Suburban Mythology
Posted April 10th, 2010 at 11:08 PM by Xairmo
A blank verse I wrote a while ago, I hope you enjoy.
Beneath the decades of graffiti,
urban poetry lays a tale otherwise overlooked.
Of midnight debauchery and teenage shenanigans.
Not the great thinkers or future revolutionaries,
but we found the answers.
Different times, different places,
different creeds, and different faces;
we shared a dream.
Deep-seated comradery in this anonymous fraternity.
We sat upon the thrown atop the world,
peering across our kingdom and all of creation.
We are the gods of suburbia.
The Bible will neglect to mention us
and history would look the other way,
but our mark has been made.
In the midst of the glorious debris,
legends remain.
Among the empty 40s and abandoned bottle caps,
forgotten memories are remembered.
Within the discarded cans and charred cigarette butts,
heroes were born.
This is our legacy.
Beneath the decades of graffiti,
urban poetry lays a tale otherwise overlooked.
Of midnight debauchery and teenage shenanigans.
Not the great thinkers or future revolutionaries,
but we found the answers.
Different times, different places,
different creeds, and different faces;
we shared a dream.
Deep-seated comradery in this anonymous fraternity.
We sat upon the thrown atop the world,
peering across our kingdom and all of creation.
We are the gods of suburbia.
The Bible will neglect to mention us
and history would look the other way,
but our mark has been made.
In the midst of the glorious debris,
legends remain.
Among the empty 40s and abandoned bottle caps,
forgotten memories are remembered.
Within the discarded cans and charred cigarette butts,
heroes were born.
This is our legacy.
Total Comments 3
Comments
-
That's a good piece of poetry. It's sufficiently deep while retaining it's face value as well, which is really rare in some poetry. That and it's about nothing but the truth in life, which just goes to show that, no matter how small the deed, somehow, everyone touches the lives of another and does some kind of good for them at some point in their lives. n.nPosted April 11th, 2010 at 04:08 AM by Pachy 
-
Thank you, Pachy. :D
It's actually inspired by my favorite place in the world. In my town there's this place up in the hills in the rich neighbor, and there's just this hill in the middle of this secluded neighborhood where all the teenagers go to just drink and hang. As such there are empty bottles, bottle caps, empty cans, cigarette butts, grafiti, etc. And I just got this feeling of serenity and spirituality when I was up there. Of all of the countless people who have been up there over the decades, all of us of our different backgrounds and belief, we all share in this holy sanctuary and leave behind our stories.Posted April 11th, 2010 at 08:57 AM by Xairmo
-
I can definitely feel that sentiment coming through in this poem, and a well written poem it is too, I must say. Very, how you say? . . . thought-provoking. I feel like I need a place like this, too. Kudos, my man, kudos.Posted April 11th, 2010 at 11:24 AM by Misheard Whisper
