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
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
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”
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.
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.
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
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
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
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