Hero hope is my Heroin


I was at the hive of wonder – the fast slow – the up down, and all around, and still I was unable to change much about you, they or anyone – none of the rock solid resolves of the world wanting to want what they wanted. “But I am a magician” I said to the face in the mirror, “I have billion dollar hankers, and gold rimmed glasses – I can see in and out of any eye, but have no absolute power to explain much, if anything…”

I was in a corridor of power, loving my manipulative heartaches, and sending haunt thoughts into tiny crevices. I was “Reach” I was “Pull” I was “Glory Man,” with all of the proper in betweens of a berserker. I shaped mountains, and melted ancient water frozen for a thousand years – and all I ever revealed was my ability to delude myself. I wish I were an angel, but I cannot be without the tickle feather of youth.


I was at the top of an apex – a speech exhorting – a grand slam winner – an obese tie breaker, but I still lost the “Big Game,” and was diminished by the fight – was sorry the morning after, wished I had made a different choice the next day after my disaster. But by then, there was no one left to accept my apologies, even the spirit tenders were at a loss for how to cure the affliction of my cankers…

I was in the body of a human laughing. I was in the heart of a long past memory. I was earthbound and suffering the largest of human follies, and still I muffled the earths cries with my pretty words, and I painted her with gray metaphors, and I lashed her, and bound her, and trod upon her with the boots of my hubristic armies – still maintaining and saying to everyone who might listen, follow me, and we’ll find God, and better hereafters…

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2 responses to “Hero hope is my Heroin

  1. This takes my breath away. I love it all, especially the last stanza. Yes, if you can figure how to record your voice and post your reading here, that would be awesome. I’ve seen other people do it on blogs, but I don’t know how. I’m imagining your voice, and I do think it comes through very well in the written word, though. The repetition that builds throughout the entire piece is wonderful.

  2. I didn’t love this the way I love a lot of your poems. I’m sure there’s reasons, but it did make me wonder what you were thinking of, what you saw and heard and observed in the hours before you created it.

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