Travis has written prolifically since as early as he could hold a pencil, never resting on his laurels, never content with average. His poems have never before been published or shown to all but his closest friends.
We’re honored to present to you his debut on the world stage. For your aural pleasure Hospice will be recording a collection of his poetry, read aloud. Look forward to more updates.
The world, meet Travis Turner. Travis, meet the world.
September 9th, 2010
Figurehead
Told what to taste,
quiet blinking vision;
I was made for prison.
Speechless and braying
always: “I don’t know,”
always: “You know best,”
ceaseless obeying.
On my stepping orders,
it’s known where to go,
unbroken borders,
a uniform should glow.
I know I choose my garb.
I think I choose my style.
My certainty’s just a shard,
a splinter misplaced
in my warden’s haypile.
My food is always the best,
(or so I’m told)
prepared by the greatest chefs,
each calorie accounted,
every savory flavor bold
My time – always mine to burn
yet advised upon,
by advertisement.
Cyclically, suggestions churn,
skydiving with no horizon.
My freedom: never questioned;
but friends through fences beckon
in ultimate luxury
I’m happily jailed.
A fortunate catastrophe.
And love?
Oh, I’m far too smart to heed,
its song, sirening from the trees.
Just doves
departed from silly heaven
missing opal eaves.