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Heavy Medal

by Malika Bierstein

He’s in a punk bad, I know, not normally what I’d go for
in a man if you checked for the hip-hop in my soul,
but then again I just don’t know
how far the roots of his records reach
and I could use for a man to teach
me something useful once in a while,
not just digest my lips and my breasts,
my hips and my smile. It’s been a while
since I’ve met someone with such passion from blood to bone,
funk-induced style taking names
and sending people straight home. It inspired me
to pick up my pen and write
about a guy I barely know
and the places he’s been,
mysteries in broken pieces all picked up
and put back together again.

He’s a survivor, I can tell, has a well
of energy so strong and wet
it seems as though there’s a tsunami
about to burst like a dam from inside his chest
and hose you down. Make you check your head
and look around, remind you that you’re on solid ground
though the path is unsteady
and sometimes chaos is the only sound
that fills your head, lying in bed
wishing your reality was taking place
in your wildest dreams instead.
It’s an interesting life he’s lead, I’m sure,
sex drugs and now Mary Tyler Whore
setting the stage for something greater,
something more than a check to keep you alive,
pass the hours between 9 and 5,
a solid stepping stone but not quite the place
your feet are ready to call home.

He writes poems
and movies about life
imitating movies far more real
than your imagination’s ever seen,
life booming from the surround sound
stereo of your TV screen. And yeah,
he’s in a punk band, I know,
but I can vibe to anything
from Violent Femmes to James Brown’s soul
and I know he’s the type of man
who sets goals in sand and watches them turn to stone
though it’s hard and often cold
and sometimes your only salvation
is in the strings of bass in your right hand,
playing the blues to an audience of one
the best you can. Knowing it’ll be alright
if you just take that chance, trip and fall
and bust your ass on a smile, on the possibility
of someone real who just might stick around for a while.

04/27/2007

Posted on 04/27/2007
Copyright © 2024 Malika Bierstein

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