Freedom – A Poem

Give me my freedom

I cannot give what you deny you have

Give me my freedom

I can only offer mine, trap you in my life


Strive for freedom, now

To live without bounds, as if this were,

Somehow, our natural state

‘I am not black or white, and my history,

All the law and art that bound me,

I have forgotten, with great effort.’


The verse is blank, the poetry prose

Written apropos of the language

Of Sunday supplements and headlines

Written quickly, for our readers

Have deadlines. Painting is passé

Simply re-arranged some artefact

Of the everyday so it appears


Less commonplace. This is an expensive business.

Watching a film can be a chore

If something does not explode between

Each dialogue episode of plot moving

Couplets, less scripted than cut-outs.

No need to wait for the actor,


Or the producer, usually late

If they are a commuter.

We can pull out a box of chips and shoot her.


“Yes please, yes please, now I am truly free

To eat my hamburger instantly, while pictures entertain me

And newspapers complain superficially,

And the chiefs explain me, an ASBO in the making.

My attention is waning. I need coffee

To stay awake, then distract me

For goodness sake, until the big game.


I want to see twenty-two inflated wages,

Forty-four sponsored shoes run

Their hording shirts up and down the line,

A hundred times. But what is wrong?

Something weird is going on as they dash

Randomly about, the ball ignored


However much we shout. Some on the pitch,

Some in the stands, some resting and some

With racquets in their hands.

The referee is reading Socrates.

The crowd is tense, pensive, and I fear

Trouble brews, as an outlet for the confused


Minds thrown into the unknown,

Into the chaos. This cannot go on.

The vertigo of lost boundaries

Lawlessness. You cannot play games

Unless rules are made, to give form to the pieces

And someone regulates.


So too the poets, modernists, sculptor and novelist

So too the economist, the bin-men (or street hygienist)

The anarchist and socialist… ENOUGH


Thankyou Wolfe and Joyce, (to name two

Of a thousand voices), now we can see,

What was and not necessary. We have choice.

The confines and chains broken

Rules laid bare, now they must not

Be erased but replaced, not just breakers

But makers please.


We are trying to escape

Oxygen because it forces us to breath.


Rest easy that we cannot be free, nor choose

Upon which world to live, only our way

Of living, finite. Not trapped by this world

But made possible through it.


The world is insane and I'm in writing therapy!

Tagged with: , , , , , , ,
Posted in Poetry

You can tell me anything (yes, even that!)

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 804 other followers

Types of stuff
This many people
  • 21,125 have dropped by
Copyright – Rule of Stupid (c)
© Rule of Stupid 2015. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rule Of Stupid and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Digital Smithy

Reading, writing and a-rhythmic tics

The Last Half

Spitting into the online ocean.

the secret's out

Deciphering my Creativity

the tao of jaklumen

the path of the sage must become the path of the hero

Bishop Eddie Tatro's Study

Wisdom from a Southern-Gentleman & Bishop

Commentality - Lotsa Comments ....

Come On In and Enjoy The Ride!

To Breathe is to Write

My World of Words

Chasing Rabbit Holes

This site is the cat’s meow and the dog's pajamas


A frustrated writer, who is her own worst enemy


Driven To Create!™


Abuse,narcissism,survival,there is hope,poetry,art,photography

In the Net! - Stories of Life and Narcissistic Survival

This is my story and I'm sticking to it!


letting it rip, my way

mobius faith imaging

person of mystery...soul dancer...quietness advocate...invisibility promoter

Knocked Over By A Feather



frightfully wondrous things happen here.


. . . down the rabbit hole


In wonder.


A broad blogs broadly on women’s & men's psychology: sex, relationships, equality

The Jiggly Bits

...because life is funny.


speaks to the masses of people not reading this blog

Fake Plastic Trees

A blog about the back of the box.


Becky says things about things and other things

Mind of a Mouse

Easily Startled, Probably Panicking

Sheila Hurst

Reading, writing, dreaming

%d bloggers like this: