The kettle-drum thrum of my heartbeat
Sends a plea for assault not retreat
My fingers splay then contract
My soul cries out to react
My brain cautions with threat of defeat.
The red rose of rage tattoos my skin
My lips tighten from full into thin
My round eyes narrow to slits
My placid stomach has fits
I breathe deep, try to gin up a grin.
This time no grin or bowing my head
This time the fireworks flash instead
Caution succumbs to folly
I blast off with my volley
And depart with my ego well fed.
(Written for dVerse Poets, Meeting the Bar, Emotion in Poetry. April 3, 2014.)