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Metaphor Pain Poems | Metaphor Poems About Pain

These Metaphor Pain poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Pain. These are the best examples of Metaphor Pain poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia


Details | Rhyme | |

A Soul Awakened

She is the muse to her own sorrow; She is the digger of her grave. She is the painter of her ocean view and every fatal wave. She is the shadow of her Father; She is the darkness in your sight. She is the night without the stars surrounding pale moonlight. She is the music with no words; She is sweet love without the reason. She is your dreamer with submission cold by warmth with every season. She is your pet with cold intentions; She is your baby scared and shaken. She is the bold and pure- the lost and found, She is a soul awakened.


Details | Free verse | |

Love Bites

Love bites like the first frost in late autumn.
It kills whatever flowers have survived since summer ended.
The frost slowly seeps into the stem, totally consumes the petals,
then when it least expects it,
freezes them, biting deep into the roots, 
and choking it to death.
Eventually leaving nothing but a dead, rotted weed.

My love for you was like that flower,
and like that flower my heart was wild and free.
Until, one day when I was frost bitten, by your love for me,
which like that frost, was cold and uncaring.

Love bites like frost to a flower.
It hurts everything in it's path.
You know it's coming, and there is no way to stop it.
Nothing lasts forever.





Written by: Kelly Deschler   motif: nature & philosophical    (old poem)


Details | Ode | |

Instauration

“Abandon ship and from her flee
Better her than all be lost to sea.”
“First Mate, be rendered silent,” is the captain’s plea
“Dear crew, I beg, depart not, stay along with me.”

But Admiral calls from ships numbered three.
“Leave Elpida alone, and Captain, for drowning.”
Then company vanished, quick as a wink.
Left small, untested sailboat to sink.

Night reached down on vast ocean’s face,
And soon sea’s swells were by darkness embraced
Light blazed cross the sky, wind roared from the heat.
The blue’s anger and rage against terrified vessel did beat.

More and most fiercely Elpida battled the deep.
Up ‘til the moment Earth sunk in her teeth.
The storm screamed on, endless as the heavens are deep.
And for half a score years, the sun, from Captain's eyes, night did keep.

For two times for every five, did the captain despair
Lost upon foreign soil, abandon by fleet out there.
To stumble upon natives, fate had it be.
An amiable bunch, again the odd number three.

To restore broken vessel labored the four
Sew up the hull, repair ruptured floors.
And for time, two times, and three times more
Toiled this group ’til there was work no more.

And the sun, as, of course, it would be
Broke the horizon and bore new day on the sea.
Set the deserted again to conquer the deep.
No armada to accompany, but lone Captain, no fleet.

And now, even now, sails Elpida Berregin.
Meeting new worlds by way of the sea.
In all her travels she met again her former fleet,
But Captain did not the Admiral re-meet.

For they had become galleys of ghosts;
Galleys to whom the dead were tending.
Offering up a prayer, Captain took his leave,
And having left, returned to journeying.

“Abandon ship and from her flee.”
Perhaps they, but never me.
Elpida Berregin, mighty galleon proved by sea,
A crew member, forever yours, will I be,
And will serve your Captain most faithfully.


Details | Verse | |

Letters On My Arm

you won’t listen to me, so i write to you on my arms. 
this one says i needed you and you weren’t there. 
this one says i’m bleeding but you don’t care. 
i wrote you this one out of despair, 
seemed like you always had to be at some other somewhere,
and it hurts, because it’s me you’re dismissin’, 
with no time to listen, just need your attention, 
it’s your touch i’m missin’, look me in my eye,
i know you see my letters, so why don’t i get a reply?
i guess it’s worth it just to try, 
to get you to notice me just one more time, 
write you just one last line, 
but i’m runnin’ out of time ‘cause i’m runnin’ out of ink, 
needin’ more time to think, 
but i don’t have it, so i sign my last letter and address it to you,
i hope this one gets through


Details | Free verse | |

Loose Change

I dig into the open wounds of self preservation,

and hear

                   ...from way over there,

my love jingling in your pocket

as if it were the loose change 

in your wet dreams. 

You were always numb to the mirror,

taking comfort in the blind eyed 

discontent you've reigned in 

with hard strokes of denial,

making your makeup seem

a little more made up in the dim lighting

of reflection. 

Don't you think? 

It was never about making love,

it was about forgetting.

My hips were a glowing red exit sign,

on the route of 

                           ....screwing life away.

Each moan, a promise that 

even though you were dead inside,

you could still make a piece of the 

world shake. 

Maybe even make something break. 

And that made everything seem

a bit more tolerable...

until I started thanking you 

for the damage inflicted.

The pain I felt, assurance 

that I was alive.

I'm not sure why that 

took the fun out of it 

for you..

I still screamed bloody murder

when you sunk your teeth into

newly adjusted nerve endings..

The pain, more real than ever before.

I guess you never meant to 

take a ride with someone just as 

damaged as you. 

You were hoping to be the only 

ghost in this city, still bound

to a carnal playhouse. 

But baby..

                I was a corpse long before I had any change to spare.

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them


Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’


Details | Rhyme | |

Love, Kiss, Sex '25 words'

~*~ left hand touch to excite KISS is spark to ignite right hand pulls us tight heartbeats like dynamite LOVE is pain SEX has no refrain ~~**~~ ~*~


Details | Personification | |

Reflections of a Mirror

Reflections of a Mirror

You examine me as if 
I am an answer-
As if I am the answer.
You search the reflection
Of your own eyes as if
They can tell you more
Than I already have-
But the answer 
Is always the same
As the question;
I'm only repeating back
What you've already
Told me-
I am only the echo
Of your own
Mirror image...
You look at me and see
Yourself;
If you can't defeat
The compulsion to call me
A liar, then at least
Fight against the impulse
To break me under 
Your fist-
I can not fix you
Or myself,
So try to resist the 
Urge to scream at me
When I can't tell you
What you want to know-
Are you trying to
Test some misguided
Hypothesis that if you 
Show me 
Enough of your soul,
I will crack into 
A reflection of
Your heart?-
Is that why you
Let me see you
When you are too
Ashamed to lift
Your face to meet
The gaze of 
Anyone else?
I have seen you
On every sleepy morning
That came to soon,
And every Friday night
That couldn't have
Come soon enough...
I have seen you
On nights when
You are lonely enough
To look at me and 
Pretend that the face
You see behind the glass
Belongs to another 
Human being-
I have seen
Your tears falling thick
Until the surface of 
My glass and your cheek
Are like synchronized
Window panes pondering
Rainstorms,
Every hesitant smile that you
You have tried on for size,
Before asking me
What I think...
But I am not an answer...
Only a mirror.


Details | Lyric | |

Solipsist

Let the Deicide commence.

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.

I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
your failure!

I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
 
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways

Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own  personal reality 




Details | Ballad | |

The Slave and the Sparrow

Time had sewn,
And we had wrought,
Against a force
Seldom fought,

And we had dreamt,
And we had dreamed,
Of a world
Ever serene,

And we had run,
And we had ran,
As if we could arrive
At such a land,

And the world was one
Grey with gloom,
The old slave
Bent over the loom,

As a tear shed from
His face,
We were yet to 
Beat him with a mace,

And a tear shed 
From my face,
And a tear shed
From your face,

Our freedom;
Only in death,
Our joy;
Only in sorrow,

Thy come a sparrow
From the old wood;
A torn sparrow 
From the old wood,

Among the grass
It was contained;
Among the green grass
It was contained,

Its beak broken;
Its wings only silt,
The young sparrow
Presented us guilt,

And through the wind
It blew away,
And through the wind
It flew to fly,

Arise from death,
Into the the fair day;
And a phoenix
Had flown away.

Our freedom;
Only in death,
Our joy;
Only in sorrow.


Details | Free verse | |

The Autumn Affect

There's something unspecific about the autumn nights
A certain shade of color that uplifts my inner child's eyes
Beside a cashmere moon Venus and Jupiter shine bright
Complimented by a sea of blinking infinite twilight
The scent of burning oak lingers in the air from home made fires
Reminiscent of a time when this man was just a child
Careless and so free to dream and any dream to live
Like feathers floating across a field carried by the wind
As a gentle breeze blows through the leaves shivering delightful gloom
Unlike flowers of springtime the disheveled autumn vibrance bloom
Leaves crackle beneath my feet along the skeleton tree path
Where I try to find my peace or a song to make me laugh
The air is so much crisper and also soothing when I breathe it in
Underneath a starry sky and brighter constellations of Heaven
Amidst the trail I pass a lovely couple holding hands
While their children run aside frolicking in a playful dance
An old man and his wife admire the view from a wooden bench 
With smiles on their face as if nostalgia is still their closest friend
Its these specific autumn affects that bring me sorrows and joy
Reminding me of all theses things Ive wanted as a man since I was a little boy 
Its times like these that I wish I wasn't always so alone
Because I would light an fire with my family and call it home


Details | Acrostic | |

Your Eyes

 (Dedicated to Folake)

Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.

Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.

May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
 
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.

Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.

Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.


Details | Lyric | |

Lacerated Wings

They are bound to the Earth like trees
Suffocating under the weight of an icy grave 
Reaching to be free, but only their limbs are seen
Hoping that one day someone will see:
They can't escape with lacerated wings

The ocean surrounds me, covering everything
Nothing will be clearly seen; confusion overwhelming
No-one can save you, you're on your own, left to die
Manipulating every bleeding heart you can find
I can't escape with lacerated wings.

Swarms of nets, waves of screams 
Entangle: your captive illusions and dreams
The mask has be seared - The truth now they see
The Liar - Vampiric Fiend; lowly thief
And now they know you can't escape with Lacerated Wings

There's reasons for your rejections:
Your Heavy heart's transferred oppression
The scars are too deep to pass the trials
But you can find peace in your cage of empty spirals
You Cannot Escape With Lacerated Wings


Details | Free verse | |

Broken Wings

A newborn butterfly just broke out of her cocoon shell.
She spread her orange and black wings
and attempted her first flight.
She not only flew, she soared through the heavens.
The sunlight gave her warmth that she had never known before.

Little did she know, that this feeling would not last.
This monarch would cross paths with an uncaring, ravenous bird.
It grasped the butterfly in it's claws,
and with the bird's hungry beak, it tore the precious wings from the monarch.
A bird doesn't care who it hurts,
as long as it satisfies them.

The butterfly was delirious, from the pain and the shock.
Her beautiful wings were taken away.
She could no longer fly amongst the warm sunlight.
She now only knows the despair and the darkness that she used to be.
Now that monarch has become a caterpillar.
And, death has become her cocoon.


Details | Free verse | |

Conspiracy: Who Killed The Easter Bunny

A crowded table, all suspended in shock 
The sound of the shot dimming to a ‘knock’
Only silence, except for the marching clock
The weapon still smoking; an anonymous glock
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

Loud cries arise from the elongated table,
Jack Frost is shocked, the Tooth Fairy unable
To speak whilst Santa is checking the stable
For clues on the erstwhile maidservant Mable
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

They searched for hours, called in C.S.I,
Panic set in, would the children all cry?
Sandman confirmed the bunny had died
Batman suspected somebody had lied
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

Guests were quizzed, interrogations began
The mystery unfolded when Santa Claus ran,
Grabbing the pies, he tried escaping in a van
But was stopped in his tracks by superman
SANTA KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY!


Details | Free verse | |

Only in You

Through the lonely woods, I may head,

Upon the autumn leaves, I may tread,

At the secluded horizon, I may stare,

And only you, I may see,

In those symphonies of silence,

In those melodies of calmness,

In those euphonies of quietness.

 

By the silent lake, I may lay,

Till the twilight fades, I may stay,

Then in reclusive silence, I may walk,

And only to you, I may talk,

Through those toungueless emotions,

Through those wordless attachments,

Through those voiceless sentiments.

 

In the lone meadow, I may wander,

Along the untrodden paths, I may waver,

In companionless seclusion, I may hide,

And only in you, I may find,

The depths of oneness,

The bonds of togetherness,

The cozy feel of coalescence.

 

In the wilderness of emotions, I may die,

At the merciless daggering, I may sigh,

Through a million wounds, I may bleed,

And only in you, I may seek,

The balm of love,

The warmth of affection,

The heal of inseparability.


Details | Free verse | |

Giving In To The Gray

Overwhelmed with fear I whispered into the rain
Disarming defenses, Giving in to the gray 
Tearing down all of my shelter within my hollowed decay
While this echoing silence gave every tear drop a name
They begin filling the voids with mundane hopes for a change
Heaven will save me from this hell and blue skies will reign
Lazily lay in green grass watching clouds drift away
It's all but a deflated dream now that the colors have changed
My thoughts have become restless noise of uncertainties rearranged
Damning all of my emotions, lies decorated with grace
Now I stand with a hardened heart in the sobering autumn rain 
I'm disarmed and defenseless, Giving in to the gray


Details | I do not know? | |

Darkness

when you're fast asleep
and thoughts creep into your head
and flood your brain until it weeps
and your mind descends dark and deep
into a land of dead end worlds
where the only way out
is the way you came in
but the road is way too steep
and your feet are made of lead
and every smile is just pretend
and nothing is to be believed
and you're going off the deep end
bleeding rivers of hatred
into a pool of shallow deceit
where every thought is colored red
and every shade of black completes
every nightmare ever conceived
born of blood-stained dreams within dreams
where that person you used to be
is falling into skies of silent screams
and contemplating death
all the while wishing
to be alive again


Details | I do not know? | |

'Little bird, what troubles thee'

Little bird, what ails thee
      is it the bread in your belly
little bird, what troubles thee
      is it the bread of misery

is it the bitterness in your heart, 
     or the offense you can't forgive
is it the anguish that sets you apart, 
     or the hurt that holds you captive 
 
is it the cancer of bitter love, 
     or the loss of deserved affection 
is it the cruel withdrawal of 
     his tenderness and compassion 

life is much too brief
      and youthful love's even briefer still,
your forestalled relief 
      keeps you from seeing His eternal will

what befalls you 
      is neither unshared nor a mystery
God sheds tears for you
      in the midst of your painful agony

little bird, what ails thee
      is it the bread in your belly
little bird, what troubles thee
      is it the bane of misery


Details | Lyric | |

Silver Ships

Written May 31, 2013


The sun does rise
Over silver ships sailing in the sky
Rain on down on our parade
In a concrete jungle
The kids come out to play
Masked by this dreadful masquerade

A cosmic dance where stars collide
The kids and parents run to hide
Shelter from the enemy above
Who light up the sky with lightning bugs

The land is dark and the sky is black
Mothers pray the birds will not come back
Be it by barren land or vicious sea
Lord just hear our plea

The sun does rise
Over silver ships sailing in the sky
Rain on down on our parade
In a concrete jungle
The kids come out to play
Masked by this dreadful masquerade


Details | I do not know? | |

'Give me drink, rest, and solitude'

Give me drink, rest, and solitude--
these are all the things I long for.
Give me as well your finest food
and I'll ask of you, lass, no more!

My bonnie lass, what's the matter--
why are you all sorry and alone?
Don't be sad because you're fatter
than most, lass, for love loves its own.

Sweet lass, I'll tell you a secret.
If I were a young lad again,
I'd pursue you without regret!
But as I am three-score and ten

years old, indeed, I can never
be the youthful lad you most need.
But your pain won't be for ever:
for your heart will refuse to bleed.




Details | Rhyme | |

SCARY 1

Try me, fool, and the semi gon' bang
I'm a big dog, I gotta' let my nuts hang
If I go to jail, best believe I'm bonding out
I always handle beef, that's what I'm all about
I'm not a punk, somebody lied--
I'm bustin' shots, let's get that fixed

Sleep on me, see me in ya' worst nightmares

I'm Hell-raiser, dead fresh in some Nike-Airs

Or in a monkey suit, totin' something with a banana clip

Leave you wet, like dry lips after applying Chap-stick

Ain't talking 'bout a blunt, but I rolled-up

I'm gon' wet these fools, hope they don't mold-up

When it go down, I go ape-shit, bananas

put coward to sleep, without the pajamas

Keep bustin' shots, like pimples on a maturing teen

I do my dirt, but leave the crime scene clean

Stay fresh, but they always call me grimy

They say I'm too gangsta', so they won't sign me

I put in work, man, I'm clockin' in overtime

Haters faces looking sour, like they suckin' on lime

You got beef, well guess what, that's all I eat

I stand my ground, you just sit in your seat

Can't let fools run me over, I'm not a roadkill

Leave you in the streets leakin', looking like an oil spill

You got a problem, I know how'tta' get that solved

Apply pressure, let's not get ya' family involved


Details | Verse | |

Philosophical Poetry Week: Transient Tuesday

I am a misprint,
Ink blot on love,
I remain a maybe
Longing for fact,
No speck of lint,
A hand in glove.
Thunder; a baby
Will only react

When you etch
Parallel clouds,
Whistling on cue
To a dead town.
Dream a sketch
Of silent crowds
Becoming you,
This boiling crown

Chews thought
Into flagellation.
Holes in the walls
To spy through,
Seeking a sort
Of bricked-up sun.
A heaven of halls,
All leaving you.


Details | I do not know? | |

Tomorrow is Ours



Tomorrow is Ours.


Suffocating beneath the weight of historical fear,
asphyxiated by the legacy of traumatised yesteryear,

the festering wounds of enslavement still remain,
juggling euphemisms in a crisp sound-bitten refrain,

spewing out neo-liberal economic charades,
doling out charity in strips of plastic band-aids,

but,

tomorrow shall be ours,

casting away subservient mind-sets that shackle,
no longer the weakened prey of the insatiable jackal,

tomorrow shall be ours,

we shall reclaim our plundered mindspaces,
we shall shed our chains, leaving behind the traces,

of past injustice, of the hurt and pain of our ancestors' sorrows,

we are here, now, alive with hope,


we shall rightfully claim our own tomorrows.





