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Ian Minto Poem
from birth you’re taught to fight and kill
to always get your prey.
you track and stalk, but be still
lest she get away.
and though you check the wind for scent,
oh, you must be clever.
for still you stop to shade your eyes,
because nothing fights forever.
so rest, tiger, hurt with me
and let me stroke your fur.
for just as sure as you can growl,
i know that you can purr.
and yes, you’re strong! and yes you’re proud!
and yes, you leave me speechless!
but know this, my fierce, fierce friend,
like me you have a weakness.
your teeth are sharp, your claws more so,
you’re bred to rise above.
but what i chase is sharper still,
and nothing hurts like love.
so rest, tiger, hurt with me,
and let me stroke your fur.
for just as sure as you can growl,
i know that you can purr.
i wont ask much, i promise you.
who cares how this will end.
for here, and now, i’m hurt more
by those i called my friends.
so share your shade, and share your seat
with this foolish stranger.
i’ll play nice, one more time,
though i know the danger.
so rest, tiger, hurt with me,
lets watch the sun just swell.
and you can growl, or you can purr.
but i will talk of hell.
Copyright © Ian Minto | Year Posted 2008
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Ian Minto Poem
Oh, lovely boy, what is it that you desire?
To incite the rage of man, and set the world afire?
Redraw the map and claim your crown?
For no pursuit is higher?
What a web of dreams you dream,
the kingdom of a spider.
Oh, lovely boy, how soundly could you sleep?
If you've heard the prayers I've heard, and seen the women weep.
Redraw the map and claim your crown?
And ALL the gold, you'll keep?
What a tragic hole you dig,
you'll never know how deep.
Oh, lovely boy, want words of mine to hear?
Drop the sword from calloused hands, and hold a woman dear.
Redraw the map and claim your crown,
with your Queen that will be near.
For nothing more is precious in life,
than wiping joy caused tears.
Copyright © Ian Minto | Year Posted 2008
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Ian Minto Poem
oh! how my demons rage. they howl and scream, and always seem to get what
they must crave. i stand a child before the storm, plastic sword in hand. to fight
the fight i cannot win, to make another stand. and every day, in every way, was
harder than the last. how melancholy this life is, when drowned amidst my
laughs...i stand a child, before the storm, and hear my demons call. what good
are prayers and teddy bears to little boys at all...
Copyright © Ian Minto | Year Posted 2008
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Ian Minto Poem
Oh, yes my dear, I've left my post.
No captain is at the wheel,
and we are surely far from the coast
in my attempt to steal
myself from the truth my beautiful ghost,
for I know this isnt real.
But I can tell by your smile what you want most
is a kiss to seal the deal.
And I'll always remember how this will seem
the most lovely of star sprinkled skies.
Though this is not what you would deem
a memory of our lives.
And yes I know, too well, what you mean,
when, softly, you say goodbye.
Until once again I dream this dream,
and you are by my side.
Copyright © Ian Minto | Year Posted 2008
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