Category: Poetry

Fire God

If they decide that you’re made of fire,
Pristine, glorious, and bright
Then they will insist that you burn
So that you may offer them light

If they believe that you are perfect,
And with you, they cannot compete,
They’ll make you a god, a dying one
To warm themselves by your heat

If you represent in their minds
Something they could never become,
They will set you ablaze in the night;
To the flames, watch you succumb

©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell 

Goddess

Yes, my dear,
You’re exactly like God

You’re exactly like God
In the following way

You demand to be worshipped,
With no return on investment

And you angrily smite those
Who don’t bow and pray

Yes, my dear,
You’re just like the Divine

You’re like the Divine,
And the way I can tell

Is that I walked away
From it, and from you

And having done so,
I’m no longer in hell

©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell 

topiary

you like to think of it as
fashioning, shaping,
trimming to fit

everything looks better
smaller

at least, that’s how
it seems to you,
because you are
small

always pruning, shaping,
lopping bits off

leaves of contentment
stems of security
roots of self-worth
the flowers of joy

you make it all tiny,
small enough to fit
in your dainty little
terrarium

or in your pocket

or your shoe

©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell