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Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Knife

My Friends are all Rogues


Beside him was an empty throne

My friend, my friend he's got a knife
A statement from his former life
When he was easy but alone
Beside him was an empty throne
But what of silver silken blade
Affix his gaze, his features staid
Grasps the handle, clips the cable
One steps up, sits at his table
My friend, my friend, he's got a knife
My friend, my friend, he's got a wife

My friend, my friend, the clever ruse
Persuasion through his thoughts peruse
A hidden relic from his past
That wasn't there when he looked last
He feels it ticking like a bomb
Feeding fear, assaulting calm
Takes the object, starts the game
Moves it closer to the flame

My friend, my friend, the clever ruse
My friend, my friend, he lights the fuse

My friend, my friend, he's got a knife
My friend, my friend, he's got a knife
My friend, my friend, he's got a knife

1 comments:

Anonymous said...

I Am Offering This Poem

I am offering this poem to you,
since I have nothing else to give.
Keep it like a warm coat,
when winter comes to cover you,
or like a pair of thick socks
the cold cannot bite through,

I love you,

I have nothing else to give you,
so it is a pot full of yellow corn
to warm your belly in the winter,
it is a scarf for your head, to wear
over your hair, to tie up around your face,

I love you,

Keep it, treasure it as you would
if you were lost, needing direction,
in the wilderness life becomes when mature;
and in the corner of your drawer,
tucked away like a cabin or a hogan
in dense trees, come knocking,
and I will answer, give you directions,
and let you warm yourself by this fire,
rest by this fire, and make you feel safe,

I love you,

It's all I have to give,
and it's all anyone needs to live,
and to go on living inside,
when the world outside
no longer cares if you live or die;
remember,

I love you.

Jimmy Santiago Baca

 

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