Details | Rhyme | |

Stones

Your words are like stones
Whether skipped or thrown
Destination unknown
They fly alone
Bruising and breaking deeper than bones

Yet pain from these stones will never be shown.

Whether near or far
She'll faithfully wait
Till the unknown date
When those stones are kind and lost of hate

You make mistakes 
Yes she can relate
But what if the pain becomes to great
Whe the kindness comes too late

Such small pieces of her heart
whats left to make
She gave to much
Now there's none to take

Just one everlasting ache 
That your stones did create

They say you can never retake
A women's heart once it breaks

So next time withhold the quake
Your stones with take
And keep this lesson
As a dear keepsake.

<3 Kalee Lynn




Details | Rhyme | |

STRIVE 1

Life is hard, tough, rough, like a brilo-pad
Growing up, street smart was all I had
I had no choice but to turn to the hood
It's difficult trying to change for the good
What do you do when there's nowhere to turn?
Before you decide, look back, what did you learn?

Try to survive, I'm gon' do the same

Stuck in this world, heart full of pain

Money cover evil, trying to stay sane

Cash keeps flowing, like blood to the brain

Rappin' ain't like hustling, it's a whole different game

came through a struggle, my ankle got a sprain

Haters don't care, nobody gon' look out

Everybody's grillin', but this ain't a cookout

Bullets keep flyin', that's what the scare's about

Life's rough, like the stuff between tile, grout

The hood's full of hate, what happened to love

Too many little misfits, like a tiny glove

Put haters in dirt, that's what I call gardenin'

My heart's colder than water, when it starts hardenin'

Call me care-free, I ain't got no worries

Life don't always end well, like fairy-tale stories
 


Details | Rhyme | |

SCARY 2

Try me, fool, and the semi gon' bang
I'm a big dog, I gotta' let my nuts hang
If I go to jail, best believe I'm bonding out
I always handle beef, that's what I'm all about
I'm not a punk, somebody lied--
I'm bustin' shots, let's get that fixed

I keep it 100, like whole-numbers, no fraction

You're a toy, all looks but no action

So much beef, I can open up a diner

Catch me underground, call me a miner

I keep it real, you haters is processed

To the streets I'm a god, bow down, get blessed

I got rank, like a zebra, I got stripes

Diggin' in ya' chest, you know pressure bust pipes

Got heat, I'm like an Arab with no turban

Shots burn your chest, like drinking Burbon

I cock my tool as they approach, get ready

Make sure you're on point, and hold it steady

When they get near, that trigger get a pull

Give straight head shots, it's an unspoken rule

Shots rang out, like the bells of Notre-Dame

I was long gone, before the law even came


Details | Rhyme | |

STRIVE 2

Life is hard, tough, rough, like a brilo-pad
Growing up, street smart was all I had
I had no choice but to turn to the hood
It's difficult trying to change for the good
What do you do when there's nowhere to turn?
Before you decide, look back, what did you learn?

Out-of-control, like an untamed beast

If I should fall, I'm gon' rise like yeast

Got the game in submission, fools better tap-out

On the road to success, ya'll on a different route

I'm shootin' up haters, more than a heroin addict

Ain't talking 'bout electricity, but it helps prevent static

Like a ship's anchor, I'm gon' hold it down

No matter the outcome, I'ma' stand my ground

I tried turning right, but end up going left

Already living in hell, so what's worst after death

Fast life, gotta' slow down, like I'm in a school zone

Made amends with people I ripped off, like clothes being sown

Searching life's meaning, can't find it in the dictionary

Gotta' change, or end up caged like a canary

Got a pocket full of green, like a bowl filled with lettuce

Satisfied, 'bout to end my run, so roll-the-credits


Details | Free verse | |

DEATH NOTE

Black memories
made it blind
White images 
are hard to find,
Pain... Emotions...
Hope... are Missing
My Mind, My Heart
are still not working

This is not a sin
for me, for now
but a solution
to make all things down

I wrote this dark letter
with a teardrops in each CORNER...
with a confuse body
that will  turn to SPIRIT later...
 . . .
I think this is the end...
. . .

Silence... ALL BECOME CLEAR...


Details | I do not know? | |

The Petty Posh-WahZee - Liberation and Ostentation



The Petty Posh-Wahzee - Liberation & Ostentation


The Not-So Distant Past:

The fallen fighters for freedom, are unable to turn in their graves,
their battered, fragmented bones, mixed with a handful of torn rags,
are all that remain, a mute reminder of their selfless valiant sacrifice.

They endured brutal Apartheid harassment, detentions without trial,
torture in the cells, and mental anguish when loved ones disappeared,
they left their homeland, to continue the struggle against racial bigotry,
while countless others fought the scourge of white-minority rule at home.

Nelson Mandela and many, many others, spent their lives imprisoned,
on islands of stone, and on islands of the cruellest torture, yet they stood,
never bowing, never scraping, they stood, firm for ideals for which they were prepared to die,

and many, many comrades did die, at the hands of the callous oppressor,
and many, many comrades perished in distant lands, torn from their homes,
while the struggle continued, for decades, soaked in blood, in tears, in pain.


The Present:

19 years have passed, since freedom was secured at the highest of prices,
delivering unto us, this present, a gift of emancipation from servitude,

a freedom to walk this land, head held high, no longer second-class citizens,
in the land of our ancestors, whose voices we hear and need to heed today.

I do not care much for fashion, Lewis-Fit-On and Sleeves unSt.-Moron,
yet the ostentation that I witness baffles even my unsophisticated palate,

our ancestors' plaintive whispers are being dismissed, left unheeded, as
we browse the aisles for more and more, always for more and yet more.

Asphyxiated by the excess of the Petty Posh-Wahzee, we find ourselves,
perched precariously on the edge, of a dissolution of all that is humane,

babies go hungry, wives are battered, our elders left in hospitals for hours,
I cringe as I scribble these words, perhaps too sanctimonious and preachy,

yet I know, deep in the marrow of my brittle bones, I know, I know, I know,
this tree of freedom planted by the nameless daughters and sons of Africa,

needs to be shielded, nurtured, protected from our very own baser impulses,
so that the precious tree of freedom, may bear the fruit that may feed us all,

for if not, then we are doomed, to tip over, and into the yawning abyss, we shall fall.








Details | Prose Poetry | |

Forgotten Clothes and Stolen Whiskey

She left me cold, like a forgotten sweater.

Walked right out the door, without even checking the weather.

Now I’m crumpled up by the fireplace, frayed by the rough

edges of ashen bricks that smell of burnt flowers and sun tan lotion:

That stuff she always seemed to smell like, even in the harsh depths of winter. 

But coconut oil and rose petals aren’t enough to regulate body temperature;

So, I guess it was the whiskey that kept her flush that night,

because in the heart pocket of my jacket that she stole  

was a flask of absolution.

Each block she rounded, she doused her frigid organs with

another shot to warm the notion of shattering the path we built.

Fueling a new engine, to carry her blur past the life we once thought

was forged by two souls meant to keep each other warm.

But now this existence is kindled by abandoned perrineals 

and bloodshot revelation. 

I watch fire kissed petals curl up into themselves and gasp

for love’s last embrace until there’s nothing left for the 

fire to feed upon. 

It’s 3 A.M. 

The smoke is beginning to dissipate;

her throat is dry, her legs are tired. 

…We’re both so tired. 

I pull her sweater from the bricks,

feel the wool tear and clench my ribs. 

Gasp. 

I fold her warmth gently as if tending

to a wounded animal and tuck it

beneath my skull; hoping for dreams 

of summer nights, but sleep won’t come.

It left with her. 

She has reached her apartment.

Staggering toward the door, 

she thrusts shaking hands into

my jacket in search of keys.

The flask falls onto the concrete,

the last drops spill out. 

There is nothing left.

The door opens, and she falls to the bed,

cold in the leather too uncomfortable to return. 

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved


Details | Monorhyme | |

A Woman Repaired

A battered woman in tattered cloths huddled beneath an oak.
Befuddled by the stranger’s gaze as he handed her his cloak.
Unwittingly, her lips curled up as her tangled hair she stroke.
Her pale blue eyes began to tear as she looked upon the bloke.

Her yesterdays were filled with pain for her spirit had been broke.
Each night she walked beneath the stars, tears flowing; she never spoke.
Without knowing, passers-by, would sneer at her cruelly and joke.
Her younger years still haunted her, the assaulting by men-folk.

Left for dead in her blood stained clothes, after hours she awoke.
Now, she cowers-down and slinks away even from her kinfolk.
And so she has lived since that distant time, cold, without a cloak 
Long ago in a frenzied daze, her engagement had been broke.

