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Mica Kluge Aug 29
“”Hope” is a thing with feathers...”
Only, I don’t think it is.
See, feathers mean it’s a flighty thing
And belie its true belligerence.
Hope may yet have feathers,
But forget not the claws.
Hope is a thing with brambles;
Hope has a tendency to stick in crops.
This little burr adheres to the underside,
Never noted unless poked.
It clings tightly in the smallest gap
And can’t be ignored once evoked.
Now, I grant you, Hope may seem rather rare,
But lay on your stomach at night; you’ll find that it’s there.
I haven’t written in a long time. It’s for a lot of reasons. Sometimes, I just don’t feel like I’m good enough. Sometimes, I lack inspiration. Poetry, as it was once said, “is the spontaneous overflow of human emotion.” And that’s what this was. I’m terrible at meter. I have to break out a dictionary to know how many syllables a word has. But following a conversation this morning regarding covid and human nature, this erupted from me in the space of 5 minutes. I haven’t changed it; I haven’t edited it. To the world, to the politicians, to those I love, this is the only message I have about the pandemic. Take it as you will. And thank you, as ever, to the extraordinary Emily Dickinson.
Mica Kluge Apr 2020
If you'll be the moon,
I will play the sea.
Wherever you go,
Love, call back to me.
It’s not about the leaving; it’s about the coming back. 4/17/2020.
Mica Kluge Apr 2019
I have found,
You can endure anything,
If you have to.

At first,
You think that you can’t make it until the next minute,
But,
Suddenly,
The next minute is upon you,
            then the next,
                     and the next.

At an agonizingly slow rate,
Those minutes will turn into years.

This is how you survive.
Mica Kluge Sep 2018
We are so quick to blame the familiar.
Once fault is laid,
then the matter may as well be settled,
and it becomes someone else’s responsibility
to atone for our faults.
After all, there is nothing so unfamiliar to a man
as his own self.
This didn't actually begin its life as a poem; it was an excerpt from a novel I'm working on.
Mica Kluge Sep 2018
Growing old is gracefully (or not)
accepting the passage of time.
Generally speaking,
you have no choice.

Growing up is being slapped
in the face with the understanding
that you must be the hero
you have been waiting on
your entire life.

Growing up and growing old -
there's a difference,
but both will break your heart.
For those of you who don't know me well, three of my favorite movies are Treasure Planet, Atlantis: The Lost Empire, and How to Train Your Dragon. The movies are very different in plot, so it took me a long time to figure out why I loved them so much (especially when I consider myself a bit old for most animated movies). I realized that the common thread is that, in each of these movies, the protagonists were looking for approval and a hero in those around one, and not finding one. So they decided to become their own hero. It was never really a conscious decision, but more of being pushed to the point in life where they realized that no one was going to save them and what they loved; they were going to have to fight for it. Having recently been pushed to that point in life, I understand and love these movies all the more. Rant over.
Mica Kluge Jun 2018
If I ever to do anything to excess,
I hope that it will be kindness
And not its antithesis.
I may only be human, but while I'm stuck doing that, I intend to do a decent job of it.
Mica Kluge Jun 2018
You wonder why you feel chained to your life - trapped in your circumstances. You just want to go, and you don’t know why.

I know why. The answer is easy when you’re not the question.

It’s because something long ago and far away has gotten its roots into your bones and you know - you just know - it will never let go.
Mica Kluge Mar 2018
The struggle
of being
a modern day prophet
is that you are ******
to see all of the things
that others can’t
and you can never
explain them
to anyone else
so no one else
understands
why you’re so sad.
Mildly mythological. In loving memory of some desperate souls who have gone before me.
Mica Kluge Feb 2018
If life is a war,
Remind me again which side
I am fighting for.
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