red

(first post in an “old poetry/new picture” theme)

how much time is too much
to lose, to throw away
to warm my hands
at an uncertain fire
when i cant begin
to end the question of

how
i feel
        i know my heart well
enough
to fear to speak
i am stranger enough
to wonder should i fear
unaware
she moves through me
as she moves by
i feign disinterest
trembling addicted
without the touch
of needle or flesh

  close friends are earnest, inane
  im quizzed about
  why
  they dont see my confusion
  when i splash it in their eyes
inside
full of a dope fiend's
hitless tremor
a martyr
to the status quo
i beat these walls
until blood flows

while my thoughts are free
my hands are fists

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7 Comments

1. deutlich, January 17, 2009:

   That image of fire is spectacular. I’ve tried taking similar ones but it neeever works out.

2. Jay, January 17, 2009:

   Umm…yeah, what your wife wrote about you seems not to be too far off.

3. Crissy, January 18, 2009:

   I TOLD YOU you were GAY!!!!

   And I think you’d secretly like to be ee cummings because this poem is so very representative of most of your poetry and so much like his. I like it.

4. Ken, January 18, 2009:

   it’s too legible to be ee cummings, i’m afraid.

   i need to work on being more nebulous and obscure.

5. Matt, January 19, 2009:

   FLAMES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

6. Matt, January 19, 2009:

   Sorry. I just like flames alot.

7. k8, January 19, 2009:

   Ken, I would not have thought you the poetic type and it makes me happy to read it. Way to go!