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