The Executioner’s Axe

My speech for freedom was a success,

and thank darkness for a cloudy night.

For I could not afford a single soul to see my face as I stood,

de-masked above a dying crowd.

 

I roared about the actions necessary,

should we desire an end prettier than the starving crows…

though thus urging riot I simultaneously guaranteed a revolutionary’s final date with my counterpart’s sharp claws.

 

It seems to me that the powers which confine us,

are afraid as wild youth as it nears its end.

Natural life will always be the outcome.

What is up has got to fall; and isn’t that sometimes a reason to be quiet?

 

When one whose life is so alight that they react to their ‘nurture’,

they will burn a fire in the hearts of dead-men walking.

 

How this army will march united… I wish I live to see.

So that my eyes may dry and hate subside –

my axe no longer need divide,

my self in two as one who raises freedom and beheads it all the same.

 

My axe chips as does my soul whenever a revolutionary’s crippled.

This is how an executioner prays:

LIVE LOUD.

FIGHT HARD.

EVADE SOCIETY’S AXES AND BRING LIFE BACK TO ALL MY DYING PEOPLE!

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Python

There is nothing in this world but mist,

blanketing over exposed convulsions and…

lulling our lungs to calm against our raging will.

 

Calm is a universe,

so separate from this -me-

so presumably occupied that it is left to loneliness in Her sadistic romance.

 

Worn out;

Our eyes struggle to make home within our mist,

they remain closed in wakeful struggles –

never seeing the colors surrounding our often too narrow grey paths which;

in the arrest of guilty breaths all lead to one central eden.

 

This guilt,

this… gift;

received with so little resistance is often no more than a domesticated python.

So why not tame it?

Re-name it… make it yours… own it and see;

a python does not revel in eating souls as a hobby.

This is not a poem

The last two poems I published on here were old pieces.

The intention is to gather each and every piece I am okay with on here for safe-keeping… Mainly because I am my own worst critic and I tend to burn my work…

Also because life is fickle and no one ever knows how or when it will cease and I know that some people would appreciate having something of mine to keep them warm when it gets cold everywhere.

 

Usually when I get cold everywhere, the words become easy to find and easier to compose with. I guess this time it’s a little different.

 

Until next time and thanks for reading:

Canis-Lupus

My First Poem

I am unashamed to say that every love was my biggest.

That is to say;

No one else mattered when I was yours,

besides…

I hadn’t even noticed that we weren’t the only ones.

There are only one-and-only moments…

So I made the best of ours and then carefully stashed them away in my garage

full of “special memories”.

 

At midnight you walked into my room,

your eyes were a river source,

your hands – what propel earthquakes.

You stretched out your arms towards the stars on my face

and I wished I could wipe the honesty off your eyes – it cannot be unseen;

the deep breath in my ear will not go unheard and

the pulse between my thighs is feeling itself so bad

I imagined you proving it wrong with your mouth.

 

There is a plum in my throat and you are kissing her.

This pulse between my thighs turns into

an accidental spray of chili-pepper juice behind my eyes;

and you tell me she has enough milk to heal all of the blind.

 

I’d rather go meet Morpheus in the darkness and remain there.

I’d rather not hear that you know I know how to love you best of all.

 

I’d rather go blind than to have seen that truth behind your longing stare.

 

At midnight…

After you walked into my room; the ball and chain off my heart finally broke the link with their weight, and I am willing to praise you for this act of grace.

Come save me while you break her heart,

Come heal me while she bleeds all out,

Come kiss me while she’s turning blue,

Let past death birth our future.

 

Let’s be the only ones

Let’s have our one-and-only moments…

Let’s play them on repeat, press record, produce and own them.

 

The road to awe…

Be the journey I would choose even if I had a million tries…

 

I am unashamed to say that;

Every love was my biggest one.

Revolt

I see a sea of dreamers.

Foreheads resting on elbows,

Elbows resting on counters,

Counters built up by the broken dreams of the countless.

 

I see a sea of dreamers,

Resting their heads on their elbows.

Their elbows resting on the counters which,

are made up of the shattered dreams of the countless.

 

I see a sea of dreamers

Lifting their heads from their elbows;

Tugging at each other’s shoulders.

Elbows slowly leaving the counters,

Fingers clasped in a chain,

Eyes…

Looking ever-on-upward;

Never to be countless again.

 

Now the counted:

are seeing a sea of dreamers.

Resting their heads on their elbows,

Their elbows resting on counters.

And… In a loop –

The counted are defining the countless.

THE COWARD

There’s a dirt road inside me.

Along its sides; vast canvas-spaces of land.

The soil; rich and colorful…

There’s a little sign I keep staring at but cannot read, because

I’ve always been afraid of taking chances;

I’ve not yet been brave enough to walk at a distance where I could read it.

 

These days…

My toes tingle at the thought of nearing this dirt road I;

can only hope leads to you.

This road has the scent of spring-time and the first rainfall,

It stretches out like a pair of arms

Left outstretched so long that

they seem limp and infinitely empty.

 

The sun is permanently setting over there.

One needs only look around

See the ever-changing shapes, sometimes blue, sometimes violet…

Other times my mind’s eye is just dumb

It covers the sun and what else should prevail but darkness?

I… tell myself that the light in my eyes

reflected off yours wouldn’t be enough to keep me walking in the right direction.
When it’s your light alone

Illuminated the halls of my misfortunate heart.

 

 

 

Hi, I Love You!

I’ve come to realize that I have a love problem.

I’m the kind of person who will be sitting 100m away and still have you feel my stare on you;

Until you’re so uncomfortable that you have to come find out what my problem is, or maybe try to leave but either way – I will intercept your departure and I will say something completely ludicrous like –

“Hi, I love you!”

You will pull away nervously, not knowing the most acceptable response,

yet… not walking away and then I’d introduce myself.

Maybe you’ll just leave me standing there,

Maybe I’d deserve it…

Maybe I would never know your name

and maybe you would just pretend you hadn’t heard me.

But just MAYBE

You will laugh and stumble over our humble sense of humor and retort with something like;

“Here I actually thought your name was I love you!”

I’d tell you that you’re stupid

and we’d both decide that honesty is worth the awkward.

You’d buy me a bottle and leave me a riddle on its bottom.

You wouldn’t give me a hint

But I would figure it out with only my fingertips.