Today’s activity by napowrimo.net was to write a poem that is supposed to be a humorous rant.
I don’t know how humorous this is, but this poem definitely turned into a rant. I got carried away writing it, and you might realize that you can relate to this poem a lot more than you think. While you’re at it, make sure you go check out my amazing best friends’ blogs (Kittu’s Modern Mixtape and Amour Infini) for more brilliant poetry!
Happy reading, and don’t miss out on the endnotes for more! Xx
Try looking at the world through a pair of rose-coloured glasses,
And all you’ll find is people coming after you,
Grumbling about scams and conspiracies and other bullshit,
Their mind-numbing cynicism in tow
And hammers to shatter your windows with—
‘It’s the only way you’ll open your eyes,’ they say,
As though I ever expressed any pleasure in that,
‘Your dreams are impractical!’
There’s a reason they’re called dreams, dumbass!
How boring your life must be,
If all you’re worried about is the world somebody else sees,
No, I’m really curious,
So, if you don’t mind, educate me
On why my windows to the world bring you discomfort—
Why it bothers you that my clouds are made of cotton candy;
Are you usually such a delight to talk to?
Or does being this person bring you joy?
Well, whatever it is, I hope you work it through,
I share no joy in your dull greys, LMFAO, BYE!
It’s funny you assume I know nothing,
That my heart is in the right place, but my mind isn’t—
Don’t you ever get weary of it?
What high must you get out of tattered dreams,
When you know I’ll make a verse out of it?
And how impressive you must seem
To the likes of you who can never dream;
I only pity you for all that you’re unable to perceive.
So go ahead and get your kicks, I guess,
I could give a damn about your conspiracy theories!
Try voicing your opinions to the world and watch
As pitchforks and stones come pelting through,
I swear, not a single day goes by in peace,
They’re always looking for something you did or didn’t do—
It’s flattering to me, in a way, I suppose,
That some might rather spend their day thinking of me,
But why would you, unless I’ve personally offended somehow,
Why are you so obsessed with me?
I mean, I really am flattered,
But stop, it’s getting kinda’ creepy!
Keep digging and maybe you’ll find that dirt you want,
But I’m not the one that is muddy here;
It must be nice, being the life of the party
When all you are is just a killjoy and cynic,
You could douse out all the fires, but the sun still burns,
So how would you deny the light that exists?
As for my dreams and my words,
They had nothing to do with you, to begin with,
So tell me why it irks you so when I dream,
Is it because you just can’t picture it?
It was never meant for you,
Perhaps this will teach you a lesson long overdue,
One that will let you drill into your thick skull
That the world wouldn’t be where it stands
If it wasn’t for us,
Perhaps you still assume I know nothing,
You ask me to grow up and treat me like a kid,
As though I haven’t seen the world outside yet,
As though you know more about it,
When you keep stumbling around
In the same old tattered boots,
Picking fights with everyone that once meant something to you,
As though my opinions don’t deserve to be loud,
Well, you still get to be loud,
The next time you try to silence me,
I’ll write verses that speak louder than I ever will,
Keep assuming I know nothing,
And you and I can have a little chat in Hell.
Don’t come for my dreams, don’t come for my peace,
And stay in your own damn lane,
If you keep assuming I know nothing,
I can’t promise to be silent again.
I won’t be silent again.
~© Shubhangi Srinivasan.
This poem is very personal to me. It is about the kind of things people who are from a more creative background have to hear in their lives. There is just so much going on in the world and our way of looking at the world, through art, is just a coping mechanism that we find ourselves escaping to, in order to stay sane. It’s pretty disheartening when people try to break your bubble of peace by calling it ‘impractical’ as if the whole reason isn’t to find peace in it, in the first place. Here’s to all the dreamers out there, never give up. No matter what others have to say about it. Your voice is your own and nobody gets to take that away from you. I hope you liked reading this poem.
The Shubhster. Xx