we hid here
among the words we write
expressing ourselves
anonymously
using synonyms
similes adjectives
verbs nouns
to voice our fragility
our vulnerability
and self-doubt
implanted by years
of subjugation
intimidation
manipulation
bullied
into self-loathing
self-harm
even suicidal thoughts
well here we are
come find us
I challenge you to a duel
your intellect
against mine

Has the pain
not been enough
after I left you,
crawling on skinned hands and knees,
ribcage open,
heart bare, bleeding out,
exposing the shallow grave you dug
for yourself
to nestle and rest in
forever, for
as long as I breathe?
Just below the torn,
worn skin,
barely concealed and ever present,
never to be forgotten for you are,
still,
alive in my head

Death carries
no meaning here,
where you
and I
lay,
on our battlefield of blood spilled
and souls lost,
minds lost,
bodies lost in the abyss of
man’s darkness and
cruelty.

The depth of hatred can
only be matched to
the depth of love,
two halves of the same,
in your blood and mine
we lie as one.

Never reach for me again.

It sweeps the time
The oblivion breeze
of your ethery eyes /
Makes my heart beat
Makes my eyes weep /
And makes two men
One with ginger beard
One with black moustache
To push the trigger /
One wins sweet death
Everlasting anesthesia
The other suits you
My sweety Nastya

“Duellem” (The Duel)
by Charles Baudelaire
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Two combatants charged!
                                             Their fearsome swords
brightened the air with fiery sparks and blood.
Their clashing blades
                                      clinked odd serenades
reminding us: youth’s inspired by overloud love.

But now their blades lie broken, like our hearts!
Still, our savage teeth and talon-like fingernails
can do more damage than the deadliest sword
when lovers lash about with such natural flails.

In a deep ravine haunted by lynxes and panthers,
our heroes roll around in a cozy embrace,
leaving their blood to redden the colorless branches.
This abyss is pure hell; our friends occupy the place.

Come, let us sport and spurt here, cruel Amazon;
let our hatred’s ardor never be over and done!

Keywords/Tags: Baudelaire, translation, French, duel, combatants, duelists, swords, sparks, blood, blades, hearts, teeth, blood, talons, lynxes, panthers, abyss, hell, Amazon, hatred, ardor, furor, passion, fury, anger

have mostly passed,
pressed into the pages
of history books, but how
they linger in memory!

two men, reputations
mutually compromises,
meet to prove their valor
on the feild of honor.

with great ceremony,
their seconds present
the pistols, oiled and gleaming
deadliness in the wavering light.

the rivals take their places
and, beloved guns in hand,
they stand back-to-back,
gathering courage.

eight paces in opposite
directions, at the signal, turn,
take aim, praying it’s straight,
that your sight remains plumb.

Fire.

Useless, I swore to use this, but I can’t do this
Turn around, sit down, I’ll tell you if the shoe fits
Rage fits, but I can’t scream
Burning fires in my dreams
It’s going well, or so it seems
But luck can change so fast—I mean,
Are you, are you not on board?
Care to duel? Words are my sword
It’s just too much; I can’t afford
The price of nice behavior toward
These people wearing masks
I’m not a person; I’m a task
If you don’t like me, I’ll just ask
Before I’m lost in the past

Why does time pass more slowly when we want it to go faster?
Dripping like molasses
Flowing like tar
Sinking
slower
s l o w e r
s   l   o   w   e   r
STOP
Time freezes
"No beat, no melody"
As they say in that famous play
Hamilton never stopped
Until that bullet made him
Sometimes I wish Aaron Burr would shoot me in the same way
Time is killing me
But not fast enough
It's the waiting that does it
But what am I waiting for?
A reason to be dead?
A reason to be alive?
A reason to have a reason?
A reason.
That's what we're waiting for.
I wonder what mine is.