By Daniel Paiz
Sometimes there are some words that need to be put out that are not part of the NaPoWriMo series. It’s a 2021 poetry piece, a standalone if you will. No sequels or prequels, no connected universe or world-building franchise. Just one bit of writing that’s by itself. Writing can be a cathartic thing, and in this case it’s more of a shaking off the dust and getting back to something helpful.
All the inner turmoil,
Vesuvius cliché pressure flow,
You already know though.
This isn’t a cry for help
but an airing of grievances,
wrong time of the year but
It’s now Festivus season,
all about that throwback nostalgia,
prepped you for the next line,
Audience I’m not your fah-ja,
What’s next after 30 years under the sun?
All that turmoil at this age?
For that I’m supposedly way too young,
Yeah this was supposed to stop,
at 18, then 21
but after 25 and 30, it seems
an extended run
This airing of grievances
brings about a conundrum,
rehash the stumbling blocks,
or construct them into steps
to get to the next rung,
I can’t always be about that firefighter life,
extinguishing flames for other folks,
meanwhile sitting back on their saved rooftops,
watching my own towering inferno
I’d ask for much needed precipitation,
but it’s already zoned out,
as Fiasco has mentioned before,
this area is off-limits just like certain pizza routes.
Remember this moment in time,
Everybody has some turmoil
Prior to breakin’ out a crooked smile
at such inner lacking soil.