Thursday, January 6, 2011

Poem Jan 4, 2011

I can't have children
I am a man
But I believe
That I carry
Something much more
Dangerous.

Not the smiles and squeaks of a newborn
Not the long sleepless nights of crying
Nor the premature grays of endless worry
No.  I carry something much more
Dangerous.

In the crevices of my mind
Stalks a Specter
And in the seven spheres of my imagination
Soars an Angel.

A ghost that keeps me awake for long nights
A cherub that speaks in giggles and coos
A phantom that drains my life
A seraph that lights a fire in my eyes

I am swollen not with child
But with dreams
And I will either give birth
Or surfeit and bleed out

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