How wonderful it is
To feel giddy again,
To almost lose myself
In youthful joy.

He is a hero,
More so than I.
For while I too lost
A pint of blood today,
By choice,
He could remain on his feet.
He could lend a helping hand
And lead me back to my room
To drink,
To eat,
To rest,
And most of all,
To be well.

When he knocked at the door,
I offered him a cup of tea
And sent him politely away.
You see,
He asked for entrance to my heart.
But it was already occupied.

There is such joy in history to be found.
That rabbit trail you chase
Suddenly giving way to all you desired
Is the greatest feeling.
Now I'm reading the document
The started the cloth guild of Bristol
"in the 7th year of the reign of King Henry, the fourth since the Conquest"
And I cannot contain my happiness.

Why can I not have
The arms I seek?
Why do I not allow
Myself the comfort?
Why must I despise me?

Un pays d'occasion

Un pays d'occasion.
C'est les Étas-Unis.
Voilà un pays
Où un peut faire ce qu’on veut
On peut être presque toute
Ce que tu veux.
C'est un pays d'occasion.
Le peuple américain

Est formé par les peuples du monde.

Nous sommes fatigues,

Les pauvres, les faims,

Les âmes qui veulent la liberté

Mais ne le trouvent pas.

A Race Against Death to Cook Beans

It's easy for me to laugh.
I find such depth of simple joy
In so many things
I will live forever
Should laughter really add life.

Perhaps that is why I seek his company.
It so easy for him to make me laugh.
I can feel my days stretching onward
With every silly pun
And blood-sugar induced insanity.

I will make him laugh, too... 
It was a dark and stormy night,
It was a bright and balmy day,
(At the same time!)
When the dragon came to call!
DWAIN was large.
DWAIN was fearsome.
DWAIN also liked to take long walks on the beach, save his red M&M's for the Anti-Pacifist that lived on top of the mountain drinking the dew of the universe, and eat those little chocolate candies that are covered in nuts or something and come wrapped in that gold foil that everyone hates to rip so it takes super long to unwrap them but it is always gloriously worth it and don't try to say it's not.
Now, the Dragon Without An Interesting Name and his gummy worm soldiers
(Don't laugh,
They're scary,
Even only if you can't eat more than one at once)
Were on the hunt.
They victimized the villages!
They terrorized the towns!
They catastrophized the cities!
Could their hunger ever be satisfied?

But one brave and handsome traveler
Stood up before the fleet.
His face was washed;
His hair was brushed;
His suit was clean and neat
(His trusty iron frying pan
Lay at his dusty feet).

"Are you a Burglar?" shouted the giant dragon
(He hadn't quite learned to use his inside voice).
"I'm too tall to be a burglar," replied the traveler.
"Oh yeah," boomed the dragon. "I lost my sister's father's best friend's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate to a burglar once."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Thanks!" the dragon yelled. "Now I'm going to eat you!"

The large DWAIN lunged,
But the traveler didn't move a muscle.
He looked so cool
(Even without aviator sunglasses)
DWAIN had to pause mid-attack.

"I respect you, traveler," DWAIN bellowed. "So I will let you challenge me to keep your life.
Here, I think one of my soldiers has a sword you can borrow..."
"No, dragon," the traveler intoned with a sage vocal timbre.
He bent down slowly,
Heightening the dramatic tension,
And picked up his frying pan.
"I challenge you to cook beans!"

A gummy worm shouted "begin,"
And the field was all a flutter.
The gummy worms ran about in panic;
Many wished for beds of butter.
DWAIN scrambled about madly.
How was he to find some beans?
But the traveler sat down calmly
And polished his frying pan to a sheen.

Chaos had descended upon those that brought it
As DWAIN couldn't find a single can
Of that protein-laden legumes that come in tin.
But the traveler had no such worries.
He always was prepared
(He would later go on to single-handedly inspire Boy Scouts, Marines, and cat-owners everywhere, but that's a different poem).
He slowly built a fire,
Coaxed the flame to life,
While the soldiers dashed in circles.
They'd later taste like defeat.

DWAIN hollered, raised quite a clamor,
But the traveler merely opened his can
And poured the tasty deliciousness into his pan.
"It's not fair! Where am I supposed to find beans?"
The traveler shrugged. "You said I could challenge you."

As he watched the beans sizzle and pop,
DWAIN grew more and more irate.
"I didn't say-! I didn't say-!"
"Exactly!"
DWAIN started to turn red kinda like a strawberry or tomato but not like you wanted to eat him more like you were very concerned with his health and mental stability as any decent conscious being would be.
He wanted to breath fire (because almost all dragons can. Oh! I forgot to ask DWAIN if he thought it was cool humans can make water in our mouths.)
But he had already agreed to spare the traveler's life if he cooked beans,
So he held in the super hot breath.

When the traveler reached for his fork,
It all became too much to bear.
With a roar,
The Dragon Without An Interesting Name exploded in a puff of red glitter and fire.

A safe distance away,
The traveler shifted around his makeshift cooking pit,
Lifted a forkful of beans,
And murmured quietly, "cool guys don't look at explosions."

Someone give me a moment to breathe.
I want to feel air in my lungs.
I wish I hadn't wasted so much time before,
Burying my face in darkness.

Back where I belong.
Are there frustrations?
Are there stressors?
Of course.
That's how the world is.
But at least I like these problems.

Do You Hear the People Sing

There is something to be said
For a song that can reach down deep
And pull from your soul
And your blood
That fire that drives angry men
To change the colors of the world.

Home.
Am I here?
Do I care if I'm not?
Because these people are home to me,
Just as those I left are.
Does it matter
That I hate this city?

It's funny the desires you find
At night when it's dark
And late.
You had nothing but water
But the music's loud
And you feel so lonely
Even with a crowd
And truly kind people.

His voice is an anchor,
His eyes warm,
And you wish for something,
Anything,
To drive you into his arms.

But it's only for that moment.
The desire is gone as swiftly
As it came roaring in.
Yet there remains
That tiniest draw,
When he leans at your elbow
And whispers the name of the song.

Just when I think
I've felt a feeling
In all the ways it can be felt,
He does something new
And my heart trips over itself
For joy again
As it tries to come up
With conscious thought
That won't reveal
Just how much elation
His few words have wrought.

I have looked on the faces
Of the abused
Before now,
Almost for a year and a half,
And not cracked.
Yet it it quite another
To see her face,
To know there's a little one
Growing inside her,
And that the reason she's in this shelter,
Well, he knew that, too.

I will grow.
I will become better.
I will say ha!
To all the voices in my head
Telling me I've failed before I began.
Because I can do things.
I can succeed.
Watch me soar.

Elle est une rose

Mon meilleur ami,

Elle est une rose,

Une rose très rouge

Et très belle

Pour la premier éclore.

Elle a peur

Qu’elle a déjà fanée.

Mais ça n'est pas la vérité.