Devoted exclusively to the creative process. Here you will see photojournaling, poetry, prose, an occasional review--journaling or philosophical writing can be found on our other blogs. This is our attempt to use our imaginations. Enjoy!

Monday, April 30, 2007

Gabriel's Bane


A god won't do it,
but we in mortal guise
embrace the hurts taken and given without thought.
You decay in my mind,
a stray cat trapped in a sealed wall of bricks.
Your inconsistencies aren't poetic.
You've killed me inside.
My begging heart tries to say
yes- come hither, my love.
Take my soul into your calloused palms.
Let's ride, cowboy.
I can't lose you again.
Baby, I'm dead to the world.
Curled in your arms, I live again.

7 comments:

piktor said...

Enemy, I like this poem a lot.

*ItkUpiLLi* said...

My deartest Enemy, you can increase the temperature in hell and make absolut zero colder. You shake my soul and break my bones.

Enemy of the Republic said...

Friend, it is only the beginning. I am just starting to mine my soul for those damn nuggets.

cocaine jesus said...

sometimes, just sometimes, you show this remarkable talent for soul jarring poetry. and when you do, man alive it is so very satisfying.

Enemy of the Republic said...

Thanks CJ. It's like the Pentacostals say: when the holy ghost comes on me, I speak in tongues.

JohnB said...

superb enemy, or should I say, nosferatu?

Enemy of the Republic said...

Ha, ha, Johnb, you have no idea. Touche@!