“Call Me Not Future”

img_20161005_121235It’s been decades since I was born,
And at birth I was called the future.
I smiled amidst confusion, because I knew not what they meant.
But with my ears, I heard them call me messiah.

Then at thirteen, as a teen,
They looked upon me yet again,
They called me the future,
In ignorance I smiled,
Awaiting the future when ‘teen’ no
longer accompanied my age,
And the tag waiter hung no more to my neck.

I’ve heard it in songs I gladly sang,
I’ve seen it in dances I willingly offered,
But forgive me if I no longer wish to be addressed as her.
This has been the blind,
Blind blinding me from seeing your many schemes,
Schemes set at keeping my mind blind,
Glued, cocooned to this spot -here, waiting.

So forgive me if I purge myself of
all the pills I once swallowed,
So I’d be awake when my
future eventually comes

I am no future,
So in advance, forgive me when I shove
the words down your bloated throat,
Every time you look upon
me, the now, calling me future.

Forgive my rough riding arrogance,
When I look upon you with
hate piled high into the sky
Dishing out a resounding ‘no’,
When you come, hawking your lies yet again.

Ah, you sold me lies!
And oh, what a fool I was,
I freely bought!

Forgive me if I leave my present in the past,
Forgive me if I head home to where
I rightly belong
-the future.

I am not the future, he is blind.

My eyes once saw into the
past where you were the
present future.
A place where you swore to never grow old,
And where I’d never grow up.

I am not the future, though I once was,
But now I see my wrong and right it, I must.

I am not the future,
I am the messiah you’ve expected.
So bother not about rolling out
carpets and rugs,
For I’d rather roll in the mud, where
I’d be in touch with nature.
And not sit on glasses in glass houses,
Un-scorched by the pangs of the sun.

I am not the future,
So forgive my stiff neck in advance if you will,
For I refuse to be who you say I am.

The future is here,
I am here, and together we shall reign