An Ice Sculpture by David M. Myles

I caught a glimpse
As the light hit your face
In just that way

As sunlight through ice

Bringing to mind
Roses and chocolate
Love’s enticements
Like your eyes
Reflecting all
Drinking the day
Shining with joy
Dancing with mischief
A portrait in blue
Almost a song
A moment frozen
In the depths of my soul

As fleeting as memory

Ice sculptures
Melt away
In the days harsh light

I have lost the ability to be embarrassed by emotions

The nice thing about having words …
is you can actually express to your
self what is going on inside your head…

What’s wrong with tears?
Sometimes they are my
only friend.
I used to hate crying
Especially in front of people
the ability, or indeed,
the opportunity to
feel that deeply should
be respected and honored
but it is where that
embarrassment comes
from, others seeing you
genuinely feel
and I never got that
I always found it beautiful
even while feeling the
odd shame of seeing
someone else feel
and give in to it
for them I weep
for joy


I have been an anarchist
back when I was kind
and the sun was a little brighter
I wandered but not lost
just looking
I found kind people picking through the trash
for something to eat
old friends in a dry wash
completely out of context
looking for wood for a cook fire
new friends hiding their children from
your society’s grasping fingers
All on the edge of things
where piles of tires burn
black smoke into the air
shacks in the desert
with the floor dug out
so if the random shot were fired
it would be occasionally
over head so you can
sleep safely
barring ricochet
This is America
freedom isn’t kind to the truly free
it’s not even really free
that is a dream
like believing in god
a thought barrier
you need go no furthur
you’re free
don’t even think about it
no reason to
it’s a base notion
from base men
so few people actually build their world
most move into a vacancy in
the no tell motel
with vibrating beds
and a hourly rate
and a two dollar deposit on the towels
I just use the shower there
while the whore rifles my wallet
and slip out the back window
looking for an honest hot spring
where I could actually feel clean
I can do liberal
As long as I get to keep my rifle
a man’s gotta eat
out here on the edge
of America



David M. Myles describes himself a poet philosopher and gentleman adventurer.  He is a practiced poet and advocate of the arts but most importantly: a kind soul.


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