Sunday, October 25, 2009

Denver

You can smell the heat here
like dog food factory
evaporated acid rain,
it rises from our skin,
our bodies dissipating
into a drug that will save us

we build buildings
from marble--
banks,
courthouses,
shopping malls,
constructing coliseums,
citadels to consumerism
we beat the raw earth
with the jackhammer,
the steel-toed boot
and the Italian leather shoes
so we can make
bastions of discrimination
where the homeless made their homes;
we have replaced
the grey wolf
with one
in an Armani suit
who carries a briefcase
and eats poor children
for dinner,

we deny this reality
as we give away table scraps,
putting a bandaid
on a wound
that will not heal
because we won't stop sucking the blood
and we're thirsty
for transfusions,
feeding a disease
that will always want more
until we quiet
the hunger in our bones
and feed the spirit

Monday, August 3, 2009

hippie

There's a tattoo
on your forehead
that says
Jesus saves
but will he save me?
I am the devil
in my blue dress
and leather shoes,
my skin a map
of woodstock,
the 80's
and following the Grateful Dead
all the way through,
my feet callused
from marching for peace,
my face
tells you stories
of peace pipes,
acid trips,
a night in jail
for disobeying a society
that cannot hold me;
you cannot tie down
someone made of the wind;
I travel
from city to city
spreading
peace,
love,
vegetarianism
and communal living,
I am the messenger
for the earth's wisdom,
a shaman
to heal humanity;
I wish to heal your soul
yet you despise me
because there's dirt on my skin
from decades
of being
what you refuse to become.
And your Jesus will not
save me;
for I am a heathen
in your eyes,
your religion
the purity drug
for which I am
the antidote;
I am not a wall you can bend
with your beliefs;
nor am I
something you can mold
like untamed wire;
accept me
and my soul;
I have been
forever society's canvass,
the artwork of the streets,
the exhalation
of tortured youth.


Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Sunday, July 26, 2009

smog

homelessness
takes in a breath,
being your refuge,
you develop your
identity
as a street corner,
a sidewalk,
a piece of tomorrow
we always savor...
you ask for salvation,
for love, joy,
spirit,
the air is your soul
and the river your home;
we find ourselves
fighting with rubberbands,
devouring
pain in an instant...
I try
and draw your face
with a ballpoint pen
and words
from the bottom of my shoe...
this is my place, too.

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

woman

There are no sins
to wash from my flesh;
I am not
the body lying next to you;
I am not
the mind you fill
with ideas;
I am not
an empty jar
for you to fill
with your paint;
you cannot progress
until you liberate me;
mankind
shall forever be held back
by the slowness of my steps
until you walk with me.
My hands are strong
from creating the world;
my feet are tough
from marching
for your liberation;
my mind wise
from demanding peace.
I am strong enough
to trust
with the future;
do not
take away my liberties
or you will fall;
for I am
your foundation.

anger

There's smoke on the horizon,
dust from the road
flies up
like crippled wind,
caught in the moment,
lingering
like dirt under your nails
we are angry
for reasons we can't define,
letting leaves fall
like broken promises,
we try and love each other,
but you don't want
to be in the wind
and I cannot
pick up stones;
I try to sing you
like a song
but there are drum notes
on the page;
you're just leftover karma,
an unfinished symphony
to create anxiety,
to torment me
and twist my mind
like a wet rag,
wringing out
all the air,
the water,
the life,
I'm so fucking confused,
I'm through with the crystal ball,
done with the rage,
fucking tired
of your accusations;

I care
and that's why I'm angry;
because I care
and you don't.

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Friday, July 10, 2009

Poetry in motion: photos of the Santa Fe Arts District



This is perhaps one of the most colorful communities I have been to. Its full of life, art, crime-- the arts district on Santa Fe in Denver, Colorado, is truly remarkable. It contains a delicate balance between the preservation of the Chicano culture and the appreciation of art. Not far from here is a large area of section-8 housing, community projects such as organic gardens and even a free build-it-yourself bike shop.


Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Foundation

We're too ignorant
any more
to be trusted with secrets;
nature has broken us
because we will not bend,
and here we are
reigned in
by the spirit,
captivated
by false dreams,
illusions
of our purpose;
we chase fairy tales,
exchanging reality
for lies on paper,
ignoring
the human condition,
likening
our antithesis
to our history,
escaping karma
like a bad middle name,
tossing morality away
with the truth;
we place our ear to the ground
to find a heartbeat,
to find our lost treasure,
but its all buried
under skyscrapers,
houses,
dynasties of failure;
we want to understand
but we can't;
for we have forgotten our feet
and now stand in space,
existing
without purpose.

