When I was looking through my poetry portfolio, I realized how much of it was forced eloquence. Most of my poems were wordy and sounded puffed up like they were trying to impress someone. And perhaps the worst part about them was that I couldn't even hear my own voice in the writing.
Originally, I had thought these poems were some of my best. When I wrote them, I thought they were graceful. I thought they sounded how poetry was supposed to sound. But then it hit me: there is no "supposed to" in poetry. There is either your voice, or a mess of random words. You can either use writing as an expression of your truth, or you use writing to pretend to be someone else.
I wanted to be me, one hundred percent, authentic me. So, instead of picking the poems that had any ounce of eloquence, I picked the three poems that I had written not to impress anyone, but just for myself. I stood in front of the audience, terrified, because I was opening myself up to a crowd of people, some of whom I didn't even know. I was showing them what was inside of me, what was stirring in my heart and my soul. I stood in front of that crowd, completely vulnerable, completely exposed. But, I have never felt so free as I did when I had every single eye on me that night, and every single ear listening to my truth.
The first poem I read was called "Jesus in Disguise" and was inspired by Matthew 25:37-40,
37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
In my life, I have witnessed a lot of hypocrisy. Many times, I have been a hypocrite myself. But whenever I read this bible verse, I experience a slap in the face, a wake-up call. It makes me think about what it truly means to love and our responsibility to care for others in the world. I know that many people will not agree with my interpretation of this verse, but I would like to share my poem anyway so that, if nothing else, you can see my point of view and then draw your own conclusions.
I still don't think I am a poet, but my goal is not to become one. My goal is to be authentic and truthful in my experience every day that I live.
Jesus In Disguise
By Alexandra Warwick
Have you found Jesus?
I have.
He’s right there.
Do you see that homeless man you walk past in disgust every day
whose putrid feet stick out of an ancient pair of tattered brown leather shoes?
The homeless man, right there
who you don’t love?
Do you see Him?
That’s Jesus.
Have you found Jesus?
I have.
He’s right there.
Do you see that woman with an elegant blue hijab on her head
smiling sweetly to herself while you carefully avoid her eyes?
The woman with the hijab, right there
who you don’t love?
Do you see Her?
That’s Jesus.
Have you found Jesus?
I have.
He’s right there.
Do you see that homosexual waving a brilliant rainbow flag at the pride parade
whom you have never spoken to or bothered to understand,
yet took the liberty to condemn to hell?
The homosexual, right there
who you don’t love?
Do you see Him?
That’s Jesus.
Have you found Jesus?
I have.
He’s right there.
Do you see that beautiful, bright-eyed girl,
whose feet wouldn’t even reach the pedals of a car
selling her body on the street?
The prostitute, right there
who you don’t love?
Do you see Her?
That’s Jesus.
Do you see how exquisitely imperfect He seems?
Do you see how exquisitely imperfect you are?
Have you found Jesus?
I have.
He’s right there.
Right in the spot where you turned your back.
This is phenomenal poetry. I have always admired your ability to write poetry as you feel it instead of cramming it into a set of rules. There is no way a person as big as you are could fit into a set of rules and I think you are wise not to try. You have expressed yourself beautifully and made me cry. Love!
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