A Poet’s Slam



I can not be a poet

because I don’t have spikey hair,

I try to use good English,

and try to never swear.

I don’t have, face piercings,

or gesticulate like mad,

and I am proud to say

I loved my mum and dad.


do accept that many things

in this world just are not right,

and hope my words will make things better,

well who knows, they just might.

I do not wear black leggings

or have tattoos up every arm

nor staring eyes or speak with haste,

nor with great alarm.


I try not to shock those,

who come to hear me speak,

in fact I suppose,

I can come over rather meek.

But passion is my business

and words are the weapon of my choice,

and I try to put, the right inflection, in my voice.


I like to leave you wondering,

and asking again just why,

is there so much injustice,

why children have to die.

Why peace and love can not conquer

and why war must always win

and why oh why in this world, 

is there so much sin.


I can not be a poet ,

or perhaps, then again I may,

if you decide you wish to hear

the wordsI have to say.


© david holmes 2011




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