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Monday, July 6, 2009

Prostitute

I am the sign on the corner
that says "open"
in red, warm letters,
my thighs are sore
from last night's paycheck
when someone came inside me
and used me
like a credit card

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

shopping mall

You can't find your place here;
its too easy to get lost
among the forest
of roads,
cars passing by
filled with people,
a river of life dries up
as industry sets in,
making way
for fields of
shopping districts
and excuses
for unhappiness;
the rearview mirror
is clouded with smoke,
ghosts
of a past never defined
by our history books,
but lived
by the brave
who live longer than their stories,
casting themselves
to the wind,
not losing their place,
but solid,
immovable as sand.

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Allergic to Wal-Mart


So my mother decided to take me and my sister out grocery shopping. We did the usual health-food store sweep, then decided to go to Wal-Mart, where my sister was determined to find better prices for the things that she needed. Being the social activist, I resolutely decided I wasn’t going to contribute to Wal-Mart’s corporate money feed, so I chose to see exactly what was so “great” about the store.

I believe I have discovered one of the many things wrong with America. Though this should come as no surprise, it is a fascinating discovery. Walking through the grocery department, I decided to find organic produce. This being a super center, it should have everything, right? I found organic spinach, and that was about it. More interesting, however, was that many of their prices on produce were higher than those of the grocery store we had just come from, some of them even 2 or 3 times as much. Along with this was my realization of the fact that this is where most of the American diet originates. Proportionately, the produce department was much smaller than the meat and dairy department, and more interestingly, the processed and boxed foods aisles comprised the majority of the grocery department. Proportionately to this, many of the customers shopping these aisles were heavyset, many of them severely overweight.

On to the clothing aisle. Walking through a Wal-Mart clothing aisle is severely depressing for anyone who has even the slightest fashion sense. Items are on cheap hangers on cheap racks, or folded in mass quantities on shelves. They look as though they came straight off the assembly line to the store; there is no personality. A quick walk through here reveals that the majority of dyes the manufacturers use is riddled with formaldehyde and other synthetic dyes. There is hardly a clothing item over $20.00, and it all looks as though it’s made to fit the plus-size people shopping the grocery aisles.

After being in Wal-Mart for 20 minutes, having had a cold for the past few days, I began to feel my symptoms worsen. My eyes started itching and my sore throat felt worse. As soon as I walked outside, I felt better. I realized that it was most likely the indoor air pollution—the overpowering fry smell from the resident McDonald’s which overpowered the produce department; the formaldehyde from the clothing department, and the overall plastic smell from the entire store. The synthetic air was just too much for me to handle.

If we wish to change America, we must change the way that we consume; we must think of the impact of our choices and work towards more responsibility and environmental stewardship.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Ignorance

There's a revolution
inside of me
that's not afraid
of the wind;
there's a strong beat
inside of me
that challenges
hurricanes;
and I banter
looking for pieces
of clay
among snowdrifts,
trying to build a world
out of earth;
for we dwell
in the mud
of our own ignorance,
constantly reaching
for a vine,
a rope,
a hand
to save ourselves
and suddenly
we realize
this mud,
this clay
is our home,
our skin
and only by setting root
in this deep river of doubt
can we produce from pain
the strength to create
a world of beauty;
only through this
can we live...
with the conviction
to lift out of ignorance
our own beings

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

A call to action

We rise,
dawn illuminating
our chosen path;
we walk
on golden sand,
emerging with
a beautiful spirit
and joyful song;
let our voices serve
as a beacon of hope
for humanity;
let our spirit become
the marrow in your bones,
let us become
the music in your veins
as we resound
with the rhythms of peace
as it flows through our blood,
giving us
freedom from suffering,
allowing happiness
to become
the power
that unites us,
and as we walk
this chosen path
we leave behind
the footprints of obstacles,
advancing
toward the sacred goal
of everlasting peace

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Thursday, July 2, 2009

White walls

There are too many
white walls
left bare in our houses,
and we put up mirrors
to remember
our own faces
set against
the backdrop
of boring white walls,
lifeless
like our bottle of pills,
like dreams
set on fire,
pain easing into us,
a welcome enemy
because we can mask it
with our Tylenol
and cheap addictions...
we can't sleep
with the taste of guilt
or anger
so we burn ourselves,
cauterizing
the flesh of the soulm
burning away
the bear trap
on our minds
that we like to call
ethics
and we let objectivism seep through
like nuclear waste
giving us
a cancer
that rattles our bones,
like a hawk
taking away our bodies;
we say death
is the end
because we're selfish
about time
like a currency
we track between nations,
so put your face
on a coin.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Bodhisattva

We emerge,
children of the sun,
the bright youth
anticipating
each new day;
we make this promise to humanity:
we shall not fail,
for we are stronger
than the warrior,
determined to defeat
whatever darkness
confronts the human spirit,
our hears
shining diamonds
that reflect
the light
of indominable hope;
for we shall not be swayed
by the currents of hatred;
nor shall we drown
in the waves of destruction;
we stand,
our cause
a solid column of stone,
unmoved
by hurricanes,
for if you move the earth,
we will rise from the ground
so as to encounter
our mission,
our passion for life
is the vehicle
that shall end
mankind's suffering.

