Give me those ones

Give me the ones who dare

to care

to make a difference

The ones with fear

in their glare

but still stand for change

Prizefight

“He’s mine!”
She screams
Feathers all ruffled
Posturing for a cockfight
Between hens
Who’d be much better off
As friends
Over a overhyped prize
Too chicken
To turn down any passing
Breast and thighs

Pyromania

Pyromania, an obsessive desire to set fire to things

I wish this match was not so perfect
I wish I could extinguish the flames
I wish that the heat didn’t draw me in
That the flicker would not entice me
I would that I could stop
I would that I could quit
But I’m nowhere ahead
A hundred miles behind
I just need to smell it
Let the smoke enrapture my brains
I just need to hold it
Just a little bit more
I wish I could harness it
Be its only master
Then be consumed by it
As it’s only servant
But I can have neither
And that’s the hardest part
And I wish I could forget that
But I cant.

Feb 6, 2009

I will read you

I will read you
Like poems,
Like anthologies of poems
Like words painted on pages by old stencils
I will read your past