Luna’s Revolution

May 6, 2014
Creative Writing, Poetry
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She has the key
Her monoliths align
In perfect harmony
It belittles humanity.
Careening through a vacuum
Desolate , lifeless, yet
No being comes close
To her punctual cues.
No human whim can match
Her chaotic perfection
When the red moon displays
Her supremacy in motion.
While we struggle to accept
Each other in totality
We struggle with
Our feeble mortality.
She brings a glimpse
Of what great powers
Are capable of when they
Submit to her will
That man should not
Believe himself to be
Greater than her plot
Of human mastery.
For she locks us in trance
As she emits a lunar dance
To look in each other’s eyes
And see an eternal prize

Selfish Men

May 1, 2014
Creative Writing, Poetry
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She was always an object to the men in her life

They would say she is beautiful, breath taking, their go-to line

They never truly appreciate what dwells inside her

The mind of a scholar, the heart of gold, the wit sharp as a dagger

She bares a treasure far greater than physical beauty

Yet she possesses Aphrodite’s essence in entirety

Still so much more lay beneath her ivory skin

So much more stowed behind her saint-like grin.

That what selfish-men worship as her exterior is but a vessel.

No matter how finely ornamented, or perfumed it may be

The truth lives deep inside, far from selfish men’s reach.

And if God may strike the next selfish-man blind, he may at last witness

Her words of wisdom caress his heart in a pure bliss.

For his vision no longer betrays, and she, loved as a whole

Not for the objects a selfish man too often beholds.

The Rose Bush

April 30, 2014
Creative Writing, Poetry
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Misplaced affection steals my heart
It hides in a delicate looking bush
Quaint and colorful, full of life
Red, white and green envelope my vision

As I creep closer, I am met with a fragrance
One that drives deep into my senses
A passion one cannot hope to contain
It takes me prisoner, and I hardly struggle.

The closer I get as it reels me in
I see what may be needles in the thicket
And as my hand grasps for a flower
I wince in foolish agony.

For I was mistaken at first glance
This bush hides a terror
Far outweighing its splendor
And I recoil, my hope now razed.

 

The End

April 29, 2014
Creative Writing, Poetry
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Have I hit the bottom of the well?

Is it time now, for a new beginning

For a new heart to swell

With love, instead of its petulant pining?

 

Can I now climb into the sky

Where robins chirp in gaiety

Where dreams are never too high?

Can I now rid my heart of frailty?

 

Is this the end of an era

Where drear thoughts roaming at sea

Now give way to a golden terra;

To beach my vessel, and set my love free?

 

To roam virgin lands

Which before lay beyond my reach

To plunge my feet in warm sands

Where gladly my tired toes breach.

 

 

 

 

 

Death Blow

April 23, 2014
Creative Writing, Poetry
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It hits like a breath of fresh death.
Reliving days now six feet under,
rekindling memories of affection and treachery.
No escape from the blinding actions of my youth.
No longer do I fear the end,
no longer do I fear oblivion,
the nothingness that may envelope my soul as I
walk away from your overwhelming presence… after all,
you’ve got quite the reputation for doling out death-blows.
So I’ll take my chances out on that lonely road.

Inebriation

April 18, 2014
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Sleep evades me, like the normalcy I’ve strode after

It hides in a crevasse, too deep for me to reach

The cracks swallow it whole, a natural disaster

All I can do, is get on my knees and admit defeat

 

Bottle after bottle, I find myself three sheets

And more to come, I’m powerless

I’m just a vessel for this demon’s  treat

The passenger returns, it’s choice is drink.

The Unstoppable Force and the Immovable Object

April 7, 2014
Creative Writing, Poetry
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He looks on in amazement
At this woman thrust into his life.
Without choice or regret
He is torn between the light and
The dark corner he’s spent
Most of his life.

It’s happening all over again.
Boy meets girl, boy falls for girl,
Boy destroys himself trying to abstain
Boy loses himself in another
Of his darkest realms, created
In the mind that can’t know any better

He doesn’t know what is real
Or what is forged. He’s confused
It eats him alive, it tears at his soul.
He lets no one else know, he lives alone.
Yet he wants terribly to love again.
He just wants to once again, feel.

Hope: In My Head

April 1, 2014
Creative Writing, The Pointless Posts
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Hope is everywhere if you look for it.

It is in the green lights you get when you are late for a rendezvous.

It is a newborn baby’s cry, entering the world in a fit of confusion.

It is the seed sprouting its first tendril into the rich soil.

It lies at the bottom of a fountain resting with the desires of many.

Hope transcends in different form to all. But I find it of utmost importance to our human psyche, that we continue to hope in the eye of danger or uncertainty.

For the car you are driving may swerve uncontrollably, negating the lucky-light draw.

The babe may cease its cry due to a cause unseen by the practitioners.

The seed may soon be tainted with ghastly elements we pour into the earth.

And the coin you lay your dreams upon, may never be selected by the Gods.

We cannot allow ourselves to dwell upon those technicalities, for what will happen, will happen uncontrollably, sometimes inexplicably. But with hope, these negating possibilities needn’t bring us down. With hope, the negatives never shine through. They don’t plague our train of thought. With hope, we can simply look toward our desires and feel happy that they are even a possibility in this hectic world.