"firefights" poems
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inspired by a conversation with Maira Kalman
strap on a name, adopt a persona, let my fingers do the talking,
place the instrumental sharp point tip upon the blankety blank paper,
maestro baton raised, coordinating,
the first sound, the vocal chords trembling,
the first thought, the ultrasound image, entrance of a first violin,
coalescing into, into the initializing single primary phonation,
the stinging geometry of chance at last,
throwing down the gauntlet, glove slapping, and the
tendons tense, the mouth opens, release and indentation,
a letter's curvature, a black and white downward stroking,
a sign is televised, revealed and released
a one way only sign
time bends knee, gravity suspended, terror morphs to
expelling rapid firefights of imagery needy for spacing,
even pauses mid-word leave just this:
where is the in in
intimate?
are you the in in
inmate,
or the jailor at the gate?
you swear never again
until committing once more,
a sentence commutation, by committing a first sentence,
and the greater toll taken and paid for,
and the in in in-nate,
questions your sanity
happily
<•>
9/17/17 10:55pm
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 3:47 PM UTC
For Sam Cook and Michael Lee
While standing at Marshall and 140th
the lightning over the horizon begs me to come to it
it's like the flickering streetlights, seeming like silent firefights,
simply asking to be looked for.
When I still elementary,
I used to watch the sky as the bolts shocked the earth
and I'd count:
one
two
three
Until I heard the boom and crack of thunder
three miles away, at least, the fourth graders said each second was a mile
it could have been true, it could have not, yet still I watch the light.
The flickering of the fading streetlamp tells me that this moment is not going to last forever
that it will not be heavenly or touchable, but it is there
and it wants you to touch the light as it flickers like a strobe light
like kids playing with the tabs of flashlights
and like the first discovery of light switches
and I'm reaching out so far.
Trying to grab hold of a piece of simplicity,
of normal,
of what I can always find:
Mistakes and wounds
and trying to hold on
Because lately, it seems like the only places we want to flicker are in the clubs.
Standing on a planet where illness and difference are cause enough to torch cities.
We like to light the fires and we like to watch them burn,
but we could care less about what their burning
and it seems like the dark ages came and stayed,
But like tributes to Guy Fawkes say:
*A man can be killed and forgotten,
but four hundred years later an idea can still change the world*
So I think as I stand at that intersection
watching the streetlights and the night's light bulbs flicker on and off like the light in my head
I can feel my fingertips prickle and I seize that moment to reach for the lamppost and final destination
those kids are flipping tabs faster and faster
my hair is at attention
and I can feel the race.
For a second,
everything slows down.
The streetlight stops flickering as my fingertips come upon it
and the lightning illuminates the sky
I can feel the breeze push my hair to this minutes path
and for a second,
I have something.
I pull my fingers away from the light and it returns to its flicker
the lightning fades away
and the boom comes in.
And here, standing at what once for me was Marshall and 140th
I realize,
that all I have
is all
I'll ever claim to know
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 6:48 AM UTC
We rode the endless plains
in supercharged
armored people carriers,
rolling like thunder
wasting not time,
which seemed to stand still
during the firefights.
We baked like sardines
in our metal box.
Some days,
we faced the wind
from the turret,
others away from it,
from the smell of burning flesh,
those dead pakoled-foxes.
We rode the endless plains
in supercharged
armored people carriers,
rolling like thunder
wasting not time,
which seemed to stand still
during the firefights.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
There’s nothing left where this iron man once stood
At one time beasts roamed the body that’s breaking
Firefights and lacerations fed monsters
Circumstances unavoidable had known it would
Jasper always fought for what he thought should
Be wrestled for. The bruises and bullets.
His thoughts went somewhere one time but it seems
There’s nothing left where this iron man once stood
Liberty spikes, leather coats did what they could
But they couldn’t protect the Wilde man’s mind
The thousand foot stare is setting in now
Circumstances unavoidable had known it would
There’s nothing left where this iron man once stood
The Man broke the punk, Jasper Wilde gave up
Circumstances unavoidable had known he would
Jun 13, 2011
Jun 13, 2011 at 10:50 AM UTC
Drilled and enforced
You're nothing but
Dependent and controlled
And you like being told
Humanity uncloaked
Firefights stoked
Denial is justice
Denial of malice
You're the children
of hammered satire
Automatons on fire
Automatons and liars
You run around the world
But you're not asunder
You're the atlas too
The weight is on your shoulder
Prententious thoughts
Remembrance is fraught
Denial is justice
Denial of malice
You're the children
of limbless desire
Automatons on fire
Automatons and liars
And thats all you are
All flesh and bone
Only an automaton
Only an automaton
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
Fire! Thunder! Lightning! Rain!
The Beast is approaching
We’ve come here for fame
Firefights flashing
For victory or shame
Stray bullets roaming
They search for a name
I feel the ground shaking
The snipers take aim
Auditory vibrations
Echoes from the grave
Oh Father who art in Heaven,
Save us this day!
Blasts cascading!
Explosive points made…
IT’S COMING!! FIRE! FIRE AT WILL!!
THE TIME HAS NOW COME TO **** OR BE KILLED!!
Blood seeps from the ground
Dead bodies are floating
Pools of death
The prophets are screaming
The sky goes dark
The wind has stopped blowing
I look at my chest
I see that I’m bleeding
Doctor, DOCTOR! SAVE ME…I’m pleading!!
This wound is too deep
These hills are too steep
We all feared the day
We were slaughtered like sheep
This vessel is broken
This wound sits wide open
Recall to yourselves
The words that were spoken
When will it fall?
Why are we failing?
How is it winning?
God take me!
I'M FADING!!
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 9:23 PM UTC
Rhythmically reducing time
for you
for I.
Coagulation increasingly lessens the beat.
Off-written and wrecked,
We can’t turn home as
Junkies and
Dealers.
This home,
Washed out in familial gossip of relapse and resurge
After our firefights
Against venomous appetites.
Yet here we light this pipe, you and I,
With a reprise of shell-shocked war stories
Reanimating the grind
Of addiction’s battle.
Promise by the world,
A mind’s conviction and a 12-step program
Would naturally manifest in abstinent purity
And after,
Serenity.
Through the itch
Still
We are lumbering on, yet raging.
Violently insisting that these dreams are vouched for and
Stances held
Should leave our slicked soles immobile.
Smooth winds crinkling past twigs
And I with you, my dealer,
Am a lubricated branch on smooth-weathered granite grade.
In descent I tear at the throat with embarrassed tears.
Cries that only slicken the stone.
So of it, I swallow what will fill,
And beg you to do the same.
As fingernails rip from flesh
In grip of a still frame I can hear the 12-step program bid out again.
“Let there be sweat till the clouds run red.
Let trailing beads glisten while
I the blossom
Begin budding in the fall.”
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 12:00 AM UTC
When we think of hero
We think of super hero
Like bat man or
captain america
Or super man
Hero
Hero
When we think of hero
We think of super hero
Like bat man or
captain America
Or super man but what
is hero mean
Is when you save
someone life
There is hero around
us like cops
Or firefights or paramedics
And even if you save
someone of jumping of a
building you are a hero
So thank you all.
© Amanda Kay Hill
10/ 28/16
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 11:00 PM UTC
there's this feeling i get
after firefights
when shells are still reeling
across the ice
and i'm still a little
blind and deaf
but the world's crystal clear
and i could just
crash to the ground and
cry like a kid
because fighting for you
kept me alive again
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 11:08 PM UTC