feel it

total acceptance
of the moment
and everything in it,
feel it,
know it,
glow it alive,
inside out with your heart,
blow the flame
into the glass,
make it drip sweat
and sear with end of steel rod,
seeing red,
sparks golden,
metal molten,

and blame no outside agency
no person
or institution
or idea
or convention for what you find here;
blame nothing,
just be with it,
blazing light into your secret, sodden places

the ones you dread

we are the chosen ones,
the illegitimate sons,
the incested daughters,
the smudged faces
of orphans,
kicking a dirty soccerball
through dusty, drunken lots.

we hold a secret
deep down in our shirts,
a midnight cry, a city scream,
a heart-hurt,
like an M-80 frozen
halfway through explosion.

we are the ones you dread,
the same ones you put hope in;
for we will find our way,
and in finding ours, we will find the map
for you to
find yours.