braced, a poem

you slip into me

in assault

solid

scraping against

solid

the hot and cold

sensations

burning, dropping

inside my cheeks

stiff limbs

twisting, turning

fingers, hands

clenching, unclenching

and i can only

stare

nowhere but up

eyes trained heavily

on the ceiling

in silent prayer

at once, broken

there's a snap

and we fall quickly

into place

getting tighter

and tighter

and tighter still

until

the hour is over

and i get up

mouth aching

of rubber

and metal wires

thanks for nothing

there's a pause before

your eyes finally meet mine

and only then

does the finality in them

bear down on me

and the situation ring a bell

in my head

raucous, alarming

and i understand

where this is all going

you clear your throat

speaking words

i expect

but never want to hear

and the coldness

cuts through me

like a Swiss knife

sliding across my wrists

suddenly, slowly

drawing out fresh scarlet

as the pain sears

and i feel both

dead and alive

again

the summit, a poem

A two-year old poem. I still like it though. Sir Jason (sir Vitorillo, for those who aren't familiar) gave me a nine out of ten. and let me tell you, he is HARD to please.

the summit

---

a helpless cry resounds

roundabout, it goes

a call of hunger

of pain

of need

as the newborn is blinded

by the corruption of the world

abandoned, it is

in the midst of great heights

and rocky terrain

still too weak

still so young

is the child of the eagle eye

soon

it must learn

that life is a battlefield

with only a single rule to abide:

it is the survival of the fittest

a situation of live-or-die

a fight to keep alive

fear not, little one

for the day has just begun

and your time has yet to come

when you will soar the greatest heights

to claim the mountain lands

and be a master

a predator

a king

it is in your nature

and runs in your blood

for you alone can look into the sun

in the summit of virility