This week's proto-poems

 These ones need more work than the others, but I like some lines from them. The first one is based on a story my papa told about his brief time in Japanese-controlled Cambodia at the end of the war. For the final line, I originally had 'of those who [...]' but quickly decided that it didn't matter who specifically, because all of us are dangerous, under the right circumstances.

First prompt: something dangerous passed down

The sword is sharp,

even after years of being hidden in the attic.

Hidden with words too,

We mustn't speak of this sharp-edged symbol of war,

but in whispers.

There was a tale he saw a man's head cut off, 

was it this sword?

Did it know how to cut flesh,

break bone,

and never flinch?

Or was it, after all, just some metal shaped into a blade,

and danger lurks elsewhere,

in the minds and hands and deeds

of us.

Second prompt: a time when you were dangerous

I've never been dangerous in my life,

probably because I've never been in danger;

been surrounded by softness,

a warm home to come back to,

that was never in any danger of being taken away.

Or if there was danger,

I was steered away,

sheltered from,

so that I never saw the world

as a hard and sharp space,

but something to be embraced

in a warm and gentle hug.

But with the rug pulled from underneath 

so many feet,

it doesn't matter now that I'm not in any danger;

I will be dangerous for others.