December 9, 2020 ·
1 min read ·

I am not here to float,

To casually coast
Down the river of
Sweet candy dreams –
No substance
And meaningless utterance
Is not my scene.
I am here to build.
Build brick by brick
Stone by stone -not a home
But a fountain.
A fountain that shoots our water ideas
Clear past the mountain summit
Surrounded by clouds designed
to prevent the plummet
Of all that I (no, we) have built.
Us and we.
You and me
Are creators, you see.
Blooming ideas like a field of sunflowers
-following all that is golden and warm.
Weathering every storm
we bloom better and brighter
After the onslaught of a torrential downpour .
Our great fertilizer – pressure
Is by which we measure
Ourselves against that which we have conceived
Of us and we. Ideas retrieved
not from a T.V show or magazine
But of radical and original ideas pure and clean
That mean the two of us don’t stand one step above the other
On a staircase made of traditions that make me shudder
no , we stand free of clutter
Eye to eye, pure and tougher .
For the water of our ideas rinsed the dirt
And scrubbed the poison
Allowing us to make choices in
Just how far reaching our water would be over the summit
Of the mountain
From the fountain that we laid brick by brick
Sure and thick because
When I build, I build with a permanence
that can withstand the turbulence
From the insurgency that
Us and we can bring –
And sometimes that may sting.

– E.A.P

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