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He Had It Coming

March 25, 2013
Creative Writing, Poetry
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You call off the search before the body’s unearthed.

You know of its resting place yet you are silent.

You call off the search, citing impossible circumstances.

But what do they do? They follow the silent whore.

Chasing the sound of a Siren at work.

 

Only you could have purged his demons.

Yet you threw away the key.

You had a knack for condemning a true lover.

Sending them to the gallows for terminal affection.

 

Alas, not even a pitiful tear wet your steely eyes,

as you pulled the lever stiffening the rope

with a deafening crack. And you laughed.

You still laugh to this day. “He had it coming”

You dare say.

I Am America

March 22, 2013
Creative Writing, Poetry
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I would like to lighten the mood this time ’round by letting you all see my FIRST ever graded poetry assignment. Okay sure, it’s not my FIRST EVER POEM. But it is the first one that my Sophomore English teacher allowed the students to have free reign and didn’t limit our vocabulary by allowing us to vent frustrations in the form of profanity if need be –only if it was used appropriately and not simply taking advantage of the opportunity– . The topic was “being an American” and what that specifically meant to you. Here is my version

I am America

I have the right to be free

The right to be me

No limits on what I say

If they try I’ll make them pay

No matter what you do,

The president won’t give a damn about you

I am free

No one will take it from me

You don’t believe me?

Then look at all the people in Iraq dying

Or, coming home to see their family crying

What’s a life to him but another dime?

He says he gives people everything but never any time

I am free

No democracy for me

Because dying for him is like a sin

I am an American

Free to roam the lands

Free to graze the sands

Free to break the laws as I choose

He can’t tell me what to do

No matter where or when

I won’t condescend

Not for his government

I’d rather pitch a tent

Or live in Willow Glen

I won’t give in

Not for him

Fighting for a nickel off the gas price?

He’s skating on thin ice

As a kid I watch the bombs falling,

Troops crawling

Dodging another bullet

It’s bullshit

Risking their lives for a guy

Who just watches his country die

Working for him is like rolling a pair of dice

You either get the Snake Eyes or you score a six twice

Nothing more to say

I realized I was free today.

I am an American

Sometimes the Past Hurts More than the Crash

March 22, 2013
Creative Writing, Poetry
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No longer in control. With every attempt to escape, the dark passenger refuses to fold. Lost in a daze through a mind turned maze. Every corner a new face, thought to be erased; a fresh ping of desire, one more log in the fire. Though no light breaks the seal, the burning sensation is soon revealed. The past becomes present. My future; non-existent.  

Ghost Man on Third

March 22, 2013
Creative Writing
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Again, these dreams they haunt me

This familiar sense of being led astray;
urging the one you love to love another.
Just digging the knife deeper
to an everlasting slumber.

Wake up, cold sweat, I wonder…
If it you I’m laying with?
Oh no, looks like that herb has
Given me more than just a kick.

Now let’s get down to business,
I’ll be your witness
Close the blinds, turn on the lights.
our fans are waiting for us
To continue this fight

Now it’s two men down,
One more to go;
In this game you love to play.
The game of never give
And always take.

Yeah It’s the bottom of the 9th girl.
And we are out of options.
You have everything to lose.
For me all I had was you.

Now there’s nothing where
A fire burned before.
Just the ashes of a letter
With the signature forged.

Give it your best shot,
And don’t aim for my heart heart.
I guarantee you wouldn’t come close
It was never there from the start.

I learned to let it go when
All it did was take your side.
It couldn’t prove its worth
When you left me to die.

Though don’t think I’m stalling,
I’m braced and ready.
After all this is not a solo show,
But a game played by many.

Still if it makes you happy
I will take the fall.
So you can go pro
And home I will crawl.

 

Motion of the Ocean

March 21, 2013
Creative Writing
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It would seem I have lost a few readers with my last two installments so I am hoping a bit of self-loathing will be enough to reclaim my followers. So I give you a poem with a slight nautical twist 🙂

This room, dark and cold.
Regret, Through my veins it flows.
Waiting for the morning light;
When I can put this shadow on hold

Breathing with ferocity
It’s darkness frightens me
But why can’t I see?!
Blinded by duplicity!

(The itch it slows, The sun has risen)

Thoughts produced are cynical
This sanctum drives me clinical
But what is a shy guy to do?
What is a shy guy to do?!

