Gladiators

A bull whip crack on sunstained back.

An ancient tradition on dusted ground

Prepare for the fate of predictable outcome;

One chance to buy yourself,

One to gain freedom through victory,

And yet a thousand to die on the sand.

Fight for the coin to bring freedom

A chain undone through wealth

Live for the hope of a rudis

Salvation won through glory

Kill for the carrot on the stick

Die for the joy of the crowd

Artist

You are an artist

Maybe you haven’t figured out how?
What marble will you cut to form?
Start with whatever you can allow
So long as it breaks you from norm

Through your expression
You’ll find a new view
A lasting impression
Of the real you

Me, I’m a poet
The lost son of a storyteller
And a song
I try to make words dance
While I sing along

I learned that from stories
They tend to hit me like trains
Yet I just end up wondering
Where they’re going
And from where they came

Those thoughts drove me to write
To pick up the immortal pen
And move to banish from sight
The ignorance of myself then

We must all find what moves us
To give our voices something to say
Really that’s what makes it art
Whether it’s in sound or clay

We are artists

We protest with our creation
We show them our plight
Make known our indignation
And carry out our fight

We show beauty with our craft
We Highlight the curves of sky
Spreading light with each draft
To make the world less dry

We show heroes in our work
We inspire some valor
When the creatures that lurk
Expect us to cower

You are an artist
Don’t tell yourself you’re not
At least when you go down
You’ll know you fought

If You’re Reading This

I used to write a poem every week
In a post timed for that Thursday
It would start with convicted words
Every week the same thing to say

“If you’re reading this; it means that I’m dead”

You can’t go wrong with a classic.
At least that’s what I knew
When he’s just bored of living
What’s a depressed boy to do?

I thought there’d be something better
Maybe not a land of pure bliss
But at least some light in a tunnel
Just something better than this

See, every Wednesday I’d delete it.
Somewhere I knew it was just a page
My story couldn’t end in collapse
It had to continue with rage

Rage for those silently at war
Plagued by petulant voices
Enduring unspeakable things
But making loving choices

Rage for those speaking up
Against their collar and chain
Throwing their grandest effort
To make heard their pain

Rage for the sick and alone
Crying at their ghosts on the wall
Begging for a chance to know
Some peace before their fall

Rage, for those who didn’t delete the note
Who couldn’t see to their next day
Crushed by the weight of the world
So much they couldn’t bear to stay

It is through luck that here I stand
With my broken brothers in the fields
As the weight of troubled past
Clamors hard against our shields

That battle will never end
It just gets driven by a reason
Mine to stand with you that suffers
So we can get through the season

Let’s put aside the land of milk and honey
And just stick to earth for awhile
I found that light I was looking for
It was at the end of your smile

Now I write a poem once a week
I try to post them on Friday
They always start with invisible words
Each week, the same thing to say

“If you’re reading this; it means that I’m alive”

Only Human

Here we are again,
Pretending to be human

Seeing the dolls on the street
Silent faces in the sun
Why do you paint that expression?
Why do your colors always run?

As if you’re not electric noise
That got caught in some meat
Floating through our endless void
Looking to find your seat

All just pieces of a puzzle
Organized inside our skin
Scattered across desert sand
As if by someone’s whim

We separate ourselves even further
Probably because like to fear
That the guy somewhere across the world
Would be you if he landed here

Just keep on walkin’
I’ll do just the same.
After all;
We’re only human.

The Wick

I feel like a candle
Lit from within the wick

You’ll find my fire reaching out
Clawing against a waxy shell
Looking for room to breathe
And to dance upon a timely day

I often envy those whom quickly burn
From their heads and their feet
Both ends is a pretty effective way
If you’re hoping for people to see

But for all candles it ends the same;
The curse of fire will never fail
However bright we’ll just fall.
One puddle, made of wax

And just before that you find
As it breaks through its casing
That these flickers were practice
Learning to burn what I’m facing

You’ll behold grandiose performance
Built with fire, intrigue and woe
Maybe you’ll figure out why I did it
Or maybe I’m telling you now

Through that wax you can’t hear much
But -I- hear the flickers, all at once
And sometimes – they find voice

I feel like a candle
lit from within the wick
Until you come find me melting
You wouldn’t even know I’m sick



————————————————————————-
This one is intended to be somewhat experimental from me because as anyone who’s read the rest of these posts so far know, I really like rhyming conventions – so I tried to break away from that, not completely divorce myself from it as can be seen, but just try to structure the rhythm a little differently.

