I write poetry in part because I was told from an early age that I had the mind of an artist; as it turned out, working with words was the only artistic medium where I felt capable. I write poetry to celebrate highs and mourn lows, to record and share some of what I've experienced and some of what I imagine.
The Upper Hand
When I was young my father and I fought;
it was early war.
In the moment he didn't care
if serrated words cut me
in ways that were hard to heal.
And I, with a Cro-Magnon skull,
smashed relentlessly into a wall that wouldn't give
with an instinct towards violence –
an instinct towards pain –
As he's aged his walls have crumbled, in places,
And I - like water –
to dart through the cracks.
It's a hollow sort of victory though –
breaching the walls of a ruined city
which you could never in your youth besiege.