Learn To Swim

A Poem by Davidgeo

.

all that it is

we amazing creatures with phenomenal features

diarrhea streams of sweet dreams

recited by the mt rushmore types

from ivory minds

our most learned of history teachers

spoken authority on mistakes and repeated coy wisdoms; plus other constucts of failure

and all that, (there's lead in the water).

of nightmare creatures; just more requiems for the heroes

poetically damming our foes

under the cover of romantic histories

and the counting of eons gone by

it's all told quite nice

i should think, after all

'twas written and revised two million times more than twenty

a simulation that lost it's copy

now

nothing else more than a construct

of papers and digits

edited because it's perfect

so it has to be

learned to be fawned over

to be fought over

our history, to wit, what we judge with

how we deem people worthy of being killed

over what we call value

worthy to die to for

in the name of

measurng up, hoping to refine

all that it may be

it's a lie

this the most amazing feature of a most phenomenal creature

our belief without reason

and that this too shall pass

like all was before it

becoming what once was

rocks in a bed

tangible history

wholly forgotten

the truth of our ark

remains to be remembered

© 2016 Davidgeo

Author's Note

My Review

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Featured Review

Nessly

Oh you're tugging on my heart strings with this one. First of all, I love tool and thought of them when I saw the title. I was even more excited to see their song in your author's note. Needless to say, this song was playing in the background while reading your poem. It seems to me that you are referring to all of our mistakes in the past and how they've shaped where we're going as a race. Overall, it sounds like the narrator is sick of what's going on in the world, and thinks people need to think for themselves and "learn to swim." In the last stanza I feel a sort of hope, however, that things will continue and someday we'll be a part of history. Hopefully as humanity carries on we'll learn from our mistakes and move forward. I love the language of this poem. "Diarrhea streams of sweet dreams," paints a very distinct and somewhat disturbing image in my head. I'm sure I overlooked something in regards to your intent with this poem, as always, fill me in if I'm wrong.