Pits

Spent my life diggin’ holes
In search of buried treasure
Or maybe a tunnel to China?
Just something I could measure

Maybe a few too many
A new one every day
Finding a new spot to dig
Just again to walk away

Sometimes I hit bedrock
’cause I’d try to dig too deep
pushing through the dirt
When I should be asleep

Still no tunnel to a better life
lyin’ somewhere beneath the ground
but it’s not all wasted time
There are yet a few things I found

A shiny locket
A little spring
A forgotten coin
What even is this thing?

So I guess not really much
Has been added to my wealth
Maybe it’s just been for the fun of it?
Is that what it is to find yourself?

Turns out you won’t find much movin’ dirt
You’ll mostly get it in your face
And you’ll surely wear yourself out
Tryin’ to keep up at someone’s pace

But there are worse ways to spend your life
Hey, it’s good enough for the moles
At least there’s a lot of room to grow
If you have a garden full of holes

Count My Rings

A split mind is a lonely problem
Not much different from clouded lenses
But it obscures far more views
And doesn’t stop at the senses

The tall man broke in to my house again
Right when I was about to think
He came for blood this time
He just wanted me to drink

I cleaned up that gory scene
Of the beloved cadavers in the den
The bodies were clogging the chimney
But that was now and this is then

What will I do tonight
With the thoughts keeping me up
Wrestling that faceless intruder
I’m unable to disrupt

Another night finding the flaws
Trying to play mind detective
Scouring for gaps in search of delusion
To find which me is defective

I’ll make an appointment now
To see the actors in the day
While they go through their motions
Putting on their play

Keep up with the professional strangers
They’ve got a new message to sell
No one will teach you how to drive this thing
But boy, you better do it well

How will they know our silent rage
Will you cut us open and count our rings?
Not worth trying to understand
Really it’s just one of those things

Like the windows of cathedrals
A shattered brain could build something new
Breathtaking images in with broken glass
Loosely held together by glue

You know what? forget it for now
We’ll have problems twice the size
Just hold me ’til the world gets brighter
And these demons leave my eyes

Sacred

Dogma can be found in words
Often thin as a page
But Sacred to those who believe
In the wars they wage

Collections of long forgotten rhymes
Lost rythms of joyous spring
Heavy notes of darker times
Candles flickered out in the endless night

But new tales keep being written
New songs continue to be sung
New hearts endlessly smitten
New pains constantly stung

The story true of human beings
Greater than any of our own
Our fellow us lost in eternity
Carefully bound between flesh and bone

[break]

Dogma can be found in words
But divinity is found in us
Sacred is the story heard
Heinous is the turned eye

Not much is surely hallowed
Stories, art, they seem to be
Holding people as just the same
Sacred is what we see

So sacred to me
So sacred as you

A reason to live

Remember the day that you died
And realize how you lived

By cherishing each tick of clock’s hand
And all the hurt that it may bring
Because the silence of winter’s stand
Is why it’s so good when spring sings

By grasping all whom you love
And showing all those you may
That their warmth brought your need to leave
So you demanded that you’d stay

By embracing the venom in your veins
Like sweet wine the summer sends
Eyes brightened by the taste of the moment
With no regard for how the party ends

You made love to your mortality
Like a girl that’s way out of your league
Savoring every moment of her favor
Because you already knew she’s gonna leave

So

If you’re just dust in the wind
Then gather a storm
Let your winds tear open your comfort
Because you’ve no time to mourn

If you’re but a candle to be consumed by the dark
Then let that light grow to swallow it whole
push the threat of the cold to the horizon
And color it with the splendor of your soul

If you’re a spark in a furnace
Then listen to the rhythm of hammer swings
Accepting the blessing of unbearable heat
So you can be forged from terrible things

If you’re a memory to be forgotten
Let it be one of passion and rage
Rampaging through time like a heckled actor
Betrayed by the very promise of your stage

Dance across the unlit sky
Leave your footprints between the stars
And burn your name in to eternity
Painting the heavens with your scars

The flaw of the immortal is mediocrity
With no need to act for lack of an end
Everything to see and nothing to fear
Is just having no message to send

Plant a kiss on the jaws of death
Thanking them for the chance to prove
That competing against certain defeat
Can be the perfect reason to move 

Fight with one determination
To move from the ledge and instead
You’ll just take a different leap
And if you don’t,
then you’re already dead