Wednesday, August 31, 2011

poem: I Am a Coward

I am a coward

I am a coward
I do not love myself enough to love another
My blood is bled only fr dramatic purposes
All my defenses only exist to win
at petty games that I play because I like pain.
My company is by law
and never by the choice that cannot live in a void.
I am a coward.

I am a coward.
The kind of coward that disturbs a peaceful night's flow
by crying through the muzzle only there for his own good.
You know I am no person.
A person would be grateful for the leash 
that keeps him sheltered and positioned
before his creator
where his little plays, plots and ways
can be monitored.
I am a coward.

I am no person
so beware and keep and eye on me in water.
I may begin to fight and gasp for air
and betray you
instead of sinking as I'm meant to do.
Derelict that I am,
I may act as if I don't owe you life itself sometimes
and I may even forget that I'm a ragdoll
for I am a coward.
Derelict, coward, ungrateful, traitor.
I am no person, no.
But if I were I would fall down on both knees
to beg your pardon for
everything ever and plead
yet since I am not thus armed with the power of love
my moral compass is void
and I push when I'm shoved.
If I were a person then I would take the brunt
sadly I am too weak.
I'm a sniveling cunt.
My name is Coward.

I am a coward. Oh
If I were brave 
I wouldn't know any discomfort
If I were loving I would eat your bullshit, pinky-up!
I'm sorry I'm not strong enough. 
I've no choice.
If I were human I would know the way to rescue.
But being cold and so unreachable
why should I be dependable?
I would never tell you
"Just pull the trigger."

I am, I am...yes
I am quite 
the little
confused
coward.
(Emphasis on little.)

(c) Luz Briar 2010-2011.








Thursday, August 18, 2011

poem: Strike Me (Fair-Weather)

Strike Me (Fair-Weather)

Strike me
I know it is your way to wound
In fair-weather
To hide your quiver
And in the downpour
To produce it and aim.
You beat your prey down to a pulp you can digest
Then spit it out…
Then wave the white flag…

Strike me
Fair-weather guardian
Tug the chain
To return me to your range.
But when the links break
And you lose your target, cry.
“Abandonment” in all its synonyms
You spit me out
You wave your flag

Strike me
How dare I escape the pain
I am a Coward!
How dare I hide from you
Or dare to seek shelter
From the maelstrom (Hell’s Wrath)
My soul is so colored from your attacks
It aches and trembles to touch.
You’ll spit out nothing now
And I will ignore your flag.

(c) 2011 Luz Briar.