Poems I'm in the Mood For
Follow linktr.ee/originalgiotis for a curated list of culture writing as I publish.
Order
‘Those tabs kicking in yet?’ with that devious smile.
Years later I learned you didn't take any, you lied instead.
Respect.
For those of us that dropped,
the phase-shifted guitar delay of the Jesus and Mary Chain
rose like a dragon
roaring, primal green wings unfurling above
mortal organisms gathered across grass and concrete,
there for everything.
You stood big,
the biggest head in the world,
keeping an eye on us for our own good.
My girl and I wandered near the grass
barefoot, feeling no discomfort from the blacktop
despite radiant energy scorching the pavement,
sublime sear upon the sole of the foot.
~Original Giotis
This Is It
Klaxons sound.
Crackling over the supermarket intercom,
muddled by the moans of the anxious
and shouts of those coordinating to survive,
the store manager confirms the worst.
‘This is it,
there’s no time,
everyone, take 2 bags of food.’
Even as the events that used to mark years wore away
and summer came all the time,
we did our best to live as we always had.
Now we line up one last time for essentials
before everyone zig-zags off in different directions
to throw the others off their trail.
Outside, paper and clothing tumble through the intersection
as we rush with our heads down,
long shadows cast by the reddening sky.
You don’t see coming
what’s there every day.
Now it’s here for us, for everything we thought gave life meaning:
cars and their stinking gas, remote adventure holidays,
career advancement, IRAs, home team championships.
None of that matters now.
It’s down to guns, food, and blankets;
that’s all consumer civilization gave us in the end.
Was there a chance
to get the message through?
That powers must balance each other
and that while individuals might pursue chaos,
civilization must strive for order.
Who receives this message if not you?
Take this second to breathe,
look without seeing,
listen without judgment,
release everything,
inhale again,
look at the world around you.
This is it.
~Original Giotis
OK HUMAN
You guys,
poetry is living.
The real poem
is your life.
All the pieces
already fit.
Except this.
What I mean is,
craft isn’t living.
You only need one word.
You choose
the one.
~Original Giotis