I HATE slam poetry, so here's a slam poem! Enjoy!
A Statue Called “Alone”By Adam Gonzales
Do you remember when we walked hand in hand to that beautiful fountain
where the statue of the nameless man stood with a sullen face?
We tossed some pennies into the rusty water and smile at our perfect reflections
It is not lost on me—the whisper of something greater that you once spoke of
That wonderful vision of adventure and song that would surely keep us together through “thick and thin”, as it were
I guess maybe I was too stubborn to realize that the dance you were trying to teach me was pointless
I CAN’T dance, and life would be a horrible dance to watch, regardless
And as I walk you back to that ugly fountain, I laugh when I realize why it feels so wrong
I sat in one place while you simply tried to zip on by as if it were all some sort of roller coaster
If life were a roller coaster there’d be a lot more laughing and smiling
Rather than this bitter pit of emptiness that is eating away at my pulsing innards
Right…now….
And maybe if I listened rather than heard, I would understand why you are letting go
Why you are digging your nails into my hands as we speak
And to think that I had the opportunity to be alone and content in a self-inflicted internal infusion of insistent isolation
But as I finally listen, the only voices and words I hear are in my head saying
“Why is he here,” “Why won’t he leave,”
“Why…can’t…he…just…see…”
And it breaks my heart
Just like you break that precious string of hope you strung
The one you ruthlessly ripped with restless relentlessness
A stupid struggle sparked by a simple suggestion
But that bond, that cord, that link that you severed so suddenly
Pours out an endless stream of steaming blood—
Blood that cannot be given back
The trickle of heated fluid settles into a small pool at our feet
And once again we see our reflections in a glossy glass lake of red liquid
But this time we wear frowns instead of the smiles we so foolishly masked ourselves with
And the only sense of hope and resolution I feel is oblique
Made obsolete by that faint flare of fiery indignation that you so shockingly bestowed upon me
So now I sit at the edge of the forgotten statue pondering on why the tourists blow their bubbles of gum so gaily
While their hopes and dreams are tossed away into such a sickening fountain
The pennies’ red rust swirls as each wish is swallowed into a vortex of nothingness
Maybe if they would look up at the statue they would know it was all for naught
Because to throw away hope in a red pool found at the feet of a nameless face is to throw away life itself
And we’ve already agreed that life is a terrible dance to watch
So as you walk away to leave me alone I realize that I never knew what that meant before
Too absorbed with myself to have time for others and to feel ANYTHING at all
But as you leave
As you TAKE your leave
I get it…and I feel it
For after all that IS the statue’s name...
...Alone
Why is it that when the Sun goes down
