Courting Anger: A Writing Prompt

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I’m encouraged to channel my anger, 

to sit with it. Take it to tea. 

“So, you’re real,” I’d say, half looking away, hoping it would not take note of me. 

“Is this about the table I bought you for Valentine’s Day?” I’m sure it would respond, looking at me in its superior way. “Because I was sick of looking at the other one,” it’d quip. 

Sigh. Seeing its sad state of insight

and a lack of rhythm or kind goal,

“I release you,” I’d murmur, feeling more self-assured, “but I’ll take back my eyes, mind and soul.” 

August Against The Red

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Only for me, look up at the black?

Count by 1000’s as you brush your jaw.  Be warm?

When you kick up your legs and close your eyes, recount to me the silver you saw?

Oh say, did you find the quiet I lost as August echoed against the red?

Electric Still

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I slid into the city from the valley and

Saw then felt the flash of who I am

Now and 

All those years ago

I am electric and

I make mountains offer dares

They hope I’ll accept 

But don’t believe I will

Unknowingly I do and 

I did

It rained warm on me there

I smelled ozone and

Stared at the tallest peak hoping

For one more dare

I left with my eyes down

Electric still

Then looking East