I just bottle these emotions
Inside they rage like oceans
A sea of thought
Crashes against my lips, it rips
Right through my bones, it hits
Like nothing ive ever known, And this
Tidal wave resides inside
With the tide I’m low and high
And what comes next, no one knows best
Im just along for the ride

The Puppet Show

March 20, 2013
Creative Writing
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Love has no expiration date
yet you stamp one regardless
You mix the feeling with hate
And fail to keep it harnessed
Blame the one you love
Or dont love at all
Seems to be the way you run
Love in the shape of a gun
You shot me just for fun!

you run them into the ground
You push them then wonder “how?”
Now let me explain
Your love means nothing!
With you its just pain!

(A pain you must refrain)
(If you want to take a ride)

I tried to let you know
You never listened
Caught in your own thoughts
Well mine were on a mission
Still I’ll feel sorrow
For the next man you borrow
with your Green eyes, inviting thighs
Lips that could Make an angel try
We never stood a chance
Trapped in a false prophet trance

At least he wont worry long
you’ll toss em out when he “does you wrong”
Then its on to another
Maybe his FUCKING twin brother!
After all any man is good for “bang bang”
Even ones with the same name
you can testify to that
I’ll pick a name out of my hat!

Now dont get me wrong
Im no perfect soul, though
I’d still try to make you smile
In my mind you’re running wild
All has lead me down the path
To internal virulent wrath
None which can be overturned
When will you ever learn?!

Tell me yes or no
Did he really have to go?
yes or no?!
what affection have you shown?!
“None” is the answer we all know
Just incase I’ll ask the one you blow
On second thought, I’ll wait
Soon enough he will know!
When he curdles like the milk you throw
You know his time is over
When the words he speaks grow mold
Is it time you let him go?
Take initiative, and end this puppet show

If Time Stood Still

March 20, 2013
Creative Writing
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If time stood still your first kiss could last forever. Arms wrapped around each other with the aromas of both bonding like hearts do when lover’s lips touch for the first time. The glow of her smile would never dull, the softness of her skin would never fold. Her bright green eyes would beam at night. And his flowing words would forever be heard. If only time stood still.

Love’s Last Hurrah

March 18, 2013
Creative Writing
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My heart knows not days, weeks, months or years.

It knows not the sub-zero Winter or the gale winds of Fall.

It knows not the pleasantry brought by another’s call.

It knows not the twilight before the darkness of night.

Nor the Rooster’s cry when sensed the sun’s faintest light.

—

It only knows of the warmth her porcelain skin emanates.

It only knows of the swift step in her royal gait.

It only knows of the smile that shatters inhibitions.

And of Cupid’s arrow, flying true to its mission;

urging miles traversed, only love could coerce.

—

All conscious moments lay still in a last embrace.

The scent of her hair, the glow in her eyes,

For nothing since has given reason to rise.

What to do?

March 18, 2013
Creative Writing
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I’d sell my soul to the devil just for a day when I don’t feel so hopeless and gray. If it meant I’d find a lover, I’ll sign the dotted line. Just take the pain away, if only for a day, and you can have my soul, to hell and damnation I’ll happily go. Just let me rest my lips, one last time, my final kiss, the fireworks, the heavenly bliss, before my final day. To hell and damnation! If it’s the only way.

The Resurrection of my Dark Passenger

March 15, 2013
Creative Writing
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Since the Dexter series began in 2006, I was fascinated with the “Dark Passenger” concept and I wrote my own poem to reflect the battles I’ve had with my own “Dark Passenger”. Albeit without the murderous tendencies of Dexter in the actual series. I hope you all enjoy.

EDIT: In order to give credit when credit is due, I must also commend GlassJaw (Band) for inspiring me to write about my “Dark Passenger” in this light. If you listen to some of their music; you will see what I mean. 🙂

I’m dead you’re fed get out of my head!
How did you even get in?!
I was fine before you
Now I can never go back

You took the first shot
Injected your poison with urgency
My limbs they seize
Lips speaking of sin
Dark passenger resurrection 

(I was fine, now I pine my time)
(pine it away with a quick line)
(Take my tequilla with no lime)
(This time is mine to pine)
(for whatever time is left of mine)

This ghost I thought was dead
Waits to claim a bounty on my head
Hoofing and snarling
demands to take the reigns
This dark passenger
Returns in your name

Dont you see what you have done?!
You sing the song unsung
Now my soul is taken by another
A soul much darker than your mothers
It laughs at my attempts to pursuade
I try as my memories fade
trapped with one way out
It begs me to never doubt
“This is for the best”
“please take your last breath”
Do you hear Its words?!
“This is for the best!”
The fear it grows
“Take your last breath!”
of dying alone
“It was for the best”
Now my head is laid to rest…