I learned to hate equally and with cause to quench the burning with pause
Language became my sword and my shield The deadly omnipotent airblade that could keep me alive Even when all I wanted was to die I wont be happy until everything is dead! Said Sam the Fagggot But The Melting Man inside me was the inhabitant
Of this mind That would hate in the defense of those who are weak Which would always loathe those who let miasma make them meek I was a cracked churchbell who would ring to free the ears clogged with ignorance And my hands would wipe away the blinding tar of intolerance
It wasnt until I thought myself a poet would I know Hate was an archaic riptide that killed the minds of many with its violent flow Sam the ****** was a beast, something akin to a weapon And I had learned to dismantle it and leave deadened
2014 my first stab at "slam" poetry or just writing and speaking my work differently