For I Am A Patriot

For I Am A Patriot

I am a soldier
Standing on the battlefield
Where we have yet to fight
Holding on to my musket
With fingers that tremble with strength
Watching for the enemy colors
To cross the ridge before me
As I stand with my brethren
And we hold our breaths
Hoping that today isn’t our day to die
But it if is
Lord let it be bravely

For I am a patriot

From back home they say they miss me
They say I should return
When I tell them of the lack of food
The constant stench of death
My ragged clothes
And the depression of the camp
They remind me of all that I am missing
And all that I could have
Warmth and love and happiness
Now who wouldn’t want that?
But even in the depth of my sorrows
I reply “Not yet, not today”

For I am a patriot

And when the day is done
And we can hoist our colors in the air
The people cheer
The men rejoice
And the singing fills the sky
Some comrades may be dead but they
Died in the greatest way
So we celebrate their deaths
And our survival to fight another day
For we are the winners of this battle
And I know we will be the winners of the war
What else could we be?

For I am a patriot


All Goes to Pieces

I’m proud to say this is a piece I performed today, but it’s not really a piece that I think I should record. I’m currently playing with different ways to do that, and we’ll see if I actually do or just type it up at let you act it out. 😀

All Goes to Pieces

A girl kneels beside her bed
As if in prayer but not
She is staring at the blue vein in her wrist
Wondering how she got so low that she knows opening it won’t help
The house shelters her from the weather outside
Wishing it could kneel in prayer to a God she does not believe
Because it would be something more to give than four walls

But it helps the boys more
Welding the lock to their door
Not to keep them in but to keep the shouting out
The parents are upstairs
Shaking window panes and slamming doors
The house cannot keep the screaming contained
They hear it through failing walls

So the girl changes her Facebook religion to atheist
Saying “This I now know”
As the brothers lie in their bunk bed
Ashamed to admit the comfort of their solidarity
And the parents plan a vacation
That would send them each to a different corner of the country
And they welcome it

As they sit around the TV
Drowning out the wind that’s lashing the outside
The girl and the house stare at each other through the two-faced window
Both wondering if this is where it all goes to pieces

Shared Tears

Shared Tears

You call us together
To talk about the problem
Well my dear
We are the problem

Where there should be friends
Where there should be love
Where there should be hugs
Where there should be laughs

Have we even got any of the good left?

Threaten to his unblinking face
To kick him out
But the salt streams are on my cheeks
We are bound by tenuous threads
Now that most of them have shattered

So shout some more
Doesn’t matter if I’m upstairs
I can hear you through the ceiling
As I huddle on the floor
Shedding the last thing we share


Thursday Poets’ Rally Wk 31 – Tug of War

This is my piece of wk 31 of the Thursday Poets’ Rally over at Jingles. Check it out here:

Tug of War

What’s a battle of tug of war
Between friends?
I assure you
It isn’t innocent
When you are using me as your rope
I’ve listened to his side
I’ve listened to hers
But how the hell
Did I get in the middle?
He attacks her
Using me
She needles him
Using me–
Excuse me!
Don’t I have a say?
Can’t I protest?
Guess not…
But friends
Let me warn you
I’ve been wrung around
This torture wheel before
And I don’t put up with this anymore

September 20th – Silent Tears

Silent Tears

These walls are thin you know
I can hear the fighting through them
Screaming at each other
Each cut
Hurting him
Hurting her
Hurting me
Each thrown object
Hitting walls
Hitting floors
Hitting me
Each accusation
Stabbing him
Stabbing her
Stabbing me
They don’t know they’re killing me too
And they never will
For all I can do is cry
And tears are silent

July 30th – Mediator, Traitor

Look, the poem that was supposed to be here days ago!

Mediator, Traitor

They call me the Peacekeeper
The friend in the middle
The sibling in the center
Holding up the caution flags
Mediating a truce
They tell me that I’m wonderful
That I’m a true friend
But I don’t feel the same

I don’t want to be the one
Sorting out the facts
I don’t want to be the one
Taking all the blows
I don’t want to be the one
On whom you unload all your crap

I hate to break it to you
But I’m not bulletproof

I love you
I love her
I love him
I love them
But after all this time
Somehow I’ve lost my love of me

You say I play the mediator
But I call myself a traitor
Because I’ve lost my own sense of justice
Trying to appease you all

I tell you I think the same
I tell her I think the same
I tell him I think the same
I tell them I think the same
But what I really think
Has been lost
Because I much too afraid
Of losing

They call me Peacekeeper
The one with all the patience
The one who sees it all
But someday I’m going to lose it
And find myself

June 9th – Easy, Easier, Harder

Another poem for those with a fighting spirit! Surprisingly enough, today’s a pretty happy day for me despite the fact that it marks the beginning of a very, very long working weekend and the weather outside just won’t get sunny. I’ve FINALLY finalized (pretty much, anyways) a really big trip of mine for the end of June and I’m very exciting! But you didn’t come here to hear me gush … you want poetry!

Easy, Easier, Harder

It’s easy to be
Indifferent to you
As you scream
And threaten away
It’s easy to say
You don’t bother me
Because nothing can
And never will
It’s easy to
Cover my ears
And pretend I can’t hear you
To make you angrier
It’s easy to
Goad you into another fight
Throw a punch of my own
And not like it

But it’s easier to
Just let the tears come
And try to drown
Myself in them
It’s easier to run away
Lock myself in my room
And swear that we’ll
Never speak again
It’s easier to say
I hate you
And refuse to think
With my sense intact
It’s easier to tell myself
Life is worth nothing
So what’s the point
Of caring about anything at all

But it’s harder
To turn around
And face you
Without a shield
It’s harder to
Keep myself
From firing back
Just as hard
It’s harder to
Keep myself calm
And be the sane one
So that the fight can end
It’s harder to say
I love you
To someone who has
Hurt me

The easy choices
May make it go away
But I’ve never been much
Of a coward