My blood is ignited,
my neurons are snap, crackle, popping,
my mind is on fire,
and my heart…
well, leave my heart out of this –
it’s not ready to join the flames,
not ready to sing and dance,
not ready to celebrate just yet.
My heart would rather hide away
and lick its wounds for awhile
as the sun sings with solar flares
and the sky burns with fervent passion.
This is a time of joy
but not of love.
This is a time of happiness
but not of peace.
It’s too much to ask
that every sign in the heavens
all in the same moment
as if the celestial spheres
were raining down miracles
with synchronistic flare,
so my lips will stay sealed
and my tongue will not let loose
with a single wish
to the stars above.
This accelerated high
has just enough juice
to propel the winds of change
and turn the tide in my favor,
so there is no need to beg
of the ocean’s peaking waves
to carry me all the way ashore.
My blood is a pyre,
my neurons are laser sharp,
my mind is crystal clear,
and my heart…
well, my heart can take
a backseat for awhile
and wait with patience
for the next opportunity to strike
while everything else in my life
continues to get better by the day.
A few poems out so far this week:
For Whom the Bell Lies – Dissident Voice
Front Page – Social Justice Poetry
Maple Syrup Sex Appeal – Cultured Vultures (won 1st place in Poem of the Week contest)
Scott Thomas Outlar