Everything’s Impossible Until It Isn’t – Read A Captivating Poem By Harry Baker

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    In the realm of spoken word poetry, there are few names that resonate as powerfully as Harry Baker. With his razor-sharp wit, magnetic stage presence, and uncanny ability to turn words into vivid emotions, Baker has carved a niche for himself as one of the most captivating and talented poets of our time. Prepare to be enthralled as we delve into the world of this extraordinary wordsmith.

    Here is one of his captivating works titled “Impossible”.

    I’m finding it too easy
    to tell myself it is too hard,
    When facing the end
    that it’s too late
    to even make a start,
    But if we take impossible
    to mean that we don’t
    have a chance,
    We have lost sight
    of how unlikely it was
    we would get this far.
    The way the single fish
    outwits a shark
    by sticking with its school,
    The way the crescent moon
    outspins its dark
    to once again be full,
    Even winter –
    given long enough
    begins to lose its cool,
    That which was once exceptional
    now barely registers at all.
    Flamingos and giraffes
    look like they were drawn
    by a child,
    We can’t begin to comprehend
    all of the ways
    this world is wild,
    None of them asked
    if they were possible
    before they came to be,
    None of them have
    ceased to exist
    by being told
    they’re make-believe.
    The bug who
    finds it all too much,
    and tries to shut off
    everything,
    To have recovered
    and then summoned up
    the strength to
    stretch its wings
    The snake so full of itself
    that it cannot help
    but shed its skin
    Or how instead of death,
    the hedgehog went to bed
    and slept til spring.
    To think the Earth exists
    at this specific
    distance from the sun,
    Down to the angle
    of the axis
    on which everything is spun,
    The fact that trees
    happen to breathe
    that which we need
    inside our lungs,
    It would all seem impossible,
    had it not already been done.
    We are impossible
    to everyone
    who’s ever gone before
    And everyone who’s yet to come
    will push impossible some more.
    Just as indeed the do’s we did
    outdo the don’ts we didn’t,
    so everything’s impossible,
    until it isn’t.
    The thought of rivers
    changing course
    before somebody gave a damn
    Or that a tide
    might turn from shore
    before a line’s drawn
    in the sand,
    We cannot know
    how far our actions go
    The impact they might have
    Sometimes the only thing
    that we can do
    Is to do all we can
    Just as the night
    is at its darkest
    When it’s introduced to day,
    Just as the dry
    is at its harshest
    In the breath before it rains,
    It’s easy enough
    to believe in something
    when it’s all okay,
    But it’s when times
    are at their hardest
    that it’s hardest to have faith.
    Yet when the light
    begins to fade
    that’s when we need it the most
    It’s by surviving day to day
    that we see seasons evolve
    If there was never any doubt
    there’d be no reason for hope,
    It could be too late
    to do anything,
    It sure as hell is if we don’t.
    And I am tired
    of the doom and gloom
    and self-fulfilling prophecy,
    I am trying
    to find room to bloom
    and self-fulfil the opposite,
    When it’s an act of revolution
    to try to stay remotely positive,
    There’s nothing wishy-washy
    about opting to be optimists.
    Whether a brighter future’s
    possible we may not truly know,
    But the first step towards that
    future is imagining it so,
    and so as indeed the dos we did
    outdo the don’ts we didn’t,
    It only stays impossible,
    until it isn’t.
    And when it’s over,
    and we’re no more
    than old bones
    within the ground,
    Still the soil knows
    to sow its seed
    from what is broken down,
    What is lost is always lost
    until the moment it is found,
    And these things
    only ever go one way,
    unless we turn them around.
    We are so constantly surrounded
    that it’s easy to forget,
    This world was built
    upon impossible,
    that has not stopped us yet.
    so yes indeed the dos we did
    outdo the don’ts we didn’t
    So it remains impossible,
    until it isn’t.


    See more of Harry Baker’s works here.

    Source: cyberpogo.com



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