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Human Revolution

We walk,
bearing the golden orb of humanity,
carrying on
with undefeatable strength
to complete a mission more impossible
than any battle...
we are the warriors of peace,
stripped
of our armor,
marching each day
at dawn...
every new sunrise
a day of hope
where happiness will blossom
in the life of one person
who will change the world
with a life
filled with peace

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

evolution

A handful of creation,
we exist,
nimble creatures
set on creating
paper from thought,
emerging
like words out of stone,
we are numb
to a world of criticisms,
we count minutes
and eternity
in another,
concentrating
on our subtle
differences...
the incantations
of our environment,
evolution is this way...
slow and cruel,
torturing us
with anticipation;
we need a break through,
we see a spot on the wall
and call it passion,
finding art
in an industry for youth,
manufacturing our lives
from religion,
torture,
eternity...
thoughts
on a pedestal
for us to admire
as our own
as we search
for the antithesis
of our passions
in every day life;
we groan from the pain
of tireless lovemaking
pent up
in the unrequieted
passions of the flesh,
coming to a halt
as we realize
we are human;
we stand
baffled
by the disappointment
of our shortcomings,
cursing god
and revealing
the truth

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Monday, June 29, 2009

Apathy

We can only forget
for a little while
until it hurts
and we take our pain
in tears and pills,
we're too numb
and its hard to feel
when you don't care,
we give up too soon
as we become weaker
we starve for simplicity
in a tangle of ropes
and everyone
is pulling;
we need to be free;
the youth have open sores
that need healing;
let us out of the cage,
let us fly,
let our words
change the world.

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

War

We stand here,
our emotions hand-picked
out of a box of crayolas,
we are molded metal
slowly bending itself
to become
the children of poverty,
lust,
we are the muted jewels
that can no longer
shine;
we fall slowly
like moths into a jar,
we are creatures
robbed of our peace,
our places taken
by alibies,
tears of blood
falling
into the hands
of our enemies,
our pain,
our trust,
our misfortune
being thrust
int a grab-bag
of happiness

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Idol

I watched you
and saw
all that I ever dreamed
inside of you;
the pain,
the happiness,
the sorrow...
everything I ever knew
seemed to be bound
in a single
emotion
and now
I turn the page
and forget
Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Refugee

Its restless,
the air around us,
life
is filled with confusion,
of questions
with feathers
and answers
with chains,
I want
to find my way,
but I'm scared
and
without a light,
I know who I am,
but I'm afraid of the wind,
yet free from it,
and as the currents
carry me,
I find myself
floating on a raft
of dignity,
stranded
with other refugees,
praying
for the waves
to take us to safety.

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Into the night

The air is thick here,
black velvet collecting static,
we are humbled
by technology,
replacing
a human heart
with things we can
repair;
we place beads on a string,
hoping
we don't come to an end,
that the thread won't run out,
we're uncertain
of what the future holds,
blotting out the stars
with industrial lights,
forcing us to look
to human stupidity
to answer our questions,
satisfying our appetite
for ruin;
we die,
leaving a legacy
of disaster,
letting the dawn come
after we're gone
each day darker.

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

1984

I commit thought crime,
driving passion
from a syringe
into the crux
of what I am supposed to be--
fighting materialism
for our downfall,
purchasing time
with my pen,
absorbing the heat
of a city that never sleeps,
for it draws on drugs
for entertainment,
letting the human spirit
die in the gutter;
the persistence of memory
becomes just a painting
as we deny
the reality of our lives,
we have amputated our history,
maiming our fortune
as we slander old age;
our bodies become cancerous,
and then we tie a ribbon around our disease,
pumping dollars
into a corporate machine,
but holding them on our backs,
the value of protest
coming secondary
to the dollar;
we are not free
but ignorant of our chains.
Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

A call to youth

A clock ticks by hours,
deciding fate
by the second,
we run on a path
of twisted karma
we thought we threw away,
only to dig up old bones,
pieces of our past
left behind
like miles on a road,
we run on the asphalt,
following
the little white lines,
perforating weakness
with heavy footprints;
we march into the sunrise;
taking our weapons--
our staff of hope,
the spear of light,
fighting off injustice
with wisdom

Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

Friday, June 26, 2009

The activist

I am a triangle,
a traveller
bent over an axis
of hope
stuck on a road
toward peace,
the highway of my life
like a snake
coiled around injustice,
choking off apartheid,
digesting hatred
like fate
where we've lost the thread;
I want to cut
the lifespan
of indignity,
to chop off intolerance
like an extra limb,
to leave the body of humanity
bold, naked and enlightened,
no longer mangled
by war,
nourished by peace
free to be
what it is.
Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster

carpe diem

We put bandages
over our indignity,
selling confidence
like day-old newspapers,
placing the future
in a cardboard box
only to be put
on a shelf
with the wine from our funeral
Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster