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Andrea Gibson, performing in Longmont, CO.
About Button:
Button Poetry is committed to developing a coherent and effective system of production, distribution, promotion and fundraising for spoken word and performance poetry.
We seek to showcase the power and diversity of voices in our community. By encouraging and broadcasting the best and brightest performance poets of today, we hope to broaden poetry’s audience, to expand its reach and develop a greater level of cultural appreciation for the art form.
Eli came back from a rock and tattooed a Teddy bear onto the inside of his wrist Above that a medic with an iv bag above That an angel but eli says The teddy bear won't live And i know i don't know but i say i know Because eli is only 24 and i have never Seen eyes further away from childhood Than his as old with the wisdom he knows I would rather not have Eli's mother traces a teddy bear under The inside of my arm and says not all Casualties come home in body bags and i Swear I would spend the rest of my life Writing nothing but the word light at The end of this tunnel if i could find The tunnel i would write nothing but White flags somebody pray for the Soldiers Somebody pray for what's lost somebody Pray for the mailbox that holds the Official letters to the fathers mothers Sisters and little brothers of michael 19 stephen 21 john 33 how ironic that Their deaths sound like bible verses the Hearse is parked in the halls of the High school recruiting black brown and Portable anti-war activists outside Walter reed army hospital scream 100 000 Slain As an amputee on the third floor breeze Forget-me-nots onto the window pane But how can we forget what we never knew
Our sky Is so perfectly blue it's repulsive Somebody tell me where god lives because If god is truth god doesn't live here Our lives have seared the sun too hut to Live by there were ghosts of kids who Are still alive touting m16s with Trembling hands while we dream ourselves Stars on survivor another missile sets Fire to the face and the locket of a Mother whose son needed money for College and she swears she can feel his Photograph burn How many wars will it take us to learn That only the dead return the rest Remain forever caught between worlds of Shrapnel shutters body of three-year-old Girl to welcome to mcdonald's can i take Your order the mortar of sanity Crumbling stumbling back home to a home That will never be home again eli Doesn't know if he can ever write a poem Again one-third of the homeless men in This country Are veterans And we have the nerve to support our Troops with pretty yellow ribbons while Giving nothing but dirty looks to their Outstretched hands tell me what land of The free sets free its 18 year old kids Into greedy war zones hones them like Missiles then returns their bones in the Middle of the night so no one Can see each death swept beneath the
Carpet and hidden like dirt each life a Promise we never kept Jeff lucy came back from a rock and hung Himself in his parents basement with a Garden hose the night before he died he Spent 45 minutes on his father's lap Rocking like a baby rocking like daddy Save me and don't think for a minute he Too is in collateral damage in the Mansions of watching washington they are Watching them burn and hoarding the Water no senators sons are being sent Out to slaughter no presidents daughters Are licking ashes from their lips or Dreaming up ropes to wrap around their Necks in case they ever make it home Alive our eyes are closed america There were souls in the boots of the Soldiers america forget your yellow Ribbon you want to support our troops Bring them home And then hold them tight When they get here
