no wonder they said you fire words at people
its the same mechanism as a gun
you aim at the target
   the person
you pull the trigger
   you start yelling at someone
you feel the kick of the gun
   the instant questioning if you should have started this
the bullet hits the person
   the words hit deep and they feel the pain

and both these wounds can effect someone minorly and severely and can even be fatal to the person receiving your words or bullet

the silence was never there.

thick, thin, a continuous disturbance—
created by one of us in a fragile ice skate dance
you sigh and the air swallows it
while i am left to watch if i do the same
or break

thick, thin, a feverish disturbance—
almost as fast as lightning, a broken trance
has me hurling hurtful words, an argument that cannot win
you point out the flaw in my ways

thick, thin, descriptive of skin—
your steps i will not to follow, a path
i do not want to take
a calm exterior is what i fake
to keep the composure i've powdered on

thick, thin, a relationship between suns—
stars that never go out
flares that never end
heat that never really shushes
in the silence of space

thick, thin, a wire we walk on—
tired and aching, we balance
we balance, angrily, fists in *****
sadness washes over us in rain drops
on a tightrope that never ends

Gods will rise and fall
And many suns may set,
but man will never get
loose from hatred's thrall.

so even if he shouts
his love and inner peace,
man will never cease
to have his hateful doubts...

arguments not needed
for this statement poem,
as hatred is yet flowing
so rhymes can be conceited.

Because man should hate,
as he has always done,
When fear and pride have won
this poetic prate.

My heart walks away, for a time,
Just to be safe...
She's a prize fighter, I know how to fall
Down. Rips, fissures, normal wear for 31 years
In the shower silence
In that quiet place she stands and I unfurl
A life is a life, lived, fought, dribbled away or burnt
And
This one's hers.
So I stay with the cold space in my chest,
And wait for it to return.

Slouched atop the bookshelf resting his fluffy head
against much loved Rudyard Kipling's finest.
He watched the day to day stories of King Anthony
'The child ruler of the world' and his beloved younger sister Anya.

Avoiding arguments downstairs in the dying segments of daylight,
the boy's reassurance to Anya showcased rare moments of humanity
not seen by Little Weissel's beaded eyes since occupied Holland.
Amongst his stuffing was still memories of his first best friend,
in which many a day was spent quietly hiding away,
listening to the sound of boots roaming around the house.

King Anthony reached his hand out in full view of the aged bear's face
and plucked him from his perch.
As warm as the bear felt to him, he felt to this plush relic, whose eyes
would dilate in the melt of such moment if only they could.
From his arms passing down to her trembling ones;
she was looking for solace in the wake of mother and father's quaking
voices in the kitchen.

For Little Weissel it seemed like 'what was old is new again'
and now after spells after neglect he was experiencing a second
lease of life.
As the war downstairs fizzled out into quiet evening, King Anthony and Anya were locked together, both tenants of sleep with
Little Weissel just as lovingly clung to as the first moment he'd been clutched.

Maybe in the new harsh terrain, the scabby mass of the little bear
could once again feel the need to be needed as any good plaything deserves to be.

Oh Donny and Arnie got into a battle,
begun by The Donald who started to prattle
on something so urgent... important... momentous,
which is: Arnie's ratings on this year's "Apprentice".

So Arnie said, "Trump - What's your priority,
a show you produce or the presidency?"
Then Donny said, "I'll show you how much I care"
as he made a dog's breakfast by hijacking prayer.

So Arnie said, "Donny, you ignorant *****,
when it comes to careers, perhaps we should switch.
You take on the ratings as job number one,
while I sit in the Oval and get something done!"

Of course, this whole thing's a ridiculous act
on the part of The Donald, so he can distract
all of us and the press and the whole internet
from the seemingly fascist agenda he's set.

So let's make a vow not to speak of this stuff,
and let us not heed this celebrity fluff.
Let's not make muckraking the thing that we do...
But now I have realized... I've just done it too!

Now you talk like that to me
All emotional and all impulsive
I am tempted to reply
In the same unreasonable way

But because of that
I will keep it back
Staying calm for a moment or two.

To find the right answer for you.