In our Countercultures class we were told to write a shout out poem to whoever or whatever we wanted. The purpose of writing this poem was to express invocation and feeling towards whatever causes we wanted to adress. I had a really hard time writing this poem at first because I was focusing too much on the words that rhymed, and not enough on the rhythm or the message the poem was sending. Once I had finished my draft I went back and re-worked a lot of it, cutting sentences and and stanzas that didn’t fit or sound right, re-reading it over and over again until finally I was happy with it. Below is the final draft of my shout out poem.

BR Invocation/Shout-Out Poem from GCE on Vimeo.

Broken and Then Put Together by BR

Here is to the broken.
The bikes that can’t be fixed,
People who get made fun of for being mixed,
To the children who are ten, but want to be twenty-six,

Here is to the broken.
The old ladies whose shaking hands can’t knit,
The household wives that get hit,
The drummers who have stopped their drumming,
To the people who keep running,
And the nightmares that keep coming,
Because they don’t know how to face the monsters IN. THEIR. DREAMS.

Here is to the broken.
The freaks who feel ashamed,
The innocent who get blamed,
The teenagers called “lame.”

For the butterfly with one wing,
Struggling to fly.

Here is to the puzzle piece that cannot find it’s right fit,
And the person who is about to give up,
But doesn’t.

Here is to the whole.
The fighters,
The babies who are biters,
To the brave who are igniters,
We need those humans that start great fires,
Because the flame MUST. CATCH. SOMEHOW.

Here is to the whole.
The non-stop believers
The dreamers,
To the kindergarten class full of beamers,
The college kids who call their parents on the phone,
The lucky one who wins the wishbone.
To the lonely ones who figure out they aren’t really alone.
Because we are NEVER. REALLY. ALONE.

Here is to the whole.
The ones who get back up after they fall,
The trees that grow tall.
For the go-getters,
The boys and girls who know better,
To handwritten letters.


You open the box, the pieces spill out,

Sort them,

First the corners,

Then the colors,

And last the sides.

Every piece has a purpose.