The gold upon her finger disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
Her memories of love and peace to that horror had been yoked.
Wild blue eyes painted well the scene; deadly terror did evoke.
And not one smile escaped her lips since her spirit had been broke.

That battered woman in ragged clothes drawn-up beneath the oak,
Surprised that someone cared enough and would share with her his cloak.
He reached for her with his soft skinned hands; smiling, he bespoke.
Come, my dear, and walk with me, a new ring to mend…our hearts broke.	

Copyright January 12, 2014


Details | Free verse | |

The Whisper of Flames

He is a fire.
I fell in love with his eyes,
How they're like chips of charcoal
The space of a spark away
From igniting...
I remember how he first held me-
How he murmured in my ear,
Speaking words like a whisper of flames...
But the whisper of flames is always 
Accompanied by the crackle of burning logs 
As they collapse-
I never made the connection that the whisper
Of his voice in my ear would mean I'd have to
Listen to the shatter of my own heart
As it cracked-
My heart was a clay pinch pot
Molded perfectly to the shape of his palms-
I told him to keep it close to him,
Not realizing that he was not only
The creator but the kiln-
His heat snuck into all the cracks
And weaknesses under my surface,
Until I smashed into a hundred tear-shaped 
Fragments under the pressure because he-
He is heat...
And I was always too fragile not to get
Burned...


Details | I do not know? | |

Where Wild Violets Grow

Where Wild Violets Grow

Scribbling these verses,
caressing your bare back,
simple rhymes,
flowing from my fingertips.


Scribbling verses,
sprinkling odes to fragrant promises,
your smile lightens the burdens,
off my heavy heart.


Scribbling verses,
soaked in countless kisses,
the moonlight waltzing on your skin.


Scribbling verses,
feeling you,
your love never ceases to flow,


through the streams of my mind,
to a place of our own,
where wild violets grow



Details | Lyric | |

In the Spider's Web

I am a spider
amused that you have become ensnared
in my web of lies.
My talent is manipulation-
I play you as easily as a puppet
dangling from my power hungry fingers.
Hungry, yes-
I feed off these lies.
The quicker you fall, 
the more satisfaction I feel.
I am a spider
and you are my pray.
You do not realize you are a victim
until you are bound and broken
my teeth at your neck,
How foolish do you feel 
as the venom courses through your veins?
Does this make me a monster,
Nothing more than a barbaric creature?
Relying on primal instincts,
I hunt for facts
and gather the truths,
smuggling them away 
and replacing them with 
Picture-perfect facsimiles engulfed in deceit.
Have I performed the greatest trick of all?
Or have I lost myself in my web?
Each fragile strand threatens to snap,
to unravel my illusion
and reveal the truth masked within,
leaving me exposed,
vulnerable and naked.
I have lost myself:
A victim of my own design.


Details | Quatrain | |

Somebody Save Me

Somebody save me.

I'm so far down in the shadowy deep,
Please, somebody just drag me to shore,
Right before I take my eternal sleep,
Because I just can't breathe anymore.

Somebody save me.

Suddenly, in goes the cold knife,
With such an unimaginable pain,
Then out flows all the warm life,
Please, don't let this memory remain.

Somebody save me.

I'm standing right in front of you,
So, why is it that you don't see me,
The reaper is coming closer, too,
I need an angel to set me free.

Somebody save me.

Take me someplace safe and warm,
Out of the darkness of the night,
Hold me, shield me from the storm,
Stay here with me until morning's light.

Somebody save me.

This can't be how my life ends,
I will never be able to stop crying,
It is all over before it begins,
Slowly, I can feel my heart dying.

Somebody save me.


Details | Free verse | |

There Is No Now

The pollution is psychedelic
Hell, you could even say poetic nature
Terms of enragement
Definitely not engagement
Can suffice in describing the depredation

Fire from the skies
Burning through the system
Dropping through to nothing
Learning not what’s in them
Always running from them

We may hide our voices
But you hide your souls
Torturing us with woes
Never able to feed our hole
Scars bleed out like coals

Paint it any color you like
Doesn’t change a thing
This war that you’ve brought forth 
Has killed us all
In the past and future

There is no now…


Details | Free verse | |

Her Final Words

"No." She whispered before drowning into her sorrows.
Her life had been a simple happy one. 
There were no pains and no troubles.
Life was life and people were people.
Life was simple.
and life was all about tomorrows.
Life didn't know about sorrows.
Her sorrows.
Those same sorrows that she drowned in never existed. 
They were never there, but where?
First to be sad in the naive town of joy.
Sorrow became contagious and what was known as happiness no longer was there.
It was non-exististent. 
A meager thought 
and a blessed memory.
She tried and tried.
She failed and failed.
Life was no longer hers.
For Pain was her only possession.
Her curse.
She lived and she died.
Yet, her legacy was passed on.
Never was it gone.
"No." She whispered before drowning in her sorrows, 
"Save them."


Details | Verse | |

Does the War Ever Really End

A moment stauls...
Somewhere in between
What shall always be... 
Known as my lost and forever hour

Where I wake to sounds of thrashing rains
A clock sits staring, ticking and tocking
My own darkness illuminating lightning
Distant thunder following her in shame

Although, throes of raven blackness
Slumber holds on to the pitch
But, I pass through limbo hallways of surreal
Stumbling forth in directions by my blinded feel itch

Walls of lucid memories like dripping paint 
Begin to lapse deep into the younger years 
And creaking footfalls shatter their echo
Of certian remembered fears 

"Ah" deja vu sounds the alarm even further
Cracks from father’s room, is the ceiling leaking?
Into my little ears I'm more awake
As I hear the faint famaliar tears of weeping

My curiosity ever stronger than before
And innocent eyes through doorways peer
It’s the war again; Mom said he tried...
To leave it all behind, but still it's always there

And the storm's outside, but in a booming violence
Rushes back surreal into the unforgotten killing
The death, its experiences still locked up
Within his mind never free or escaping

A heroes love is his strength
Protecting me from a world with terrible pains
But, somehow I’ve learned to understand
That he needs his son, to calm his troubled angst

And silently I step
Inching slowly towards him
And nestle up within his trembling hands
Tugging upon one sleeve whispering "Dad, oh dad?"

“God has sent me here”
I say directly in his ear
Quieter now “To love you”
My tone gentle to his needs

Wiping away his tears
He whispers back...
“I know”
And picks me up, relieved

And in turn we face the scene
Of a passing storm into silence
As the rain seems alive to notice
Stopping to watch our mends in evanescence

We are somewhat aware we are within God's presence 
Looking to each other with a shrug
And then my dad holds me up
Giving this boy the biggest hug

Beneath the returning quiet 
And the ambience of moonray light
He carries me back to my room
And places me into bed amid the last flash of white

Pulls the blankets up
Knowing this will comfort me
And I’ll never forget the words
He said so effortlessly 

“One day...
You will have a son
Always let him know you love him
And your bond will never end”

Again I wake, this time
To the sounds of an apologetic rain
The lightening has ceased its battle
And the thunder it no longer blames

I unwind the blanket
And uncover and sit
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes
Awake, on the edge of bed

Was this a dream?
Or a twist of fate reality?
I ponder, running fingers through my hair
And, merely reflect upon it

Then I realize…
I was not alone
Dad is watching, not far away
And I know one day, I'll see him soon, after heaven's gates


Details | Free verse | |

A New Love Valve for my Heart

I need a new valve
In this little heart of mine
I need a sturdy one
That only lets enough love out
As the amount of love coming in

The valve I have is faulty
For even when love comes in a trickle
It lets out a strong surge of love 
And my little heart gets depleted
Of life giving love 
Leading to....
Heart attacks!
Yes, I suffer heart attacks
That are painful and frightening
The after effects of discomfort
Last such a LONG time
And I wonder….
Will the next one be fatal?

I need a new valve
I MUST get a new valve
Right away!
Before it’s too late!
Or perhaps…..
Perhaps…
I need a new heart?


Details | Free verse | |

The Bird that is Loved and Loathed

It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath 
the ice.
More than remaining in a 
kindled flame
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why? 

It burned and it stung.
The markings remained, 
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little 
known loathing were the known 
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the 
child that cried
Never was their relief for the 
child that tried

You were that lovely bird that 
understood the complications of 
felicity 
Nothing looked the same in 
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears 
of joy.
The others-they were yet to 
appear.
Caring Mother, o' so fair
 You were that beautiful bird 
filled with care.

The others came and were not 
alone. Their two suitors sat on 
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you 
come?
I began to wither and wither 
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a 
human raceme. 
The droops of the Lily of the 
Valley became the slumping of 
my heart.
My lovely bird the enemy had 
taken you and the person you 
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its 
intricate self and you became 
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
 
Mother, Mother what moved 
you so? 
Your intense spirt vanished only 
to supplement a monster. 
Mother, Monster and your tar 
filled lungs. 
How did I kill that liver that was 
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you 
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you 
turn?
 
My lovely bird and your big 
brown eyes
I'll tell you once, but never 
twice.
Pain is only a flower for it 
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as 
quickly as lice.
 You dear bird hurt me well. 
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest 
strength.
You brought me up, then you 
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and 
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you 
down in your deep black 
slumber. 
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights. 


Details | I do not know? | |

Love Endures

Love floats by,


reaching,
tantalising,
meandering,


tip-toeing past pain,


leaping through walls,
weakening the barricades,


of the most private heart.



Love settles in,


trusting,
searching,
dissolving,


quietly beyond anguish,


erasing the desolation,
soothing a battered spirit,
enveloping the shivering soul.



Love stays, it is true,


love endures, as do you






Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Hopeless

Every night she paints the sky a little darker,
blotting out stars that she’s given up on.
Burning balls of dust that her imagination can
no longer shoulder. Someone else can have
their light; Someone with a little hope left.
She’d rather draw in grey scale memories,
outline them in crimson. It’s a little more 
realistic that way; contemporary at least.
The few last glowing bits in the horizon
give all that is needed for the final strokes
of her legacy. 
A promise to herself,
                               A tribute to the fallen,
                                   A gift for those who are sure wander onto the    
                                    path that she found, so long ago.
 
"Maybe it will save them.
                                     Give them what they need to find their way.”
 
She lay her brush unto the stone before her,
and let the grass take the blood from her hands
before she reaches out.
One final star shines in her eyes,
the only one left to guide them home.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved


Details | I do not know? | |

You and I



You and I.


You.

Your heart blazed,
with a warmth of spirit,

soothing,

alluring,

soaked in truth.



Your smile burned,
branding me permanently,

gentle,

tender,

enveloping my being.



Your love was complete,
from the depths of your soul,

unsaid,

yet fierce,

bathed in silent knowing.



Your dreams were poetic,
fluttering in the afternoon breeze,
infused with the distilled essence of rhyme.


I.

I squandered your generosity of spirit.

I vainly discarded your priceless poems.


Now I stand,

alone,

empty,

desolate,

wasting away,

rotting inside, day by day.




Details | Rhyme | |

The Bourgeois and the Spinning Wheel

In a room filled with a solitary red hue
The bourgeois spins a wheel
With no destination, nor need
She will spin until her brittle Hands bleed
Just to satisfy her ennui and artifice
But she does not see - the rien I see
The monster approaching her empty dreams

Spinning still - she does not know
The insomniac rose will begin to grow
The thorn of clandestine and ebony
Ostracized for he began to realize
What lies in nonsense is decadence
Which sparks interest
Who's lover is a dadaist
But his story is over now
As Seth lead the way
A poet dies in dismay

The thorn as she spun penetrated
A distraction and a lack of action
She knew the temptation for she so loved the sensation
Of crass, rebellious - ways 
The thought laid it's seed
In her Gaulish mind it breeds
She has no other need and no regrets
So she proceeds and the smile lets
With full intention and desire
Caring none of her fate that will transpire 
She presses her finger on the thorn 
So now she bleeds knowingly
she did not recede


Details | Rhyme | |

Justice league Is Major

Sure i hit hard, always shining like a star, i carry more pain than any man
I'm half metal, I'm prt metal too ever since I was knee high
Trust me i learned early, 11 mnths. i was walking and stomping by then

May i remind you I'm remaining silent, like Mirinda rights
... how she fixes things
And i tell you i still hit good with the pain 
And i know your blonde hair and your blue eyes
And I know the clue coming from Spain

Like I was nuesas, like I couldnt even respond to that comment - man!
And she's a diamond sparkling in my eye's when i tell her this
If I was'nt half metal I'd be hooked on that thing, still hooked

LIke them juices what you gonna do?
And your breast they're well formed I knew GOD knew what He was doing
And your face, let's just say that,  God gave you something to touch my mind with

I'm telling you it would be a pleasure just to be in a presence of a Beauty well
Like she was in the Palace, and The Princess, like she needed a KNight in Shining Armour
Like I was A-fraid, and THe ARMY be the Sword in my hand you bastard
And the dragon I be chasing after him, boy I ain't scared 
Bits and pieces of my song Justice league


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Emotional Hole

I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple 
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find 
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow


Details | I do not know? | |

I Stand, Alone



I stand, alone.

Scratching for my truths,
peeling away the veneer,

I stand, alone, before this
impregnable cliff so sheer.

Cocooned in my solitary shell,
wrenching a smile from a tear,

I stand, alone, a little odd,
and definitely quite queer.

I stand, alone.


Details | Free verse | |

Dying with a Smile

Love is an unspoken form of maschism
And it's slowly killing me inside.
Each minute of silence 
A lost beat of my heart.
My ribs are all knives now
Stabbing my flesh and making it bleed.
My heart feels vast, hollow
Cold,
Like a hundred story skyscraper-
its residents packed up and left suddenly with out so much as a note on the door
And their rent unpaid.
And each day my skin screams and tries to escape my body and I saw at it with broken glass in an attempt to set it free but I can't.
I am trapped.

And our love is the five ton anchor pulling me beneath the waves.
Our love is the air bubbles frothing from my mouth and the cries of my lungs as they are
filled with the sea.

And our love is the smile on my face that doesn't dare fade despite the pain.

Our love is the hope that soon
I won't need to breathe.
That the chains will break and set me free
To wash ashore with the millions of others and watch them stand up and brush the sand from their hair and turn to bask in the sun's embrace.

Our love is what breaks my legs, keeps my back to the sun and my eyes locked on the dark waters in the hopes that you will emerge and grasp my hand and help me stand! 

Our love will starve me
And burn me
And deprive me of sleep.
I will die for our love before I leave this shore without you by my side.
And maybe,
Just maybe,k
I can smile for once without the pain.


Details | I do not know? | |

Distant African Nights

Those Distant African Nights...


1.


The shadows swayed in your candlelit room,

a cool breeze teasing your bare back,


streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night,

as my hands stroked your hair,

kissing your soft mouth,

holding you,

ever so tight.



2.


You whispered that you loved me,

and I kept silent,


the rain fell, 
shadows danced,
thunder rolled,

the breeze teased your naked back,

you whispered that you loved me,
as my lips found yours,

the rain washed over our tender nights,


lightning and candlelight,

etching poems on your burnished skin,


yet,

a fear gnawed at me,

deep within.



3.


We parted ways,
and you could never forgive me, you said,


now, after numberless thunderstorms,

the rain that falls,


echo the countless tears that I have shed.



4.


You are long gone,

far away,

happy, I pray,


yet the memories persist,

those precious moments shall never, 
ever,

like the Jo'burg rains,
trickle away,

and I wish you well,
for loving me as you did,

for it was I who was not worthy,


then,


and it is I who is not worthy,


now...



5.


You were always true,


it was I who always,

always,

refused to,


to give myself,


completely to you.






Details | I do not know? | |

The Sieve of Time



The Sieve of Time



Cast ashore,
along the banks of time,

whirling through the passing years,
clinging to my futile scribbles set in rhyme,


Cast ashore,
thrust into an unrehearsed pantomime,

clenching slivers of joy as weariness descends,
lulled into a peaceful slumber exhilaratingly sublime.


Cast ashore,
hazily adrift, a dandelion seed on the wings of time,

trapped in the sieve of spiralling memories,
caught between pristine bliss, and reeking slime.


Cast ashore,
flung aside for no discernible crime,

my human heart thuds with elusive hope,
though battered, bruised, and covered in grime,

I stagger ashore, 

alone,

embracing each moment of detached, oblivious time.



Details | I do not know? | |

Death

The cries in the night as you shed your tears, 
Nobody to console and hear your fears, 
The nightmares as the take control, 
Now I shall show you my other face,
Let the nightmares take your peace,
Let the damnation steal your joy,
There is nothing left for you
There was never anything here for you
Death is a note, thats beauty is black,
As the fire inside let it burn you alive,
Death is friend that will take your pain, 
Let your pain fester, and infect,
Do what you wish before I interject,
Death is brother who needs your love,
The Funeral Pyres burn your soul.
Welcome to world where damnation reigns,
We all will die someday,
And Death will one day rule us all, its inevitable why try to hide,
Never to be loved to never to love, Death is a note,
A note that rules you


Details | Free verse | |

Memories Made

The coldest white had fell
Surrounding all the feet of those behind
The day turned into hours
Just in the mind
Did the gift appear in night?
Or were dreams reality?
Did it come from karma’s hands?
It drifts from sanity

The trek towards that happy place
You’ve been there many times
Something was different now
It held a horrible surprise
The box wasn’t full of life and sound
The ashes of memories made were here
Taking longer to twist the knife
Left remains of a child now in tears

Standing still you couldn’t breath
Excuses flying in your mind
Trying to figure out the scene
Hoping there’s time
You look up to see
Expectant eyes for the last time
You wish you could keep
But it’s the saddest of a smile 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Souvenir

Every night, we take the moon home. 
Split it in half,
and tuck it away beneath our ribs
for safe keeping. I always wince,
because of bruises that never 
heal but her smile kills that pain,
and when we get home
we get to dance under the same
light that led us to each other,
fashioning our love to the 
ceiling above, so it’s shine
can light the only world that
matters to us anymore. 
When we get home,
the rest goes dark,
and Earth’s rotation
adapts, forced to synchronize
with the steps of our feet
across the only real living room.
She says she’ll give it back 
when I decide the pain is
no longer worth walks in the
shade of rain.
t  e a s 
             ing   me with 
the zap of lightning’s charm.
But you see, 
this burdened cage of love’s misery
is a metronome’s swing to the 
beat of infinity. 
And so I press play on the 
heart of this, my favorite song
and once again, hold out my 
hand..and wait for her to
take my pain away.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Lyric | |

Wandering Alone

While wandering alone, with not anything  to do
My mind became packed, with selfless feelings of you
Photographs scattered on the floor, eyes well up
Stuffs I could have said, stuffs I should have done

The language of words that make two as one


Details | I do not know? | |

Within Me


Within Me

Flowing through the rivulets of my everyday thoughts,
memories of you surface, gasping for air, breathing in,
permeating, absorbed by the pores of my ageing skin.

Famished, greedily gulping mouthfuls of fractured life,
awash in distant yesteryear, when your feathery kisses,
banished the vacuum, dispelling my anguish and strife.

You are eternally carved, and embroidered into my soul,
I wash ashore, smashing against the boulders of the now,
seeking solace, begging for absolution with my empty bowl.

The book of fate is sealed shut, the tea-leaves have been read,
nothing remains within me, the burden of smiling has been shed.

Now I am stranded, between dreams and the empty years ahead,
searching for forgiveness, in the miles I have yet to wearily tread.



Details | I do not know? | |

She

She

She smiled, gently,
her warmth infusing me,
with a serene stillness of time.

She settled, slowly,
in my waking thoughts,
a soothing balm of simple joy.

She remains, scribbled,
on the walls of my fractured heart,
memories of happiness that once breathed...



Details | I do not know? | |

Illegitimi non Carborundum

Illegitimi non carborundum ;-)


...Staggering, my vision cloudy,


I fall to the hard ground.


when life’s sharp left-jab leaves my face bloody,


and all that surrounds me, is the desolation of loss I feel all around.



I see myself slipping,

down the abyss to where nothingness exists,


still, I cling on, groping for a foothold,

for my will to stay persists.



I clamber up, I stand my ground, though battered and bruised I may be,


my curtain is not falling yet, I have some fight still left in me.



It is then, in the pit of despair, when all seems bleak and painful and dull,


I summon the strength from deep within,


I rise, slowly, to face the day,


I refuse to sink,

to wallow, to surrender, to throw in the towel,


to drown,


for I am stronger now,


indeed I am, after all the years, and all the battles,


I stand, bruised and bloody,


still,


I stand,


I refuse, to sink, to drown,


for they can try, to punish me some more,


but I shall not allow them to grind me down…


;-)


Details | Free verse | |

The Sculptor

I feel Him chip away at my flesh.
The vibrations shake to my bones.
Pieces that were once part of me now fall helplessly to the floor.

Every scrape of the chisel,
Every pound of the hammer,
Every piece that is broken from me stings with immense pain.

Why doesn't He stop?
Why is The Sculptor so cruel?
Doesn't He realize that each swing He takes is a nightmare to me?

I would be better off as stone that was never touched,
I would be more content without the suffering that comes apon me,
But I wouldn't be a work of art.

Each chip of the chisel is intended to remove a piece that shouldn't be there.
Each pound of the hammer is meant to force the hideous fragments far from me.
Each move The Sculptor makes, takes me closer to His plan for me.

I must trust, knowing that He never takes off too much.
I must be ready, knowing that He never leaves His work incomplete.
I must be thankful, knowing that I am being made beautiful in His eyes.

The acute pain is only a short part of His plan.
The lasting anguish fades in its own time.
Though heart, and soul, and body all grieve, the permanent state will be that of finished work.

I may not know the reason for each strike,
I may not know the fault with each sundered chunk,
And I may never know.

I know the sting of the chisel now,
I know The Sculptor has a plan,
My part is to trust that He will not work forever ... but that He will be done.


Details | I do not know? | |

Port of Call

Port of Call


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

with the breath of the ocean a caressing balm,
soothing pained memories away,
to the swaying of a solitary palm.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

feeling the brushing away of all past turmoil,
on a quest for solace, ever so hard to find,
yet comforted by the crashing of the waves,
as the tide cleanses all pain,
and leaves despair far, far behind.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

drenched in a sea-breeze of mist,
that hushes the ache of bygone moons,
tasting the salty tang on my lips,
as the burnished sun,
over the distant horizon,
swoons,

and dips.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

searching, ever searching,
for a slice of solitude,
as memory bids a final adieu,
reaching under the sea so vast,
and seeking comfort in the depths,
while embracing,
the tomorrows to come,
wishing that they be true.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

seeing my truths drown,
as they slip beneath the turquoise waters,

feeling my heart ablaze,
with a passion that rarely falters.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

yet knowing that I am home at long last,
wishing the waves would wash away,
the defences that once stood,
like an impregnable wall.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

I have found, at long last,

my final port of call.


Details | I do not know? | |

Saturday Rain in Johannesburg

Saturday Rain in Johannesburg…


…With sighs of torrential passion,
the heavens shower teardrops,

weeping with me,
as memories of you come cascading back,

skin on skin, ablaze,
moist kisses, fiery,
gentle whispers of undying love, murmured,

in another life, another time,

far removed from my present, a desolate state of despair,
wallowing in the grime.

…

The rain keeps falling,
each teardrop stinging my face,

tasting the salt on my lips,

I wonder, do you still remember the caresses of my fingertips,

between breathy confessions, and vows of eternal love,

before you left me, stranded on an island of solitude,

wounded as a wingless dove,

bereft of life,
stripped of all traces of fortitude


Details | Free verse | |

Scars

She ran her fingers across my skin,
counting my scars as if they were legal tender. 
I thought about the moment when skin
breaks apart, when life has a chance 
to escape its cage.
I think she could see it in my eyes,
because her touch became a violent rush,
her nails hungry for the burst of 
what was wrought between us. 
And so, I bled for her;
Staining her hunger with the rage of scars 
she couldn’t see. 
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Faith Healer

The odor is intolerable
Like a foul beast clinging to the end 
I can barely subdue its subterfuge 
But here I am, 
I’m standing here of sound and mind
Waiting for the time that answers my own questions

Can it race with the fires of Orc?
Doubtful, but it can jog steadily can’t it?
The weather is awful, filled with sounds
Penetrating a document not written
It pains me to fight through the night
Not because it’s dark, but because I am just a shadow.

Lester drives but
Motional lasts forever
Still driving
Still crying
And slowly dying as time waves on
Like oceans that can’t be seen.

Nobody cares and everyone listens
Ironic, like a bible that holds lies and deception
Can its will be pierced?
Can freedom stay free?
Is it worth it to stay hooked when everyone around
Seeks liberty?


Details | Free verse | |

Storm

Nothing but a waste
you’re just a reckless disgrace
too much power
for a deceiver

It's not right
I see light
It's not near enough
for me to go 

It's my choice
so don't you treat me like a play toy
I'm not yours
to control

Cause I will storm in after you
If you take her far away from me
And I will storm in after you
If you take her to the grave with thee

You take our race for granted
and you're highly overrated
you're always taking
my friends

It's not right
I see light
It's not near enough 
for me to go

It's our choice
so don't you treat us like we're play toys
we're not yours
to control

I will storm in after you
If you take them far away from me
And I will storm in after you
If you try and take them to the grave


Details | Free verse | |

Fell Apart

i reached for your hand 
and you reached for my heart
in that same instant, 
we both fell apart 

fell apart into one another 
in hopes the other would be there to 
pick up the pieces 

i'm still broken 


Details | Free verse | |

Coming on Home

Coming on home,
in a rain storm on the 4th of July,
watching the neon colors of explosions
blowing high up in the dark, purple sky
spraying joy and happiness with designs
of man's love and creation.
Coming on home to a place
that is warm in the heart,
but cold in the mind of harsh memories
and of brushed fingertips and slashed backs
and broken bones and snapped spines;
warm in the heart... coming home to my baby
whose been gone for way too long,
and it's time for her to come home now!

