Day 3

God’s Palm
(10.9.2007)
Today, I’ve heard
He figured out he didn’t want to die
Or kill more likely
I’ve heard
From two sources that aren’t him
That he’ll stop fighting
He and I will get accustom
To the lack of dog tags on his chest
Maybe he’ll get to actually thinking of a future
Instead of pretending he doesn’t have one
I wonder what about him will change
What aspects of his life will he fix?
Will he stop saying yes’m?
Will he be the guy he’s scared to be?
All in good time
A voice whispers
Most of all
I wonder
Why choose now for
God to slap him upside the head

Day Two

Revolution
(10.4.2007)
It starts with something
Revolting
It disgusts
Something we do not accept
Nor look at
It turns into a
Revolt
It fights
A rebellion, not always heard
But a demonstration of discontent
It turns into a
Revolution
It changes
It cannot be ignored
It rearranges our view on society
From revolting to revolt
We get
A
Revolution

Day One

This was the first of my poems that I can find. It was written when I was a sophmore in high school, after my last year as a camper at camp. I was fifteen.

Scary Red Fear Monster
(10.3.2007)
And there
Is where
Fear is born
It emerges
Arms linked with spite and hate
They are red brown, a terracotta
The color of blood on dry ground
Their eyes burn a sickly red
They reach out a scaly arm
Tipped with claws
And the cold fingers lace around your ankle
Suddenly you’re plunged under
You try to scream or cry
But you can’t breathe
And you thrash like a dying eel
It’s essentially what you’ve become
A cold dark gray surround you
And though you can’t see
You can hear it’s cold, heavy laugh
And they’re atop you now
Clawing
Laughing
And they reach into your chest
And take your heart
Among other things
And probably your lungs too
Which explains why you can’t breathe
And suddenly it stops
And you realize
You
Are
Alone