Mitchell Hood Poems

You should try Greek food, just a suggestion
And if you’re Greek, then try Chinese
I suppose it isn’t out of the question
That you’ve already tried each of these
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Billy Joel didn’t start the fire
Neither did we but we stoked it higher
The Who was just talking ‘bout their generation
But from them we drew our inspiration
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There are millions of guns from the west to the east
One for every American at least
They serve many purposes: to hunt and to kill
But when man murders man of his own mind and free will
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You and I are so familiar, but my face you’ve never seen
I’ve been there and I’ve been back, we met somewhere between
I do not have a name but you know me just as well
Somewhere in your deepest thoughts, a picture of me dwells
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The soldier stood alone, soaked in guilty men’s blood
The stench of murder filled the air, and its rancor stained the mud
His pride kept him tall, yet his shoulders hunched with malice
Passion burned within his eyes, though his heart had long grown callous
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What is love?
Is it a state of being?
What is love?
Why am I not seeing?
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I still remember that night we went to the movies
My mouth was dry, my heart was pounding, tension flowing through me
I'd never kissed a girl before and this seemed the time and place
Your lips looked oh so tempting, resting on your gorgeous face
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Everybody dreams of being a hero,
Of making that shot when the clock is at zero
Emulating the Great One, Air Jordan, Broadway Joe
Doing it all for the glory, under the lights' hazy glow
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Dearest Ann, I fear this may be the last I write
I would give up all I had to be in your arms tonight
They're sending me to the front at dawn's first light
To see you again, I will fight the hardest I can fight
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