The Story of Blood

by Dayran

 

 

 

There are not many opportunities,

For a man of letters to come to see blood,

So it was indeed a new opportunity,

That I encountered in shaving with razors,

These are hand held with a 4" blade.

The edge brings a contact to the face,

It speaks to it as it slowly glides over beard,

It scratches and then the inevitable nicks.

On average, a man shaving with a razor,

Is going to pick up at least 4 to 5 injuries,

On the face, that special untouchable bastion,

Of identity, pride and of course some vanity.

Which makes it a good time to muse about blood,

And the many ways that it associates with our lives,

Including former debts, new ones and our intentions,

More often it refers to a sense of haste in us.

It is not unusual to find sometimes that past deeds,

Written in blood, today, continues to involve us,

We find it in the most unusual places.

There's a race that went extinct, Kings that fell,

Then there's the fight for new ideologies,

Each involving a little matter of the nick,

In the most delicate of places, bringing an end,

To a life of expectation, ambition and struggle.

I think I'm going to continue with the 4" razor,

Its opening up a new attentiveness to the self.