a voice can influence nations
but they can't persuade minds

Dost thou even go here?
Can thou even read?
Doth thou know the website thou art on?
Poetry be what we breed!

Ye foolish man!
Ye simpleton!
From whom unrefinement flows!
Thou shalt not write,
On a poetry site,
A work of ****** prose!

Oh yeah? Watch me.

Hello beautiful people. I'm in the mood to philosophize. And this being a poetry site, let's make the topic poetry. (WARNING: this piece will be filled with opinions, personal beliefs, and probably a little butter. If you don't agree with anything I say, good for you. Way to have opinions. AND WHATEVER YOU DO. DON'T SUBSTITUTE MARGARINE FOR THE BUTTER!) Ok, so poetry. I like poetry. And since I'm the one writing this, I'm gonna tell you about my philosophy, and my personal style and influences.
My philosophy that I try to live by is minimalism. Which is NOT laziness! Minimalism is quite difficult really. Anyone can write a nice fluffy poem (and yes, nice fluffy poems can be dark pieces about death and the like.) What minimalism is to me,  is the stripping away of all of that fluff to get down to the raw emotion of a piece. An abundance of words pollutes the emotion.
Now, my stylistic mumbo jumbo. My aesthetic has gone through a few phases. A lot of my work is very modernist. What that means is that it deals a lot with... well with failure. Failure of the human race, failure of people, and my own personal failure. But also with separation. Some prime examples of my modernist works are  "here I lay a martyr" and "of my faults and follies"
The next phase is when I started writing music for my band (Bisclaveret Marie, we're on Facebook. Check it out.) I became enamored with a man by the name of Jack White. (yes, that Jack White. The one formerly of the White Stripes.) Also the source of my minimalist approach, Jack revived my love for the Blues. When that came crashing into my poetry, it was definitely for the better.
The next phase was surrealism. The use of images and metaphors and weirdness to paint a picture of the emotion I choose to write about. (I don't really know how to describe this, just go read Though There Be Dragons, A Journey Through The Mind of a Madman. It'll make more sense.)
And most recently the Blues have seen a renaissance in my work. The simple lyric structures and rhyme patterns tickle my inner minimalist.
Yeah, so that's my spiel. If you actually read this, you freaking deserve a medal

People will try to brain wash you
  They pelt their ideas,
    Throw their beliefs in every direction
      Hoping that one of their bullets will stick.
    People want you on their team.
  Any idea or belief opposing theirs?
Well that’s downright disgusting.

  Convert to this side,
    Sway to that
      Sometimes it’s fiction
    People forget about the fact.
  What happened to individuality?
The choice of right or wrong?
  It’s beginning to be so hard to see
    Where one fits amoung the throng.
      You begin to shift your own ideals
    You begin to change your side
  Simply to blend in with the crowd
It’s just another way to hide.
  You hide behind that thick façade
    Always worn for show
      You’re melting inside little by little.
    You’ll be nothing before you know.

You are invited as our guest
This is saying welcome at our request
Examine the feeling of words from the ceiling to the hall
Notice how inspiration, understanding and persuasion stand tall
They are the concept within our introduction
A Poet’s creation being a seduction
Let’s explore follow me on the floor
Once we turn the corner we will be at the word sure
As we walk the halls, please notice poet’s faces
If you look closely you will see masterpiece traces
As a poet, it is the meaning with the rhyme
When you write poetry, please keep that in mine
Poetry Plaza built on poetry thoughts
You talked and we listened
Notice how the words begin and how they seem to gleam in
As we take the elevator down
We covered an array of poetry that was hanging around
Well thank you for taking the Poetry Plaza escorted tour
You now know what a poet writes for
I am just so glad you were able to explore
Continue to write in how you feel and turning your creativity in being for real.

And so it's over
we, who set each other alight
who had the potential to fulfil
one another's deepest needs
we can't even be friends

So it's time to weigh
it all in the balance
to see if the positives we take away
make all that pain worthwhile
I can speak only for me
what you've gained and lost
I cannot tell
but there's so much for which
my thanks are due

The penny was dropping anyway
but loving you tipped the scales
for the first time I had a love
who didn't reinforce
the pretence of being male
a love who could give her love
to the real me
and if she could accept me
then I could accept me too

Thanks are due too
for giving me reason
to question my diet
to notice that wheat
has unwanted effects
for nudging me to face up
to needing work on my fitness
for the rediscovery
that a workout's enjoyable
for helping me listen
with a different ear
to some music
to realise that rap
isn't just crap
and now Kylie reminds me
that all the lovers
who've gone before
don't compare to you
and how could they?

Then there's the acceptance
that things that happened
when I was young
count as abuse
though at first
my knowing about you
had the opposite effect
the same effect
hearing others disclose had
that mine, in comparison
paled into insignificance
something I dare not mention
for fear I'd be called out
named a pathetic drama queen
so I silenced myself
self censored and shut up
but now I can think about it
and break the denial

And with time I'm letting go
more than I could before
because it's always been hopeless
when the love of your life
belongs to another
and consummation is no option
you learn to take the pain
of knowing it can never be
yet there's still cause
to mourn a love
that never really was
that never could have been

Some questions are unanswered
and perhaps always will be so
those needs you said you must express
are they gone or just repressed?
buried under work success
and gym exertion done alone
and keeping harmony at home
or did you find another outlet?
someone else with whom to roam
or is the harmony for real?
and you've worked your issues through
found your love for her is true
that you don't need the other stuff
that I could give to lift you up
to give you wings
to make you sing
Or is it, with Kylie again
Better the devil you know?
rather than one who's twice your age
and of dodgy gender history

But whatever becomes
I'll still love you
until the end of time
and who can tell
maybe next time round
in some life to come
we'll get to make it rhyme

Cynthia Pauline Jones, March 2013

"Oh, they aren't listening to the words.
They just like the beat."

I don't know why you aren't listening to me,
when I tell you that they do.
There's no way they can't.

I don't know how you continue to turn a blind eye,
while your nine year olds mouth the words "*******"
as they jump around on the dance floor.

You doing nothing
is doing serious damage.

They will grow up believing that if the words
that turn women into objects were so wrong,
Mom would have stopped them.

The will grow up thinking that if they were really worth
more than what records say they are,
You would have told them.

They aren't listening to the words.
The words are raising them.