This so-called super hero
Does not leap, scale, or smash
Tall buildings in single anythings.
He’s not a savior from a lost planet
Or a victim of radiation exposure,
Through bite or blast.
He’s a mere mortal from the mountaintop
Who arrived after a King fell
To continue his people’s dream.
He flexes his powers of mind
To bend the bars of foreign foes
And escort the imprisoned home.
He outshouts cries of injustice
With microphone and media.
No costume or cape necessary.
He champions causes lost on purpose.
He screams when silence is golden.
He is human.
2 comments:
I was working on something else over the weekend but I'm stuck so here's the consolation. Enjoy.
So at first I was thinking televangelist, but this is totally Jesse Jackson. I like that the King line, to me, works in two ways (Dr. King and stupid LeBron), and maybe I am reading way too much into it, but think about the juxtaposition of those two figure. One is a genius and a pioneer, one is an overinflated douchebag who still has no rings. I like the last stanza a lot. and the last line in particular is poignant and simple. This is an intricate poem to me, as I seem to go in new directions after each reading.
Post a Comment