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Alex Fontaine Feb 27
Colossal arms catch the radiant sun,
Giants rooted in tree shrouded hills,
I smile at them till my workday is done,
Sun soaring above as we pay the bills,
Pompously colossal and full of drive,
I look up at them looking down at me,
Laboring away beneath resplendent skies,
With the spirit of Jesus and Don Quixote,
We sally forth into the teeth of fate,
Wielding noble visions of how life should be,
No effort too small nor sacrifice too great,
Not to impale self to self upon Odins tree.
And the hills turn to dust, dust turns to earth,
The void collapses, the sun burns away,
And I’m left to question what our needs are worth,
Smiling at windmills till the end of the day.
Alex Fontaine Nov 2018
Alone,
Above frozen hills and icy forest,
Finding definition through separation,
A dark island in a white sky,  
Coming closer.

The eyes first- burning beads of life,
Searching for death and opportunity,
Blazing terrifying focus,
Coming closer.

The sound next- quiet rush of primaries,
Hiss of bone and feather slicing frozen air,
Whisper of the wolds wild goddess,
A knife blade.

Cutting holy air like I cut myself,
Soul slicing distinctions and definitions,
Of happiness and loneliness,
And he leaves me,
Alone.
Lately I’ve been thinking that the more a person separates their body from their mind, the more dependent they become  on society to tell them who they are. The raven suffers from no such illusion of separation between body, mind, and soul., and is enough in itself.

“A man is happy if he finds praise and friendship within himself. You can never be sure of where you stand in someone else’s heart.”  -Havamal 8
Alex Fontaine Apr 2018
I feel
Like a square hat
Well defined edges
Sharp corners
Sturdy
Everything a hat should be
Except worn
Alex Fontaine Sep 2017
If you cannot place your ear to the earth and hear its quiet hum,
Or watch the seasons change like the beating of a drum,
Or feel your spirit seeping like mycellium into the universe,
How can you place judgement upon the intensity of my experience?

Your plastic entanglements could not withstand the brutal inciciveness of my pesonality,
Which you so desperately need me to change,
Clawing as you plunge into the abyss,
Firmly bound to the social edifice.

I am sorry for your pain but this is not my knife,
I cannot heal what is not broken.
I will apologize for my life,
When you make amends for your sin.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christopher_Thomas_Knight
Alex Fontaine Sep 2017
"Oh yeah? Did you **** anybody?"

Is what people ask when they see
smeared across my past
like a bloodstains on a white sheet
US Marine
Iraq
twice

And they cant understand the answer
because they cant understand the question

“I really think you got that guy man!
We should radio back and get you
a confirmed ****!”

“Im pretty sure I shot that guy in the back.”

"******* Miller and Johnson are dead."

And I never knew what to say to my friends
Because I was busy doing mental math
Emotional equations
In their eyes

How many more times they could be blown up
Before they were unreliable

Divide the fear with rage
Because you had a job to do
Someone had to get in the truck
And push the fragile blindfolded bodies back
With his boot so he could sit down
below the armor
away from the snipers

And one of them was shaking
it was cold
And his cowering skinny teenage body shook
It was like mine had been not long ago
For the whole convoy
three hours

And I carry these memories in the same tissues as the ones
that carry my sleeping infant son
nuzzled against my chest
under a blanket
warm
safe

Some of us let them spill out of our veins
Onto bathroom floors
In ditches and alleys
car wrecks
shaking

Any good devildog prefers the screams of the dying
to the screams of the living.

And the math keeps coming out negative
When I equate the cost of our
cell phones candy wrappers
vibrators golf courses
with
https://www.amnestyusa.org/pdfs/sscistudy1.pdf

And I subtract the dark areas of my mind
From what can be filled with love
And am still at war.
Please be nice to me.
This took a long time to write.
Alex Fontaine Sep 2017
If and when I return,
I would like to be an earthworm.
Consciousness buried deep in dark ground,
Embraced by the stone silent earth.
To suffer neither hunger nor lust,
Cold or greed.
To toil ceaselessly and timelessly,
To sacrifice myself blindly to sun or bird.
If not to be spared the pains of death,
Then at least those of life.
Alex Fontaine Jul 2017
Happy words like tears,
Soak into the page.
Sad words like sunbeams dry them away.
So clean and so clear,
Like animal rage.
Everybodys got a poem poem...
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