Burst – Saladin





Dear Saladin.

I am not young anymore.

I am not your revolution spirit.

Not the thrust of your steel.

Nor the burning of your star.

I receive your letters still.

Words are undimmed.

A grave red-handed battle

Is what you propose.

A sorcery that makes the spite

To which we are drawn.



Dear Saladin.

We spread across the seas.

In pairs that are waves.

I am your eyes if you wish it.

I am your tongue if you want it.

A promise of poverty

And a vibration like peace,

These songs are from you.

Pulled from one heart.

Culled from one battle.

The demise of people is

Where you dwell, and forever will.



Dear Saladin.

I curl under the subject of stars.

They are matter and heat.

But you said they are eyes

Looking upon me with grace.

I am raging faulty flame

Quenched again when I burn.

I am that cry like your scream

But this is just a whimper.

I am that flame flying mad

That hurtles into the ocean.



Dear Saladin.

Let me cut your heart

In three pieces for the gods,

The Subtle, the Damned, the Trembler.

I am at their feet, chewing bones

Of you my savior once and again.

But the gods cry in the heat of your end

And I on the ground, search for stars

The ones where you were born

The ones you came from and brought down

To heat the words that are gone now.


Dream hard, rage hard.

8 thoughts on “Burst – Saladin

  1. It’s very interesting in a good way. I’d like to read Salidin’s letters to Richard as well. Talking in persona is probably my favorite genre in poetry. It’s the thing that make Spoon River Anthology great and you have so much more freedom if they are dead. Best KB

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