Back To Back

“You may not remember the time you let me go first.
Or the time you dropped back to tell me it wasn’t that far to go.
Or the time you waited at the crossroads for me to catch up.
You may not remember any of those, but I do and this is what I have to say to you:

Today, no matter what it takes,
we ride home together.”
Brian Andreas, Traveling Light: Stories & Drawings for a Quiet Mind

 

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Back to back that’s how we started,
fighting the whole world, we never parted.
Then came new life, shafts in the quiver.
We fired them off, our crops never withered.
Along came the wolf, death he swore.
He limped and lied to get through the door.
He consumed you with his intellectual abandon,
my back now unguarded, my heart saddened.
I tried for months to retake the hallowed ground,
but you were too far gone, never to be found.
Lost and spinning, exposing my nakedness,
I struggled grimacing, my life hard pressed
Then I saw her, evil disguised as purity.
Face of an angel, a heart that wasn’t free.
I came to her with my intentions pure,
she cast one glance, it was over for sure
All the passion I wished you to use,
now you found it, she was your muse
I drove on, looking at you secretly,
asking me to stay, your nakedness I see
To late, like fire spreading on water,
she flowed freely, around all your barter
Driving on into my own peril,
she would slay me with just one arrow
Entranced by her wiles, I followed her to hell,
but my back not guarded, I swiftly fell.
Barely I survived, held under the water of pain,
my lungs bursting to breath love again
Fire scorched and burned through all my nerves,
it never went out, smoldering in the curves
Struggling to gain ground, to get back to back again,
Back to back one day, I long for my friend.

Also published in Broowaha
08072010
 
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Thinking

“I think and think and think, I‘ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.” – Jonathan Safran Foer
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Starting small, a little fire, a gentlebeginning

Fuel consumed by circumstance

Flames are bright, I think to much.


Pull the sand, a gentle river, contained by nurture

Releasing it runs, events of chance

Rapids form rolling hills, I think to much


Words spoken, few arrows, swiftly flying away

Wounds bleed from peaceful intentions

Broken shafts are faults, I think to much


Drops floating, small crowds, in heated drafts gather

Billowed followings, a dark horizon

Deluge free falling fast, I think to much