The Works of Cameron McKenzie 

Cameron Mckenzie is a young poet from Gainesville, FL. He has slammed his poems at a handful of small venues and is noted for his high-energy, beat-like performances.


All Poems © Cameron Mckenzie


Dig IT


This world is spiraling into chaos,


Driven downwards while hatred floods the hearts of men


Blinding them, confining them to a comfortable place surrounded by walls built in the hallways of their lives,


There is but one door that leads out of their fortress of fear


Covered in 1000 locks, behind it they reside shunning opportunity, loved ones, and new people, through a scrutinizing eye they gaze through a peephole


But yo peep this, while Jo Schmo hides


Behind his door unable to think outside of the box,


His fellow man that doesn’t live in the box is dying round the world underfed and under fire


You can’t say they dropped like flies


You have to say the flies are dropping like men


Cause you see in a world as such the flies’ gota better chance to survive.


What are you, you are what I am and what we are is the same thing,


Fools, fallible, flawed, we are human.


Top of the food chain, yet we still are the stupidest species on this cosmic orbiting chunk.


So you won’t pick him up in a cab because he looks different,


Or let him in the bar because he does not have the same sexual preference,


Or give her a job because she isn’t the same gender, your loss mate.


You are made less because of that close-minded decision, that ignorant choice, that prehistoric mindset.


Wake up and smell the futility of your actions Joe,


These men and women don’t become weak due to your idiocy,


You see they will as long as this continues, have to overcome and surpass, such things growing stronger,


While you grow weak, less and less a man, hiding behind your 1000 locks.


Time rolls on and the plot always thickens as the drama unfolds,


Our fellow fools say we are making progress, progress towards what i ask you?


Progression towards regression


A revert to ancient times as history continually repeats itself and mistakes


Of the past are made again and again in a never ending paradox, a hell storm,


The mail storm of chaotic repetitions,


Until we all awake one foggy morning in spring and see we are all


On the same levels, all tints of brown and all breathe the same air


Under the same moon and stars


True progress cannot be achieved.


Until that spring morning we will slowly slip into the same old same old in which we currently reside.


It was the Dr. Martin Luther King who spoke of dreams. Dreams are the foundation


For hope.


We must learn from his tragic story and seek out dreams


Before from this life we are untimely ripped.


Without Dreams we have but the waking world, the material plane.


We must take these visions and make them real.


Do it now "Carpe Diem"


Do not become Mr. Joe franchise, strive for me I implore you,


Youth of the here and now never allow contentment


To seep into every orifice on your body


Like an adhesive it will bind you where you stand.


There is but one way to end such an epidemic!


If at the end of the day you can look down at your hands and proclaim


“My hands have been bloodied with the flesh of the earth.


There is soil under these nails and calluses on my fingers,


My work has been good, my work here is done"



Ignorance Of A Love Thought Found


Pacing in circles, cursing the cloudless heavens of twilight


Chain-smoking now as if the next cigarette will numb my memory of you


and the knowledge its predecessor failed to do so


Turning endlessly in a ring of self-hatred why have I fallen for you


i only remember one instance in which i was this way before


I know this irrational process, the familiar rush and heightened sense


Each time you are near, each time I hold you, each time I steal a kiss and your lips grace


Mine with their presence


and for an instant I am whole


And for an instant we are one


But now, now that instant is gone from me as are you


Gone are your radiant smile and hazel eyes,


Gone are your gentle touch and sweetly scented dark locks


Gone is my soul’s reflection, its mirrored tune together


Creating harmony, but now mine is alone sounding into the endless darkness,


I know you are nothing but a memory now, stolen from me by nothing more then the slight event and the unceasing passage of time.