Coming on home with a suitcase full of nothing,
and a book full of nothing,
and shoes and pants and a shirt and jacket filled with nothing,
coming on home with nothing,
nothing... at all-
Brains full of nothing but wasted air
and a mind full of broken dreams and worries
that snap in a moment's notice
without hesitation break my own back and snap my fingers
and blind my eyes with lye and grin at me,
as I come on home to nothing-

Coming on home,
homecoming,
a crown and sash(Homecoming King and Queen)
the dance, all the pretty girls dressed in white and blue
and the football game,
the home team loses by a touchdown,
but the kids they're still cheering and the cheerleaders do backflips
and smile and laugh,
the quarterback kisses his girlfriend on the fifty yard marker,
that was used for a battlefield;
(Boy, what a happy couple, voted the cutest couple in the Senior Polls)
Coming on home,
nothing special,
just another year with the same old heartbreak and sorrow
and same old smiles and frowns and dances and games
and cars that roam freely up and down the highways
and side streets going 90 in a 25.
Coming on home to a dark world
and for a moment everything is quiet
and sincere, and bang!!!
A high school romance that was never meant to become
was destroyed by envy and jealousy,
and this poem was written out of tears and a broken heart,
that has been shielded by smiles that hurt my face,
and tears held back that blinded my eyes,
and a scream that couldn't come out,
so it sits there, a lump in my throat
and this is the only way I can get it out,
by coming on home,
and writing this poem,
in peace and quiet.

.1.24.2014.


Details | Diminished Hexaverse | |

Tired

I’m just so Tired
Of Causing Pain to
Those that matter and
When I try to Help
I only Hurt them

I’m so Tired
Of Being Lost, my
Eyes burn, the water 
Is My sea of Pain

I’m Tired
Of Doing
Nothing Right

Tired
Of No

Worth


Details | Lyric | |

Vampire

To cause someone such a pain was not enough
Than to choke the void with shame would conquer love
To give someone this emptiness as a gift
You would fill the box with lies and wrap it up with promises 

So reach inside I just dont care
You wont find anything in there
Just a broken heart made of clay 
And arteries filled with a bitter taste 
I just thought I could be your friend
But your fangs were sharp in the end
What I see in your eyes is a liar
The beautiful death of my vampire

Turn on the TV to turn the silence down
Because the voices from inside they echo loud
Feeling dragged until the finger nails are all torn out
As the taste of my dying pleasure drips from your mouth

So rip my heart out through my spine
I'm sure it won't hurt as bad this time
You see Im not made from paper mache
I will not easily tear and just blow away
So you won't crumble me up again
And throw me away with the wind
My bitterness has cut a frown into your smile
The beautiful death of my vampire
~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Details | Rhyme | |

The Will To Want

© Ben Burton Feb 5, 2014

I view beauty with desire
But am seen through abstract eyes
Which begats a mystery
For I don't try to be that kind

The shattered pieces in my wake
As tea leaves wither in the brine
Leave only scarves to pacify
The punctured seal can't be revised

No posturing through symphonies
With trebled horns, but for the one
That is and was and shall remain
While hearts still beat and rivers run

Should I not come before I go
Indulgence can't be quantified
For every itch that is not scratched
Becomes a casualty to time

Yet, with decorum I imbibe
Without deception at the core
Or abrogation of the vow
Unto myself, no spawn of spore

And without mirror to reflect
The bounder from a boundless shore
Inspectors at the terminals
Will fruitlessly try to record

But DNA will not impeach
The gene which flawlessly imparts
Abilities to cherry-pick
The naivete of hopeful marks

So, to ourselves we need be true
From courtesan to bon vivant
And though restraint may be pursued
It will not kill the will to want


Details | Free verse | |

Love is Confusing

Oh love is confusing,
it has many definitions,
many tales of both fiction and non-fiction,
She loves him,
he loves her,
BUT WAIT! 
They both love someone else?
No true love anymore,
now it is like a compass
with a dial that spines out of control,
Go West-
Go North-
East-
and South-
...Yes- south toward the devils,
never north to paradise-
Love is confusing,
(a confession believed a lie-
See her now cry!)
He slaps her,
she sleeps with another guy;
an endless game,
an endless war,
back and forth (tug of war)
so true, yet so fake,
yet so brilliantly acted out
(watch the tear- oh how convincing-
watch the slap- oh that must have hurt-)
tonight I go to bed,
resting my head upon my pillow,
and look up and see the faces of my past women
and I think of where they are at right then.
All I know is they're not with me,
and that is just confusing.

.12.19.2013.


Details | Rhyme | |

Broken Wing Ruse

With broken wing

She tried to fly

A broken wing

The ruse she tried

On broken wing

The sigh, it died

For broken wing

Her lover cried


12Mar14


Details | Prose | |

Lead and Roses

I watched each letter weep and fall away as smoke consumed your incantations. I bet you thought you'd hook me again, that just like the paper in my hands, I would burn and let your lies seethe into my skin. You were always a master of deception, with eyes that grabbed hold of nerve endings, cutting deep within and shackling my spine with glorified intent. A chain of lead, wrapped in roses. I thought it was what I needed. The pain I felt then; something we shared. I never thought that you meant to leave me, a skeleton hanging from a crimson thread; surging your disguise into rotting vines. But though you tried to hide it, I saw the change. I felt your hands tremble over mine, as you told me it would be "okay". The blink in your once frozen stare, and the way your teeth sank into the clouds; escaping lustful lungs. I watched you kindle the fire we built together, as I grew colder before the dawn. Your smile; that shining flash of sheethed sincerity, slowly became scars in the break of mourning as the sun began its exorcism. Its light shined on sinew, urging it to pull itself free of a now vitreous capture. I knew then, that those eyes sought the marrow of me, I had to be free. And so, charged with its last rugged pulse, I sunk brittle bone into the heart of my love and let the rest wither under the purge of day. Leaving nothing left for you to feed upon. It took me years to heal, mending bone to flesh and heart to mind. Yet the day you sent this letter, I watched my pain turn to ashes, let the wind sweep you toward the echo of false promises and smiled at scars that helped me find the sun. 

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Oblivious Words

I feel wild desire
within a fingertip's touch;
Swaying gently out of grasp
like majesty in the distance consuming your desperate mind.
I see the hope
lurking amongst my own shadows;
Watching as a bright light
journeys through the unforgettable cloth
to shine on your precious skin.
I hear the twisted melodies;
Truth covered in veil
as lies conquer in the same likeness.
And so my tired ears throw trust
down the throats of those whom speak.
I smell the ink that rises from these pages,
in my wounded effort to heal.
But I taste the knots of forgotten love
dancing at the tip of my tongue,
so I picked up a pen
and wrote the words I could not say.


Details | I do not know? | |

with thanks to Don Henley

with thanks to Don Henley...

...an echo of her laugh

whispers past

a simple joy, a gentle breeze

of quiet reflection that can never last

the fleeting innocence once drifting along

then disappearing into the notes of that Don Henley song

the end, he sang, of the innocence once felt

of days and of nights of serene peace

gone forever now, 

for into the night's void everything must eventually melt

though the memories and the thoughts 

and the echoes of her whispers

settled this gypsy heart, putting it at ease

but that's all long gone now

even though the echoes of her whispers

seem never to cease...


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Anthem of Resurrection

Her anthem was silently set on fire,
 the wounds on her back ,
where wings had once carried
the burden of hope aphotic,
as the bleeding had ceased to flow.
 
                 Time has a way of turning fresh
                               lacerations to scar tissue.
 
She carried the weight with the
Grace she was promised;
Sewing  agony into
Bitter flesh.
Dulling  the ache with prayers
To her father,
Hoping a fallen tongue could
Reach the heavens.
 
He had promised her a sacred quest
..yet found her flawed
 
His eyes blackened with his own
shadows , his own burdens,
 impressed themselves on her a stain
...that tore the downy softness from
her.  She walked alone,
and in solitude found rings of fire
wherever her feet touched down
         ... and the charred smell of
                       something once hallowed
her own delicate feathers, scattered ..
those torn from the soft skin of her back
               corrupt with his sins...were set ablaze
 
And as the fire sought cleansing,
             She sought the remedy of a martyr.
Accepting the pyre lain upon her back as a gift,
          She found the resolution to become the
             renewal of the world that she was sent
                           To protect.
                              In the ashes of her span,
                                   Lies the fertile seed of a resurrection.
 
-Katherine Wyatt and James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

High-Reaching Hope Leading Destructive Despair

Being Near
It is impossible to say what Feeling is Stronger
Attraction
Nervousness
Paranoia
Or just wanting to wrap thou in an embrace for all the comfort that wants to be shown unto thee

This meager attraction that has sprouted dwindles by what you see in another
This case seems to be always present throughout these experiences
A sheer passing of Anxiety courses through when near this conduit of feeling
Of course, even at the Genesis of these feelings it was known what they were
Now, it just grows and threatens to burst at the seams

Ever expanding with every passing memory,
Every possible moment that could take place between the two
Every Glance in this dangerous direction

The Memories
How they haunt and stretch the Hopeful side
Leading to a fantasy that cannot take root in reality
Even if the seed has been planted
The Watering will never occur by both
In the same degree,

The Paranoia is perhaps a more pressing matter
Leaving this dreamer to wonder if their feelings are right in their place
Or just a calamity that is sure to follow these rushing tides of sensations
When your eyes are averted in a more hopeful and dreamy direction
When a more realistic approach is so near

Alas, I find myself in a pattern
Something that has become most vexing
This newfound desire seems much more realistic than the last few
Although, saying that fuels a Hope that should not have, perhaps, ever been allowed to be conceived
However,
With the progression of things these past few moons
That possibility of Hope growing is Becoming More
And More
Inevitable
With it, comes an even greater chance of Despair
That has ever been known 
By this poor stricken soul...



