Friday, February 27, 2009

Poetry, hopefully...

Some [crappy] poetry that I wrote for an English class. At least, I hope its poetry.


It’s an extension of me.
It has seen horrors with me.
It shared in my relief.
Cold to touch, it burns with life at my command.

The faces around me change.
They speak of togetherness, but they all leave.
It remains
It is my constant; my companion.
It is my trusted brother.
It is my heated lover.

It is a part of me, yet it’s so unattached.
It rides on my back.
My side.
My soul.
They say I can trust it.
I trust myself and it trusts me.
I depend on its dependence on me.
It falls as I fall.
It lives as I live.

Do I use it?
Does it use me?
Bonded, a mutual musk.
They don’t need to hear us, they can smell us.

I see the extension now.
What I’m told is ideal.
It moves with my arm.
Sees with my eyes.
Yelps with my fear.
Screams with my hate.

All gone; only we remain.
Noise erupts all around me.
The heat that filled it, the life, the death, is fading.
It is silent. Cold.
I look to those that once were with us.
Their companions lie with them.
The bond broken, no dependence exists.
Till death do us part.
I look to my comrade.
It gives no sympathy.
Could it help me?

I raise it to my lips and engulf it.
I taste it in my mouth.
Nothing like a human.
We are not brothers.
Our union shattered.

I smile when it hits.
My estranged does me no final service.
Another’s smell has arrived.
The trust between them is strong.
I pity him.
He, like it, lends me no heed.
I die alone. A stranger at my side.
No, an object.
A gun.


It’s almost laughable now. Almost.
When he approached me, I thought he looked cool.
His eyes were smoldering his smile lopsided.
He looked down on me. What did he take me for?
No matter, the flirt was giving me a free ride.

The power was the first thing I felt. And one of the last.
The massive kick as we leapt forward at a fantastic speed.
The world around us bled to grey.
Through the visor, his long hair whipped across my vision.

I barely heard the horn, let alone saw the truck.
It happened in slow motion.
He turned, his eyes widened.
I think he tried to swerve, I know he at least thought about it.

He flew away from me. Scared, but he knew what was coming.
I wish I knew. I wish death had come to me.
I felt the truck and the bike on each side.
I tried to roll. At least part of me rolled.
I felt nothing as the world faded away.

I woke three days ahead of myself.
I was too tired to move. Or at least that’s what I thought.
The doctors abided my wishes; they gave it to me straight.
They said there were no bone shards. I was lucky, I’d feel no pain.
My spine had a clean break. It was my life that was shattered.