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Witchvox Chapter: Local Poetry
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Poeem Specs
VxPoem ID: 37221
Category:
personal_life
Posted: November 7th. 2009 5:19:58 AM
Views: 93 |
Speed
by Empress Penguin
Age Group: Adult
Speed
I know him pretty well, the cop on the Harley,
he doesn't give a second thought to women,
even those destined for greatness. He's
versatile, changes his style of clothes to fit
his moods. He says a lot of things about
pride, honor, opportunity, without showing
much vulnerability, even though he's got great
wit and personal goodness edged by a symbolic
little boy smile; his personal contribution to
the idiosyncrasies of his behavior.
I serve as the heroic actress in his goddam
dramas, the ones he fabricates to keep from
getting bored, but what he doesn't know is
I'm compelled by the same emotion, the same
adrenaline rush. The creation of my pen takes
on full life and I can smell the scent of an old
theater as we ride his bike together, we, two
mendicants, two travelers, staring at sundown
with a sense of humor and defiance. There's no
semblance of romance inhibiting the spirit,
and I'm already in love with someone else, but
I like the way he shakes the foundation of my
literature, forcing me to occupy center stage with
him; having some fun. He makes no apologies,
doesn't cater to rabbi, minister or priest yet he's
not misguided. He's Hell's Kitchen, Scrap Bar Metal,
the guy who hunts down sociopathic serial killers
building pyramids of humanity with bricks and hard
granite. He's strong but not inflexible. We've talked
about love, God, moral law, and the battlefield of
the spirit. He's from my neck of the woods and he
speaks about the old neighborhood with sufficient
reverence. He's no martyr but he does champion
revolution with genuine artistic flavor. He is the
keeper of the keys to his own kingdom, a father,
who buys Bratz dolls for his baby girl and agonizes
over his older daughter's relationship via facebook.
I don't complain when he says it's a privilege to
speak to me, to hang with me; being with him is
complete relaxation.
I've received kindly forewarnings about his charming
speech and how remiss he can be emotionally, but
they just make me laugh. I know all about last-minute
surprises, I understand his jargon, we're not all that
different he and I. It's a mad place the one we reside
in, created by the pitfalls of our past, our childhood,
but we come to terms with it in complete honesty. The
many facets of the internal us pours forth from our
friendship, and I personally like the way he encourages
me not to hesitate when I lift both my voice and pen.
Today I emerge feeling blessed, happy, and having all
the answers. Sometimes imperfection is captivating!
It may be mediocre to the rest of the world but to me,
it’s satisfying. This road trip of ours is just beginning
and the man who collects action figures by the
hundreds; who knows the name, make, of every
collectable doll made has become my good friend. I'm
still hurting over the loss of the man I love but I must
also confess that my friend has my attention. While he
will never have the opportunity to break my heart,
he does hold my interest and has my profound respect.
All I can say is, Harry, rev it up baby, I'm ridin'.
Author's Location: The Dark Side Of The Moon, New York
More Poems: Empress Penguin has posted 296 additional poems- View them?
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