my final poem...out of place on the blog.

This is the last poem i ever write

Because i cant even remember my own words over the numbers repeating

9.2

9.7

9.3

5.3

8.1

See the slam runs my mind more often than the similes

and in the modern world it is more about the points then about the poetry

but something doesn’t add up y’all

See i get up here, bare my soul for you to poke and prod at

and i even let you judge how well my hand translated the memories

but all i can think is

i got that really annoying sweaty translator

who did this as a summer job and doesn’t speak the language very well

see my hands are already shaking and i am not even half way down this paper

and that single bead of sweat rolling down my face but if i wipe it away

i lose the audience

so i let it slide down even though it bothers me

so much

but what do i care?

this is the last poem i ever write

so you know what?

THERE

and another thing, if i am going out

i may as well go out strong. loud booming voice, not a timid one hiding behind a mic

like a kid not ready to share his toys with his “friends”

i think that is what i hate most about slams

it reminds me of being that awkward kid on the playground

hide from the bullies and the teachers telling you to suck it up

you feel alone,

see i have been interviewed and questioned 4 times about what poetry means to me

and every time i say family and freedom

then i guess slams, are the battlegrounds and poetry becomes a new type of linguistic warfare

so i may as well drop a few “F” bombs to impress the war generals

but when dropping them so senselessly,

it becomes redundant

so more often than not, i like to stay silent

see slams bring out that evil side of me

where i would rather pull myself up on top to win

than lend a hand to a friend who is falling down

slams taught me a lesson

i learned it this past Saturday when i went to a role model that i look up to and talked and asked for help with practice,

and she said “we are rivals now, we should work separate”

slams are the fracture that doesn’t heal quite right

so you constantly get those muscle pains

and you walk like someone hit you in the gut

because it sure feels that way

but i am used to it

i am sick of it

And another thing,

since this is my last poem ever,

i want to go on the record as saying

“I AM NOT A CHILD”

do not judge me differently because of my age

i started writing in 7th grade,

but that doesn’t mean that you should see me as younger, because i am the same age as many of the adult writers today when they started spitting

so please, one more “but you’re so young”

and i may show you what the underside of a chair feels like

if i seem angry

or upset

i apologize

but i needed to summarize to get these lines down

because after this

i quit

no more

this my last poem ever

i am the childrens book of poetry

because Ian had a terrible no good very bad day

in the world of slams

so i am done

like a stoner, i used to inject myself with emotion to turn my blood into ink and write my life into a poem

mix my nightmares with my memories and write pieces that would let you see the monsters that inhabit my ever swirling head

so i ask them to quickly fuel my mind so i can crank out another poem

because i need some new shit to get some good scores

but now i would like to tell everyone that

since this is my last poem,

i had a checklist

see i had my last poetic meal

i gobbled down metaphors

and similes like i had never tried them before

but they didn’t sit right with me

so took 2 tums and let my meal write my obituary

but i wanted one request

see judges,

i want you to look at me

and read my lips when i say “ i don’t want you to let me through unless i earn it, and i want you to know, that from now on, my pieces will be like whose line is it anyways”

because the points don’t matter

it is the poetry that counts

and it is likely you will give me a score high enough to keep me wanting more

but low enough to not let me pass

keep me coming back like a poetry addict

so give me a 1

because i am done

and i know you couldn’t care less about what this all means

but i want to take this time to apologize because this, will be my last poem ever