SEE TIMOTHY IN ACTION: GREAT FUN VIDEO. TIMOTHY IS KIND OF FAMOUS IN IDAHO:
http://kboi2.com/news/local/workers-deal-with-triple-digit-heat
Timothy Hicks is a young man from Idaho that I had the pleasure of meeting several years ago here on Soup. He went away, but now that he has returned, I have learned even more about him and I wanted to share some of it with you. The other day, Timothy gave me a link to a news story that had featured him. Actually he is the main star of the news story! I was very impressed, and to see him hopping around in that video, I thought what a special guy we have in our midst who motivates and inspires not just with his poetry, but with his everyday actions at his job and surely among his friends and family.
If you don't know Timothy, here is a little more information. Timothy is also a self-taught pianist who writes his own songs though he cannot read music. Furthermore, he is a wizard in the art of origami. Who would have guessed it? I have not tracked down examples of his work, but if you have him on FB, he tells me you can see examples of his work there.
Timothy is headed for Georgia where his brother has already gone and settled down with a family of his own. In Georgia, Timothy will try to find work as a vendor again. After you see a glimpse of his popularity in the video, you will see that he should have no problem getting a job at another baseball stadium!
Of course, the best thing about Timothy for us here at Soup is that he brings a brand of poetry that is not just well-written, but also touches one's spirit. I feel that he is extraordinarly talented in free verse, something I can greatly respect since this is not such an easy form for me. That is just one reason I admire his work so much. Lately, I have noticed that he has the same flair for free verse as another favorite Soup poet of mine, Armand. Both Armand and Timothy have a very unique style. They employ unusual imagry, but at the same time, their poetry is not difficult to understand (I find many free verse poets today use a language that is overly intellectual and not always appealing to the general masses). I don't find this in Timothy's work. His poetry resonates with a love for humanity, and I think this is what touches the hearts of those who love his work. For his innovative and lucid style of writing, he is one of my favorites of the male poets at PoetrySoup. I hope you will take the time to read these examples of his work that I told him I would be showing here today. And please check out the video above. It's a short one and an AWESOME look at a really sweet and zany guy!
Blood Of Your Passion
He's staring off into oblivion;
dead-lights, who of their own free will choose to illuminate
the gray matter microwave that is TV:
too vain, too vulgar. Thought Vanquisher,
brought to you by your friendly-facade-keepers:
the politicians pussyfooting on a pedestal
built of an uninformed (yet united) public -
whose belief in "connection" is in reference
to a wall socket. Not love. Not kindness.
Who unwittingly become hamsters on a wheel,
convinced of stars held in our pockets; while promises of prosperity
dangle on a string. Like Maya's caged bird we sing
- but not of freedom - to sing of that would be akin
to declaring the sun has risen in the east. Freedom is a given,
at least that's the belief that's bandied about.
There's a boldface lie in that belief . . staring us in the face.
Are we too ignorant to see or too coddled to care?
Organic antenna, playing a fuzzy station;
our loved one's voice like a pesky fly -
six-legged silhouette on precious phones.
Halfhearted hmms-and-yeahs exuding from lazy lips. A lone
wolf, misunderstood youth - the euphemisms of today,
tomorrow's regrets. The diarrhea of words floating
in cyberspace; ricocheting off planets, but never touching earth.
The constipation of passion - nonchalant bloodbath of values -
no one strong enough to carry the hearse. We'll have to work
together - in unity redirected - to carry the load of our ancestor's past.
We descendants who reap the aftermath; let's carry on and forgo the calm.
Complacency is no destiny to pursue; crack the bottle against the bow,
that ship has sailed. Let us dabble in truth, instead of sugarcoat lies;
deception maybe be sweet, but give it time, it'll go straight to your thighs.
Embrace controversy with a bear hug, and give tyranny a timeout.
And should our words sharpen swords instead of mold minds,
may the massacre be only metaphorical - and the white flag of truce
be mistaken for a canvas - painted with the blood of your passion.
Tangible
What things does one possess
at journey's end?
What bits and bobs? What trivial tripe?
Please, do tell, what is the hype?
For should I recall anything at all
of trinkets obtained in memory's shawl,
it would be the warmth of a companion's smile;
his hand in mine, while on this earth for a while.
The tickle of a tide brushing against tiny toes,
while the whisper in the wind, tells me all she knows.
Should I gaze at gems, pearls, rubies, emeralds--
Forsake the wisdom of the solid for the beauty of the temporal?
Should I throw caution to the wind, like seeds for the birds,
or stick to what I know - the solemnity of the written word.
Of trinkets obtained in memory's shawl,
be there anything at all worthy of my recall?
Happiness, Peace, Love and Joy -
these remained to be my one and only lot.
These intangible things more valuable by far
than gold and silver ingots.
At journey's end I stopped to ponder,
in the cloudless starlit night,
about the heavens and her wonder;
I was struck by sudden insight:
the lightness of the moon
suspended in air,
and the weight of a mere thought
that put it there.
(Finally this short clever one that I LOVE)
Jealous Beast
When it comes to the vacuum cleaner
my dog is a jealous beast,
showing off his fangs and claws.
Does he not know that I'd feed
my Oreck less if he, now and then, but
wiped his paws?