My Hope In A Hand Grenade in Poetry is the Window to the Soul...

And sometimes the inspiration comes from a jumbled mess of what is and what is not the truth in the middle..

“My Hope In A Hand Grenade”

The curtain falls
Revealing weathered glass
Littered with streaks of hope
And cracks mounting
Living inside this painted glass
Of sacred times long since passed
The old panes barely hanging
As if they somehow know
The mountain I’ve been carrying

Tell me, Sky, as I see you now
Which way next shall the wind blow?
I’ll follow her faithfully
Bathing in her vortex; shouting
Of life and of love
Until she falls apart
Or shall that be me?
Ah, fuck it, who’s really counting?

Just take me away from here
Into the bluest sky or
Into the dark of theater
Anywhere, darling
Except the black heart hole
That is my now
That is my here
Just point me, darling, and I’ll run
I will follow the wind
As she rolls along
Admiring her wayward charm
Without pattern
Without fear
My hope in a hand grenade
Liquid courage enough
To pretend to heal
Yet not near enough
To want to deal

My course is set
On the shoulders of wind
Between a gust and a mist
You can almost reach out and touch
The stars in the night
You feel everything
Impossible to resist
You eye a whole new world
Never seen so well
And never felt so small
She’s soft in her breathing
She is so beautiful

There’s warm waters in the Gulf
A birthplace to fear
That Category Five and I
Hopeless am I
I can see her from the Square
She will be my final cut
My darling grim reaper
On this fated collision
Target locked, no escape
From her bands of attrition
I left my heart in New Orleans
Left my soul in the Cathedral
All that remains
Is a cheap, green bottle
And a brown bag of shame
Things have never been quite so
Un(Ever)clear

Honestly, though, I really don’t mind
I accept my The Ending
As it draws ever nearer
Because I can’t stand to make
Even just one more truly important
Fucking bad decision

You will be my last
Heartbreaking mistake
I promise you that
For Forever
For Always
I promise you
I promise you
I promised you forever!
And all I got was a lot
Of broken promises
And stolen good years..

© Brian Milici
March 4, 2015

May you always find your smile.