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This is my dragon. He found me today.
He had been searching for me a long time.
I lost him many years ago when I was young.
I took a wrong turn. Some had called it life.
So many have died of what they call life,
In vain their dragons searching for them,
I know I am fortunate, unlike them—
My dragon found me and shared his fire with me
Before he breathed his last in the disguise
He had worn all these years calling for me
(Dragons who must hide must also die).
He opened his mouth as if to swallow me,
But only whispered his dream for me—
I forfeited flight when I ran from my dream
But I can still believe his dream in me.
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About the Author
R Allen Shoaf
EROTIC RECKONINGS, my second volume of poetry, can now be purchased from New Plains Press or from Amazon. My third volume, PIED-PIPER PHILOL
Trump's a broken sewer pipe, with hordes of rats (McConnell, Rubio, et al.) swarming all around to get their fix. The Republican party did this to America. The Republican party did this to our homeland. HRC and the Democrats are hardly perfect. But it's the Republicans who did this to us.
Since Muss-Trump-olini jutted his jaw out last night just like his model, while he stalked HRC on the stage threatening her like the good Fascist (d)ick(y)-tat-or he aspires to be, the Re-thug-li-goons are more committed than ever to cutting off their middle fingers to spite their faces! See also ...
As Comedy has mournfully cried Right-wingers have always lied— Lied about their taxes, To cover their axes— So now to their strumpet they’re tied. As Comedy will gnashingly note The ignorant do go vote For those who just hate ’em — (How they love to bait ’em!)— ...
Meditation on recent news stories about hating poetry
Another in my portfolio of poems on BEAUTIFUL WORDS
As confused as any about the gap / Dividing lust and desire, / You dread love / May be the loneliest of all / Self-deceptions …