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Ty Townsend Poem
The feeling of a mind in a constant rotation
Regardless, the effect is a sensation
Erratic thoughts and a foggy haze
Trapped within an infernal maze
At a balance to fully exist
I’m an emotional masochist
My addictions will cause me to drown
Tip-toe between being heaven or hell bound
It’s easier to cease the pain with a pill
A quick way out- Maybe I will
It’s the ease of mind that I crave
To my addictions I am a slave
For they know I enjoy the pleasure
I keep them because only them I treasure
I fear no troubles for they are with me
They open my eyes for me to see
The fact of knowing I am sick
The realization I’m ok with it
Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2015
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Ty Townsend Poem
Her gentleness portrays softness, tenderness and humility.
Her gentleness is the definition of true strength;
a representation of consistency,
of determination.
Her gentleness shows the depth of her soul;
a soul filled with unconditional love,
a soul sensitive to treat others with kindness,
a soul genuine to herself that disseminates tranquility to those around her.
So alluring!
She captivates me from within.
She nourishes beautiful things to grow.
Her sweet benevolence cultivates my inner peace.
Nevertheless, this magnificent creature was persecuted.
There were those who belittled, degraded and disrespected her.
She was hunted down like an animal.
The prey of unruly predators.
Their weapons of hate were loaded with bullets
of hostility: an intentional intense dislike that thrives
on an elevated level of anger.
The barrage of bullets pierced through her heart
and penetrated the depths of her soul.
Her body became cold from the absence of her warmth.
No longer is there a sparkle because of those
who made her gentleness fade.
Now she believes her gentleness is a self-inflicted wound;
a wound shrouded in shame, embarrassment and betrayal.
However, I know it was her choice.
She was an embodiment of true courage.
Her gentleness is framed on the walls
of my heart for eternity.
Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2014
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Ty Townsend Poem
The taste of tobacco on my palate.
Exhale of the smoke from within my lungs.
For what it’s worth is this really valid?
Read scripture of a man who spoke in tongues.
Well, Lord! Another soul on the daily!
With words meant only for your ears to hear.
How to speak with you comes about vaguely.
The blame is on the alcohol and beer.
Asking for forgiveness for my mistakes.
Sorry I stole from the collection plate.
Can you help me with the body aches?
A lot of debt with my sins as of late.
Lord, you kept me safe even in my old age.
Continue my story till the last page.
Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2014
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Ty Townsend Poem
I relaxed on the couch to feel at ease,
the psychiatrist sat across from me.
This wasn’t any normal physician-
He was my subconscious personified.
A flow of panic surged through my body-
Beads of sweat slowly trailed down my face-
My heart began beating erratically-
My eyes darted in search of an exit-
There wasn’t an exit available!
The sense of fear was running down my spine,
I’m trapped within the walls of my own mind
taunted by the horrors that lie within.
The psychiatrist peered through my file
his eyes scrutinized every incident.
I coughed to break the silence in the room,
but it still constricted the atmosphere.
He initiated conversation:
a trivial attempt to gain rapport.
We discussed my past and current events.
Each story was surgically dissected;
it was torture being under the knife.
I was wide awake through the incisions;
helpless against the tools of a madman.
I grimaced through the pain of memories-
I opened old wounds then they were sown shut-
I’m plagued by a beast that lingers inside-
I need to run before I’m devoured!
My inner turmoil came to a close;
he arrived at a clear diagnosis.
He noted the cycling mood changes:
a constant battle between highs and lows.
The faulty sense of attachment issues
bred in from a childhood beginning.
Sporadic moments of self-destruction;
accompanied by parties and drinking.
The guilt from burning bridges to loved ones
constructed my imposed wall to the world.
He told me he understands my poems
and the theme behind each one I wrote.
From the introspection, private musings
love, temptations and whimsical humor;
it’s a way to channel my redemption
to add a purpose to this unhinged life.
The meeting was officially over.
I unraveled a new revelation:
I’m a continual work in progress
finding my road to a recovery.
Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2015
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Ty Townsend Poem
Masticate this thought for me, reader.
Basic stories of characters with settings and plot.
Occasional works of obscure fiction written in flamboyant diction.
Maybe television shows or whatever media your mind chose.
Why does life and fiction have similarities?
We’ve apparently became parodies.
Archetypes, tropes and plot devices according to our script.
Except it seems the audience is all applause and standing ovation.
Supposedly great ratings or bestseller.
You haven’t heard our success? Well, you’re a bottom-dweller.
Oh! You suggest a rewrite? A script change?
You'll be written out that can be arranged.
As Jaque said,
“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”
However, a rewrite can add layers.
Yes, dear reader-
You can be the writer!
Evolve a scene to make it brighter!
Sadly, ideas and influence are the base of your personality.
Unjust is this reality but that’s the duality.
Determine which truth is yours to follow.
Even if it’s slightly hollow.
Plot holes will continue to exist, because we can’t resist the perfect screenplay.
The poet of this musing is in the same boat as you.