Constructive Criticism is welcomed for this, as well as suggestions that might want to be made.
Please and thank you!(:


Details | Rhyme | |

Love may be the remedy

The brightness of late summer light,
The songs of birds whose brood take flight.
I love to take in these earthly pleasures,
And so to fill my mind with treasures.

The conversations with my friends,
The closeness only death will end,
To share my life with those who care,
How could we have better fare?

Those who suffer pain and grief,
From whom love's stolen by a thief,
Let us take them to our hearts,
So their healing path can start.

Those who are fear friendship and love,
Who set themselves at too low worth,
Do they know how courage grows
Through acceptance of our woes

Life is tragic comedy.
Love may be the remedy.
Though if we give our hearts away
We shall have grief and pain to pay.

But if we lock our hearts up tight,
And keep all feeling out of sight,
We will wither like dead leaves,
Of our whole life we'll be bereaved


Details | I do not know? | |

Prisoners

There is a box inside my head, pushed right back , far away,
And my thoughts they tiptoe round it, as quiet as they may –
Just in case the lock is broken and the casket springs wide open,
And the strangling, dark, slithery contents cascade upon the floor,
And the horrors that lurk within rise and drown my thoughts out with a roar.

For the box is home to all my deepest loathsome shame,
The malformed, grinning, spiteful thoughts, crawling along half-lame,
Who converge and box me into a corner, and wail and clamour like a mourner
And beat me half to death with the awful things I’ve said and done,
And won’t even leave when dawn is nigh – they just eclipse the sun.

They pull back my sleeves to show the scars carved into my skin,
Remind me how I’m prone to neglecting all my kith and kin,
And how I became an empty husk and how, from morning until dusk,
I lay and wept for hours and hours, never quite knowing why,
And they whisper softly, sweetly, they won’t leave before I die.

Eventually, I find the strength to throw them back where they belong,
Into the dark, into the abyss, and I scream that they’re all wrong.
At last the torture session is done, and I can step out into the sun,
Let its gentle warmth soothe my latest battle aches and pains.
But even as I do so – always – the locked box rattles at its chains.


Details | I do not know? | |

Ludwig and Vincent

Ludwig & Vincent...


‘They said that you were mad, Vincent’, whispered Ludwig to a silent Vincent.


‘I still am, quite insane’, replied Vincent, ‘but you, dear Ludwig, you were deaf, and mad, I hear’.


‘I listened with my soul, Vincent, I heard it all without hearing a sound. Yes, mad and deaf indeed I too, still am’, Ludwig said, smiling at Vincent.


‘just look at them now’, Vincent replied, smiling with Ludwig, ‘look at them now, as they hawk sunflowers, blissfully oblivious of exquisite starry nights’.


‘yes’, smiled Ludwig, ‘look at them now, they crave joy, yet they cannot hear an ode, dear Vincent, they cannot hear it! They do not care enough to hear’.


‘Yes, dear Ludwig’, Vincent sighed, ‘they do not care enough to hear’.


Ludwig and Vincent smiled, each tugging an ear.


Details | Free verse | |

Tragic Breath

Tragedy walks to the beat of tone deaf tears...
falling waywardly onto shifting shores,
unsure of anything around him.
 
                             He wonders why it hurts to walk on something 
                                                   as soft as your cheeks;
 
and steps as if he might fall through
each bruise his unsteady feet conquer.
 
                          His breath burns.
 
                                                     His chest heaving under the weight
                                                        of epidermic ridicule he doesn't understand.
 
 
Why does love feel so much like hate? 
 
 
 
                                      Every footstep sends a longing coursing through her veins,
                                                      that makes every kiss bittersweet.
 
The fire keeps them honest I suppose,
reminding every lover the difference 
between joy and pain. 
 
 
Suffering together.
 
                           A blessing that no one seems to understand
                                           until death shudders down our throats.
 
In spite of it all, beauty stands still under the light that shines
down upon us all;
 
Showing the truth of why...
 
the breath of tragedy gives life to love.
 


Details | Free verse | |

Bygone Days

The sick sadistic people that torture the kid
Thinking of thoughts to fascinating in sin
Hiding behind a stature of loneliness he hates
A time warp in his chest it elates
Swaying through time with no cause or mentality
He don't want to feel like a congenital abnormality
Piercing his mind with no anesthesia
Mind caught in the lake of amnesia
Grasping towards another minoral fate
Sometimes in this bygone world its too late
Suffering a wraith in his vivacious serenity
So sad and unaware with no amenity
This boy has suffered for a time of days
Like most diverse and beseeching in many ways
But tampered with is his lamp of time
Puppet strings in his head now a mime 
The prescription of happiness is a lie
Bury the darkness as a maggot one day be a fly
This is the torture of a teen so young
Now no speech they take your tongue
Its over
Its over
Slit it in his own health
Slayed down for his enlightened death....


Details | I do not know? | |

Night

night falls
wounded by the days' plight

night consumes
all the hopeful fractured splinters of light

night recedes
into its desolate lair

night extinguishes
the roaring furnace of despair

night hides
from a bubbling desire reaching out to feel

night flees
leaving the jilted to bow down and kneel

night soars
breaking the chains of isolation

night rots
in the cellars of time's vacuum of desolation

night devours
the travails of the day that has past

night mends
the wounds that once were doomed to last

night returns 
faithfully as the day must retire

night settles
the doomed voices that mutter and conspire
night consoles
the weary mind and the restless heart so torn
night placates
knowing that night itself is darkest just before a new dawn

so

night freezes
all snapshots of the passing day

as

night embraces
the new while the old simply fades away


Details | I do not know? | |

WARNING: Soppy Love Scribble

Walk with me,
in this lonely world,

where hearts are casually broken,
and kind words rarely spoken.

Take my hand,
on this highway of brittle glass,

where love is traded like blue-chip shares,
and bank-balances are coveted as priceless wares.

Smile with me,
as we walk hand in hand,

as the ocean tickles our toes on the cool beach sand.

Smile with me,
and I shall smile too,

we may not have much,

but you will have all of me,

and I will have all of you.


Details | Free verse | |

Paranoid Betrayal

I feel a sense of paranoia sinking in,
Without reason, a fear that sinks deeper than the skin.

An anxiety of overwhelming power,
It grows in strength; hour after hour.

Debilitating as a morning after migraine,
The sole difference being that I feel no pain.

This melancholic strife is nothing new to me,
Living under the weight of social dystrophy.

Feeling isolated, feeling lonely, feeling hopeless.
Experiencing emotions of self-apathy and self-loathing.

A pity thought reserved for third world orphans,
Now without merit, has been cast upon mine self.

Desolate and barren,
The future renders bleak.

I've disappeared for years behind a mask of contentment,
Lacking autonomy until acceptance of this internal resentment.

It would be easier to stop. To just end it all,
But I have stayed strong to this point,
For I could never betray my soul.


Details | Curtal Sonnet | |

Sold

A quick transaction made
A soul seeking for deposition
Deposited in solid walls
Walls so opaque with no decorations
Walking with passion of sailing the future
Posted with an envy heart of gold
Lend to fears of withdrawal from the dust
Abandoned like a child of a monster
Throbbing with wounds of rejection
I am sold to destitution left by forefathers
Thrown to the field of ghosts and demons
Haunted all day and nights
Withering to all the shameful surroundings
Banked to the highest blazing fears of hell
Seeking for resurrection that shall set me free
I am sold, sold by the one who loved me
The one calling me a friend 


Details | I do not know? | |

They Do Not See Me at All

They Do Not See Me at All

they do not see me at all...

as I walk through these desecrated avenues

of soul-deadening frenzy

I see them all rushing past me

and no matter how hard I try to holler and to call

they do not see me at all

it seems at times, that invisible am I

for when I reach out, and shriek out, and when on my knees I crawl

they rush past me

for they do not see me at all

I have tried to raise their ire, I have taunted and goaded them, till exhausted and fatigued, to the cold damp ground I fall

still they rush past me

for they do not see me at all

I stand mutely then and wave my hands all around while scribbling verses in my unintelligible scrawl

and yet they rush past me

for they do not see me at all

they rush past me, knocking me over without ever looking back

and then trampling over my fallen form, they look past my limp crumpled shadow, as they whine on in their monotonous drawl

for they do not see me at all

and when at last I see them look my way, and as a flicker of recognition crosses their faces

I wish to crawl back into my nothingness

where they cannot see me at all