Aidan Clevinger Poems
|1.||On My Knees||6/15/2009|
|3.||See The Light||6/15/2009|
|9.||Playing With Fire||6/15/2009|
|14.||The Martyr's Poem||6/15/2009|
|16.||What I Need||6/15/2009|
|18.||Trying To Be Somebody||6/15/2009|
|19.||Names And Photographs||6/15/2009|
|24.||What We Seek||6/15/2009|
|30.||I'Ll Remember You||6/17/2009|
|32.||These Words Of Mine||6/17/2009|
|39.||By The Waters Of Venice||7/15/2009|
Benchwarmer (Getting Benched Again)
My nose is bloody, my knuckles, too,
And my jersey's covered in mud.
I don't know who I thought I was kidding,
Trying to be some romantic stud.
Curse these stinking pads,
Get this helmet off my head.
My back feels like I'm eighty years old,
My feet feel made of lead.
She popped the ball out from my arms,
I never had a chance.
Sprawled on the ground I watched her run;
Chalk six up for Failed Romance.
I'm sick of playing this stupid game,
At least while she's still playing it.
This had to happen sooner or later,
There's no point in...
See The Light
I understand the importance of theological discussions, but I'm saddened by the hatred that so often goes into them.
These wars of ideology,
Shall be our untimely death.
How many vicious accusations!
How many wasted breaths!
They really are quite pointless,
No one changes their mind.