He didn’t produce this particular piece.
You pondered enough you can cease.
There will be no riddle to guess.
It’ll only become a mess, you’ll be stupefied by the stress.
I used him as a medium to establish a connection;
a ploy of deception call it misdirection.
I am Death!
I’ve been around for centuries,
I’ve guided many souls to the afterlife.
The past is behind…
The present is set…
The future is unclear…
The end is nigh…
Remember:
Your health will deplete or an event will happen down the line-
Never forget that your soul is always mine!
Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2015
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Ty Townsend Poem
It was somewhere in Cambridge, when the amalgam of substances
began to cloud our judgment.
The changes were between vague and blatantly obvious, but
we were masters at this terrifying craft.
A small dose of opiates added with
at least two beers causes a distorted reality.
Nothing too off the wall except for the truth in knowing
you can’t fly among the stars above the mortals.
Four misguided miscreants let loose upon the England populous.
God help poor Britannia!
Usually at the helm of this godforsaken voyage, was Tony.
His plans were often of ridiculous proportions
many which either involved an attractive woman or
a ruckus full of dangerous consequences.
A vulgar yet honest vagrant.
Dante was a force to be reckon with.
Not only did he talk a big game, but he also delivered.
He was a Ciroc and Patron connoisseur with a
knowledge of the appropriate attire for any occasion.
A savant of the good life.
Rico was small but dangerous.
A mellow individual with words cool enough
to give the devil a cold shoulder.
The cool head amidst our savage expeditions
except when the spirits possessed him
causing a unique transformation.
A human wrecking ball of loose inhibitions.
Finally, there was me.
A laid back but slightly eccentric hedonist.
Forever seeking for any instant gratification and
always serving a dish of offbeat worldly wisdom to the masses.
An aimless joker who does what he please.
The streets of Cambridge are gruesome at night.
All types of freaks, monsters and nutcases
under the guise of party addicts fiending for the next fix.
We were just like these misfits
only further down the rabbit hole.
What seemed like a stroll into the seedy nightlife
soon became a submersion into another dimension.
Our mannerisms became over exaggerated.
The pleasant embrace of euphoria was as if
the good Lord touched the depths of our souls.
Warmth, peace and relaxation….
Tranquility of mind, body and spirit…
A transcendence into Nirvana…
Thanks to the sweet nectar from
the land of milk and honey.
Mother of God, this was amazing!
This is a high we didn’t want to come down from!
To onlookers we were madmen;
a product of the uncanny side of the spectrum.
However, little did they know
we were gods among mortals.
Our illuminating vibe attracted a
group of voluptuous women.
In this instant, Tony decided to seize the moment.
Using charms only he could apply, he
stated a question: “Hey! What that mouth do?”
The lovely raven-haired woman of the group
responded with an immediate action of a lustful kiss.
It was a mixture of seductive and sensuous
with a spontaneous flair.
The woman replied, “That’s what my mouth does.”
Tony was at a loss for words.
I had full belief this woman was a man-eater.
Somehow with a simple kiss she managed
to swallow Tony whole.
After the encounter, the group vanished
within the night.
Cheshire cat grins encompassed
our faces.
Even though this event was minor,
we knew it was the beginning to a series
of outlandish events.
Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2015
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Ty Townsend Poem
Your sensual touch
My lungs are harshly caressed
Exhale our foul love
Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2015
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Ty Townsend Poem
At my age, I believe I live enough.
Except life is what you make it;
a mixture of personal experience.
I indulge in carnal pleasures
to hit a climax of an euphoric ecstasy.
The kiss from whiskey-
It’s rough and harsh while burning my lips,
yet it caresses my throat with a pleasant singe.
Another morning of awkwardness
with a wayward seductress.
She came and went like a thief in the night,
but we were entwined in erotic poetry;
a sultry confidante of my vulnerabilities.
Just another sip of fresh poison,
and I delve into paradise.
However, the intoxication remains the same
as I mesh with other restless strays.
We’re all on cloud nine at this party!
The lights, music and substances are plentiful
for the burdened and heavy-laden.
There’s rest for both wicked and weary here-
Lay your demons down!
Maybe I’m in need of absolution…
or I’ll continue to construct these thoughts as the room is spinning
Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2014
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Ty Townsend Poem
The world doesn’t owe you anything-
It’s too busy collecting debt.
Nothing new is under the sun-
Ideas from old influence today.
No one really knows the turns of life.
We make it up as we go along.
What do you expect?
We’re only human, right?
Ask anybody.
Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2014
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Ty Townsend Poem
I’m a pacifist to the morning sun
even though it pushes my limits.
A warring battle between us
since I was young.
The constant struggle for
supremacy; a never ending affair.
My allies bed, comforter and pillow
are the best soldiers always ready.
These warriors are true fighters
till the end.
My protectors against our foe’s
piercing light;they are outmatched
no matter their strength.
Forever my fated enemy till the rest of my days.
I promise you, sun! You cowardly swine! We’ll win against your rays!
Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2015
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