This is the collaborative journal of W.C. Chambers and J.R. Bowman. Read. Wonder. Reply. Thanks for stopping by.
Friday, November 04, 2005,3:45 PM
We are the Poets of Man
Men we are and men we’ll be. We speak of life, freedom, nightmares, dreamscapes, tired eyes, winds of change, tragedies of the heart, terrors of the thoughtful mind, screams of wrongs we’ve witnessed, things of goodness and troubles of hard times. We witness within the world the things that others may wish to forget. We tell the stories of faces we’ve never seen, tales never told. We rub the nose of the world in the shit that is left lying around for the future generations to step into blindly.
We hold nothing back, and we take no prisoners. There is no way for you to join our numbers. You’re either one of us or you’re not. We cannot decide whether or not you will be heard. We do not even know if we ourselves are ever truly heard. Yes, we speak of riddles in riddles, we tell not our mind’s eye to the truth that you seek. We tell it to those with eyes enough to understand and ears enough to listen. Mumbling, yes, we do a lot of that. We talk to ourselves and listen in our cryptic heads to tongues which before remained unheard. I tell you this now so that you may grasp even a hint of why we as men do what we do and say what we say nothing is easy when you speak the truth as truth but wish for it to be a secret in the end.
Men are poets when they speak of hearts and listen to the cries of the world and then take it upon themselves to continue to tell these tales over and over again until eventually we all find what we want amongst the words of thousands of men who are speaking and searching in unison for one thing to be know. We tell our stories and repeat ourselves quite often. But know this not everyone understands one message. We must tell the story more then once until eventually the whole world knows of what we speak. So now it should come to know surprise that we tell the same basic stories over and over. And please do not confuse what I mean and what Hollywood does as being the same thing for we send a message they’re just in it for the money and that’s not what this is about.
This is about telling the world of itself, of it’s heart, it’s soul, it’s love, it’s thirst for freedom, it’s desire, it’s liberty, it’s want, it’s longing, it’s will to speak, it’s amorous, it’s conviction to the human spirit, it’s justice, it’s confusion, it’s underbelly, it’s sickness, it’s disease, and it’s ever constant cry for a listener. We are but men and we just want to let our spirits known in the hopes of setting another free.
We hold nothing back, and we take no prisoners. There is no way for you to join our numbers. You’re either one of us or you’re not. We cannot decide whether or not you will be heard. We do not even know if we ourselves are ever truly heard. Yes, we speak of riddles in riddles, we tell not our mind’s eye to the truth that you seek. We tell it to those with eyes enough to understand and ears enough to listen. Mumbling, yes, we do a lot of that. We talk to ourselves and listen in our cryptic heads to tongues which before remained unheard. I tell you this now so that you may grasp even a hint of why we as men do what we do and say what we say nothing is easy when you speak the truth as truth but wish for it to be a secret in the end.
Men are poets when they speak of hearts and listen to the cries of the world and then take it upon themselves to continue to tell these tales over and over again until eventually we all find what we want amongst the words of thousands of men who are speaking and searching in unison for one thing to be know. We tell our stories and repeat ourselves quite often. But know this not everyone understands one message. We must tell the story more then once until eventually the whole world knows of what we speak. So now it should come to know surprise that we tell the same basic stories over and over. And please do not confuse what I mean and what Hollywood does as being the same thing for we send a message they’re just in it for the money and that’s not what this is about.
This is about telling the world of itself, of it’s heart, it’s soul, it’s love, it’s thirst for freedom, it’s desire, it’s liberty, it’s want, it’s longing, it’s will to speak, it’s amorous, it’s conviction to the human spirit, it’s justice, it’s confusion, it’s underbelly, it’s sickness, it’s disease, and it’s ever constant cry for a listener. We are but men and we just want to let our spirits known in the hopes of setting another free.
