Metal and Rubber
By: Tyler Ross
I store realism behind eyes
Where frozen life moments can guide
Truth shutters in seconds
Reckoned and maneuvered and finalized
I hang in the balance like a pendulum still
I play with my sights like a kite, chasing them up a glass hill
Windmill Play
By: Tyler Ross
He burns bright through atmospheric matter
Free falling into passion, a screaming reaction
Letting the clouds manifest a steady ladder
Words won’t gather, for there is no sight of the ground
His hair whips against the weather leaving an aggressive hissing sound
Non-violent, he let’s the birds hold his trust
Thrusts his hands out and accepts the power of the wind’s gust
Not afraid, he opens up his mouth
Spinning in circles as he let’s go down south
No parachute, no wings, a life without strings
Diving, diving, an end supported by no means
An alarm clock buzz, the sound of an interruption
A trampoline bed bounce cushion obstruction
No sweat, no panic, no crinkles to his face
He flicks the light on, but rolls back over with haste
Mumbling, discontent, and mystified
For once in his life, he knew what it felt to feel alive
