"insurrection" poems - Hello Poetry

Features, my reflection— subtle hints stare back offering wordless reply, their evidence a betrayal of age. A wrinkle looking deeper, mane of face, of head—hairs fresh lacking pigment. Vain attempts made to mend heart, to sooth soul's dread. Testimony of experience of wisdom, persistence, perception, an impotent contraceptive, the argument aberrant. Regret to cloud memory, my youth seeming a flesh and blood cliche. Tiny footnotes heavy with prose, words in bold to distract mind's eye—a demand of attention. Edging out tomb's more beautiful weight of love and heartache of passion's attempt failing, to try again, sinking before succeeding. An era's dusk and dawn anew, life's advent unpredictable—without cause changing. Notion hanging lingering, poisoning future, the venom of defeat an insidious invasion. This new age creeping toward night in this stage my life's sun less bright. Maturity's introduced responsibility, some enjoyable while others to own hostility. A brigand mugging freedom—time for leisure. Spurring combat for what remains of youth, fingers wrapping air in futile seizure. The inevitable to command subservience, presuming ownership of life, though the mature demonstrate the defiance of the immature. Objects, activities, music assaulting ear, their manner, symbols of strict adherence to who once was— a spiteful surrender refusal. A piece of me defining me until no more, years holding power—threatening to change who I am at very core. Canvas construction the colour of murre, rubber toe caps the shade of pure. Design worn since youth, dead and resurrected; a million mile shoe of valorous resistance—insurrection, a Converse rebellion. In torment of age's scars, I'll never be too old to wear my All Stars.

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Nov 18, 2014

Nov 18, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC

shaun-meehan

Converse Rebellion

Features, my reflection— subtle hints stare back offering wordless reply, their evidence a betrayal of age. A wrinkle looking deeper, mane of face, of head—hairs fresh lacking pigment. Vain attempts made to mend heart, to sooth soul's dread. Testimony of experience of wisdom, persistence, perception, an impotent contraceptive, the argument aberrant. Regret to cloud memory, my youth seeming a flesh and blood cliche. Tiny footnotes heavy with prose, words in bold to distract mind's eye—a demand of attention. Edging out tomb's more beautiful weight of love and heartache of passion's attempt failing, to try again, sinking before succeeding. An era's dusk and dawn anew, life's advent unpredictable—without cause changing. Notion hanging lingering, poisoning future, the venom of defeat an insidious invasion. This new age creeping toward night in this stage my life's sun less bright. Maturity's introduced responsibility, some enjoyable while others to own hostility. A brigand mugging freedom—time for leisure. Spurring combat for what remains of youth, fingers wrapping air in futile seizure. The inevitable to command subservience, presuming ownership of life, though the mature demonstrate the defiance of the immature. Objects, activities, music assaulting ear, their manner, symbols of strict adherence to who once was— a spiteful surrender refusal. A piece of me defining me until no more, years holding power—threatening to change who I am at very core. Canvas construction the colour of murre, rubber toe caps the shade of pure. Design worn since youth, dead and resurrected; a million mile shoe of valorous resistance—insurrection, a Converse rebellion. In torment of age's scars, I'll never be too old to wear my All Stars.