Archive for October, 2013

Who Does Superman Wait For?

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , on October 31, 2013 by bigtuna185

Who does Superman wait for
In the still of the night
Waiting by some deserted subway station,
Probably needing a cigarette for his nerves
Or anxiously checking his phone?

What is it that causes a being
That moves faster than a speeding bullet
To pause his life,
Put on hold the shrieks for help that
Constantly claw at his mind,
To ignore the values of truth, justice, and the American way
Just for one night?

Why is it that a man of omnipotence,
Capable of doing anything, of being anything,
Would choose to be at rest
For even five minutes at a time?

How is it that someone that has
Been to other worlds,
Saved other worlds,
Is from another world,
How is it that he would stop his world
In order to patiently wait upon
Unsleeping streets for a chance rendezvous?

I would like to know that kind of power,
To make the Man of Steel
Melt down to his base components,
An element more powerful than kryptonite.
His body is alien, but his feelings are not,
More human on the inside than most that are homegrown.

Being all-powerful must get lonely sometimes too,
And so there he finds himself at 4am
Rooted to a street corner in forced vulnerability,
Facing the thrill of an uncertain future.

For one brief moment, I can see more than him,
But still, the mystery remains, and I have to wonder,
Who does Superman wait for?

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Your Hands

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 30, 2013 by bigtuna185

Your hands are my favorite things about you.
Some might think it strange
That such a feature would take precedence,
Which isn’t to say that
Your eyes don’t soothe and allay wounds,
Warming cold hearts like a crackling fireplace;
Nor is it to say that
Your smile doesn’t gleam like the opalescent moon,
Powerful, alluring, enchanting a soul to the very core;
And one cannot simply forget about
Your voice, gentle, yet certain;
An overture driving and lilting at the same time.
Nay, it is those appendages that can
Wave and grasp, craft and smooth over,
These extensions of yourself speak most of yourself
Because of what they are able to create.
Dexterous fingers delay destruction with
The stroke of a pen
The swipe of a brush
The caress of a cheek.
Helen possessed the face that launched a thousand ships,
And there is no doubt that yours rivals hers,
But without the hands to build such vessels,
Her beauty would have faded
Long before anyone reached her.
For while your fair face makes a life easier to endure,
It is only your hands that can carry me through.

Pedestal

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , on October 30, 2013 by bigtuna185

Floating continents
Drifting passively, content;
Mocking earthbound souls.

Blitzkrieg

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on October 14, 2013 by bigtuna185

My anguish lies internally
But the scars seep through my skin
I wonder when the torture ends
Will I ever breathe again?

For sights and sounds, your face and voice,
Are magnified through this lens
That heart and soul and blood escape
With each word this author pens

Undefined and confused, a terrible ruse
Why play tricks without intent to jest?
These unpredictable inconsistencies do wear thin
The instrument that beats beneath my breast

Say the word and make it so,
Or end the suffering and decline
I cannot bear this hollow pain,
Possessing you, yet you are not mine

The fault is not yours, it is mine alone
A glutton for punishment am I
The risks and conditions were clearly expressed,
I hoped my advances would not be denied

Time, you are the enemy, my heart’s rival
But my strength and resolve are no worse
It is my burden to bear, and I, grateful to carry
You are my greatest gift, and also my curse.

Whisperer

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , on October 3, 2013 by bigtuna185

Unbridled, untamed, and free
Sprinting unashamed in the wind
Twisted wild mane flowing
Soft grassy hills imprinted with footsteps
A trail to be tracked by bold explorers
A dangerous prize awaits at journey’s end

You reign over your territory
Like a paranoid queen upon her throne
Eyes darting crazily
Expecting sabotage
Awaiting assassination
Sentencing hearts to their doom because of troubled pasts

Where is your saintly knight to ease a sorrowed mind?
Where is the whisperer to break the shell of mistrust?
To gently brush your hair?
To adorn you with the fittings suitable for so majestic a creature?
Bestowing hushed tones and hope to break a haughty spirit

May he always nobly serve you
In humility, in gratitude, in encouragement, and in love
The whisperer will never forsake you, troubled maiden
For he will forever be the voice in your ear
The song in your heart
And the light in your soul.