Monthly Archives: June 2023

Temperance

Nostrils carved of ice,
the breath slicing through tender lungs,
attacking the warm muscle.

My calves caught
in the maw of my jeans,
like a dogs rubber toy,
no wrenching
or twisting
able to free it;
two layers deep,
in a sandwich of warmth –
hastily readied for the journey,
a school far away at its end.

So I ran.
Slammed the door behind me,
landing on the snow,
not in.

Everything an autumn leaf isn’t,
but landing as they all the same.
I ran, holding my weight like a skirt,
caught in a room of carnivorous formality,
and the snow permitted me upon it.
Having had two days of blistering cold,
beneath bright clear skies.
It was kind and unforgiving.

That threat – I knew.
I ran, and thankfully
never broke through,
I was untouchable.

Barbarians

Monsters pursue us across the Rhine,
like long dead nightmares resurrected,
our own corpses brought to life out of their time,
into ours with a fevered lust for revenge,
to live again.

They tower above the loftiest heads,
as thick as trees with ambitions for the horizon,
not seeing the walls or crowns
built to quench their desire, only what is past them,
beyond you.

When we were those monsters too,
you descended on us as crusaders,
knowing the needs we did not.

You conquered us, subjugated us,
and educated us,
so that we may yet be free,
under your regime
to pursue those needs you made for us.

Now, as they descend upon you, us, united,
our enemy, fast as white capped rivers rage;
we beg for intervention,
grant us now the peace you once denied,
let some part of us survive.

I, Father

When they were born, he was humbled quiet,
his heart taking seed in that fresh ground, quiet.

Much of the turmoil in his mind settled,
until even his feelings did sound quiet;

and when they were taken, to his own shame,
instead of protest they only found quiet.

The sapling he had been, grown in lush soil,
infertile now, withered with profound quiet.

Far too late, he begged for their love returned,
pleading tears until they were drowned, quiet.

This offense, his only true legacy,
Brendon’s mouth twisted up, bound. Quiet.