Tag: Love

Poetry · Writing

Angel of Two Fruits – Stainless Steel

SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

I carry you with me everyday.

Find you in between the lines of each poem

in the songs I write and a god will smite

if I ever do wrong.

before me walks an angel

an angel of two fruits

and one bite, I was hers-

the sour outer to ward away the weak

until the sweet middle hold my tongue unable to speak.

Walking alone to the store

her shadow will hold my hand

and all the noise

with her the heart feels slow

a necklace of turbulence

a ring of the past

shoes of yesterdays choices

all these accessories

you’re the chain that never breaks

stainless steel one hell of a meal

and one day they’ll take a picture of me down on one knee.

Weightless around my neck

never in anything Aztec

sheltered from the storm, low-tech

rising above the rift and diving on the raft, high-tech

never taking a day off- never needing a rain check

the one and only, cashing in that pay-check.

Poetry · Writing

Sixteen Fears

SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

I asked my buddy once

what he does to calm himself down.

He is an angry guy and he doesn’t get into fist fights

that I know of

so he must have a trick.

He told me he counts

s l o w l y

lowers his heart beat before he Hulks out.

After publicly laughing

and secretly taking notes

I tried it at home;

One, number of episodes I’ve seen of Ferrigno’s Hulk.

Two, number of times I had to convince myself that I’m not losing it before actually giving this a chance.

Three, pick up sticks.

Four, the number of times I thought about calling the love of my life and not doing it because I don’t want to be a bother.

Nine, worries I’ve given before reminding myself that she loves me and I need to escape the narrowing halls of my own mind.

Sixteen,

Eighteen, the year I decided to burn the world down from a water tower.

Twenty-two, the damn Taylor Swift song that will probably test time.

Sixty-nine,

Eighty-three, letters it takes for me to confess that I don’t want to roam this earth without you by my side.

One hundred and forty-three, It’ll be okay, as long as you know that you’re worth it and won’t give in to every single hick up even though your mortal self can’t help it.

Here, I learn he doesn’t deal with anger,

it’s the way to talk out his own insecurities.

Mine showed their tattooed faces at the first sign of a rain drop

no forecast of showers

towers blocking the sun

gun cocked to my own forehead

dread as I lower my own arm;

One hundred and forty-four, one day these worries will mute, the button is jammed in the remote but it’ll pop out, just have to keep counting.

Poetry · Writing

My Hero

SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

Flipping channels

through all these different success stories

a chance to make a life

to be someones

either through blood

or opportunity.

Them being their, doesn’t mean they’re the best

waiting for the next great to pick up that shield

a Captain is always on the way.

I watch, knowing someone who sings better

paints better

and at the age of four

I learned that people are not born equal

death is a guarantee

and failure is a privilege,

not all of us see the stars.

So will flip channels

pretend that these people never scaled that mountain

and reached

even for a second

to be someones hero;

even if they can’t see the same stairs

or know how to walk

those heroes reach an arm out

lend an ear see the sea smell the breeze

they’ll be there for tough times

sing their song

end their show

with us in our living room

thank you

 

 

but I’ll be their one day

with all my might.