Standing in the Storm

author’s note:

We need more nervous heroes in our movies and TV shows.


STANDING IN THE STORM

Apocalyptic movies reveal:

how we thrill to imagine
some mad cataclysmic event
that sends the planet's populace running
willy-nilly--arms flailing--
through streets rocking wildly
from the rush of that panic.

But of course
those movies also reveal
our wish to be
the hero and heroine
who face the burl of fire and storm
and refuse to waver.

At story’s end
having saved the metropolis--
the nation--the world
we stand with them
in the ashes of the aftermath
and lift our eyes to the hope
of a golden dawn.

However
that big dream only lasts two hours
and when we exit
the mundane life on the street
seems so uninspiring in contrast.

But why should it?--
every day
we feel the heat increasing--
I see people fleeing
a monstrous inferno--
every day
those fiery tentacles destroy
homes, cities, farms, forests, oceans.

We have birthed the apocalypse!

Occasionally I’ll feel out of breath
and realize I’ve been running.
Then standing amid the fire and ash
I’ll know again how weak I really feel.

At such times, I begin to fear
my anxiety will soon overwhelm me.

And so, in desperation, I’ll force myself
to find the strength to remain still--
to deal with the firestorm
instead of giving oxygen to those flames
with the wind of my retreat.

Sometimes then the sun will shine
through those dark shifting clouds
and again I’ll see
how we’ve given ourselves
an opportunity to be
the better version of who we are.
The hero and the heroine.

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© 2022, Michael R. Patton

A Better Fool

author's note:

Just once, I would've liked to have seen Wile E. Coyote ring Road Runner's neck.


A BETTER FOOL

As a child, I admired
the heroic defeat--

for instance:

the weary warrior rising to defend
poor children cowering in shadow corners--
she struggles--relentless--
though she knows her sacrifice
will not end the grief

or
the fallen explorer--
as he slowly fades, he raises his arms
toward the white sparkling peak--
just out of reach.

Such stories told me:
you need not win
in order to ascend to glory--
by remaining strong in abject loss
you can earn a place
in the hall of the brave.

Obsession
could actually lift me to grace.

But wait--
what about those cartoons
of the desert coyote obsessively pursuing
that empty-headed ground-dwelling bird?--

no grandeur when
the bomb explodes in his hand--
toasting his foolish head
to a burnt-black crisp

or when
the chase leads him off a cliff--
his bewildered eyes looking at us
for a mid-air moment of stillness--

saying:
"oh no!--but oh well--
 another hard landing."

The folly of the coyote
woke me to this risk:

by fighting ever onward
despite repeated failure
I could become rabidly absurd

but no--not if I went for bigger game:

if I elevated my goals
I might still be a fool
but I wouldn't be a silly fool--

by always reaching higher
I'd feel fulfilled even if I failed--

even if I suffered a million losses
I would not lose.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
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