Thursday, May 12, 2016

Michael D. Grover- Three Poems

Michael D. Grover is a Florida born Poet that currently resides in The Old West End of Toledo, Ohio trying to get as far north as he can. Michael has been publishing and performing Poetry for nearly twenty years and has been published all over the World. Michael published many of the best underground Poets in the country while he ran Covert Press. He has published over a dozen chapbooks over the years. Michael is the current Head Poetry Editor at Red Fez. In 2015 Michael published his first novel Lockewood/The Wolves Of Lockewood. He is soon to publish his next novel Heavy Metal.


A peaceful silence reigns here
A peaceful silence
Traffic & trains droning in the distance
Dog lays peacefully beside me
Waiting for me to write
Peaceful birdsong fills the air
Peaceful trees stand like sticks in blue sky
Early Spring singing resurrection

National Poetry Month

It's April & I don't want to
Write about Poetry until it's over
But the truth is I worry about its future
What future is there for Poetry
When people don't read
Poems become bland general rants, nothing to back them up
Spoke in perfect cadence street preacher
Or maybe cheap reaction

I'm not worried about Poetry
Poetry has survived hard, dark times
Poetry always survives
Go ahead, drop an atomic bomb
Make everything flat & dead
Poetry will survive
There just might not be anyone left to read it

Poets have died so Poetry may survive
Their blood spilled
From the poisoned blood of Neruda
To the L.A. street Poet Steve Barrata
& everything in between
Oh, Poets bleed
Blood spilled on a page or stage
All to preserve Poetry
So don't you tell me that Poetry's got a problem
If you do Poetry probably has a problem with you
We have the technology
We have the technology
I'd rather read the un-pixelated version
We have the technology
We can watch videos of Poetry on you tube
We have the technology
Who needs to read anything
We have the technology
You could vaporize the World with your for profit war culture
& what good would it do
As somewhere on another planet
Some alien writes something down
Shall you vaporize alien civilizations because they might write Poetry
You can't kill Poetry
You can dumb down culture
You can dumb down Poetry
Slick & hip like a new pair of jeans
Ready for performance
Smooth talkin', sayin' nothin'
But as the ad executive said
Image is everything
You can't stop the truth from speaking out
You can kill me, there is someone waiting behind me
Because his-story has taught us one thing
It is written by the winners, not the Poets

Confessions Of An American Outlaw #473
(Transmissions For Amiri Baraka #7)

Listening to some Poets lately
I'm thinkin' these are dangerous times
The man was always up to something
You would always tell it like it is
People would call your Poetry angry
You would forever be known as that angry guy
I never saw it

They tried to take away your life's work
They made it a holy war
They could not take a thing from you

I was living in Philly
Some stuffy jewish law student mother fucker
Would get in my face every day
Because he knew you were my favorite Poet
Telling me how they were going to run you out of your Poet Laureate roll
He wanted to crush you, I could see the hate in his eyes
He didn't even know you, he knew what he was told
He probably never even read the Poem
When it was all over, & you were out, he joked about it
Said when he was elected governor
He would appoint me as Poet Laureate
I told him Don't you ever do that

I feel like the World misses you
But you are still here in spirit
You were the one that taught me
It was okay to speak out
In fact it is necessary 

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