Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Jan 2013 · 964
Get In My Room
BarelyABard Jan 2013
I have some bad news baby.
Writing in pencil wears thin
And a pen will just smear the words away.
You're angry and hurt.
Voices linger in their echos and your screams can't find a way to drown them out,
But shouting at an astroid won't make it turn tail and flee, so put on your gloves and grab something sharp.
The throats you may have to slit are only there to reload another round of insults.

Keep it up baby, get in my room and slide your dress off. Lets put that anger to some good use.
BarelyABard Jan 2013
I lit a match and watched it burn.
When the flame started to lose its strength and began to die,
I held another one up next to it.
The dying one sprang back to life and ignited them both.
Together they created a flame larger than one by itself ever could have mustered.
They stayed interwined until the flame died and their ashes flew off with the wind.
Jan 2013 · 635
Being Afraid
BarelyABard Jan 2013
You are the creeping up my spine and the twitch whens you wake up in total darkness.
I am the the coil around your ankle and the blade in your heart.
I am the man in the front of the gun, screaming for the trigger.
The hounds of hell at your heels arent always your enemies and the best thing in your life could be what hurts you the most.
Am i afraid?
Of course I am afraid.
Fear makes visible what actually sets me on fire. Standing up is all we know but what are we even standing for if we arent reaching out to lift off the ground and dive into black holes with laugher in our hearts?
Dec 2012 · 963
Nothing's How It Seems
BarelyABard Dec 2012
Let the sweat drip down your brow.
Never again. Never again.
Turn your eyes up to me now.
Always will.
I Always will.
I wrap the flames around my chest.
Keep them tight.
Fill me with light.
The ugly side of me ceaselessly caressed.
The pawn, he moves.
The knight, he takes his chance.
The queen strikes a deadly blow.
The bishop slips quietly out the door.
They stare into me, unaware of what appears.
"Do you think I enjoy finding difficulty in caring for you or myself? A hell that I am glad you cannot comprehend."
Indeed, he has a heart.
Locked away in a place no mortal shadow will ever find.
Until it is set free.
The sun moves in it's preordained path.
Never questions.
Never wonders.
Never dreams. Never laughs.
The ocean lives forever under the sun and the moon.
Endless life from endless strife.
Would we still live if the sun and the sea could feel?
Pain and anger? Loyalty and love?
Humanity would be burned and buried under its own hatred and avarice.
His heart in the cage is not a crime.
He still feels pain.
He still laughs and smiles.
But it will not consume him whole
until he reaches in his soul
and fills that empty hole
with the hand that haunts his dreams.
to prove that nothing's how it seems...
Dec 2012 · 782
Build A Wall
BarelyABard Dec 2012
Build a wall, but not too high.
One that cannot touch the sky.

For then the rain can never reach
all that its drops are meant to teach.

Build a wall, but not too strong.
One that can help you along.

A wall that never will prevent
the beautiful and pure ascent.

Build a wall, but not to wide.
So you can still allow inside

a little pain, a little love
from down below and up above.

Build a wall but let it known
this wall is not made out of stone

The cement's made of hope and fear
and anything that might appear.
Dec 2012 · 912
An End To White
BarelyABard Dec 2012
I could see nothing around me but freezing white.
Snow covered the trees.
The cars broken down here and there.
The house of the rich man was covered along with the poor.
We all were struggling to trudge through the white and the cold.
Men and women alike fell around me and never stood up again.
They let the white consume them.
I wanted to all as well. It seemed easier that way.
Someone was walking along though. He looked like any of us.
But where he stood, the snow melted and he was free to walk as he pleased.
Most ignored him but I stared. He looked at me softly and walked over.
He touched my chest and turned away.
I watched him fade into white.
I started walking and the snow around began to melt.
I saw green grass beneath me.
I smiled and looked up.
A young woman was looking at me.
I started walking over to her.
Dec 2012 · 1.4k
I'm Sorry Dad (A Song)
BarelyABard Dec 2012
Im sorry dad but this bottle makes more sense than those cryptic psalms ever would.
Im sorry mom but the world isnt what you wish it was and you did the best you could.

These crazy people screaming at each other like a train whistle blaring heading straight into a lake.
The devil on my shoulder laughing, singing, dancing, watching chaos become all its born to be.
The angel on my shoulder crying, preaching, misbehavin holding signs against a ******* company.

****** preacher man and ****** uncle sam cant you see that you see that all you do is spill the pork and beans?
Ill sit and cigar haze and my *** and beer soak daze and wish youd all just shut your ******* mouths.

I'm sorry dad but this bottle makes more sense than those cryptic psalms ever would.
Im sorry mom but the world isnt what you wish it was and you did the best you could.
BarelyABard Dec 2012
Out in the West Texas town of El Paso I fell in love with a Mexican girl. Night-time would find me in Rosa's cantina Music would play and Felina would whirl.

Blacker than night were the eyes of Felina Wicked and evil while casting a spell. My love was deep for this Mexican maiden I was in love but in vain, I could tell.

One night a wild young cowboy came in Wild as the West Texas wind. Dashing and daring A drink he was sharing with wicked Felina The girl that I loved.

So in anger I Challenged his right for the love of this maiden down went his hand for the gun that he wore. My challenge was answered in less than a heart-beat, the handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor.

Just for a moment I stood there in silence, shocked by the foul evil deed I had done. Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there I had but one chance and that was to run.

Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran Out where the horses were tied. I caught a good one It looked like it could run Up on its back And away I did ride just as fast as I Could from the West Texas town of El Paso Out to the bad-lands of New Mexico.

Back in El Paso my life would be worthless Everything's gone in life, nothing is left. It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden My love is stronger than my fear of death.

I saddled up and away I did go Riding alone in the dark. Maybe tomorrow A bullet may find me Tonight nothing's worse than this Pain in my heart. And at last here I Am on the hill overlooking El Paso I can see Rosa's cantina below My love is strong and it pushes me onward Down off the hill to Felina I go.

Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys, off to my left ride a dozen or more. Shouting and shooting I can't let them catch me, I have to make it to Rosa's back door.

Something is dreadfully wrong for I feel A deep burning pain in my side. Though I am trying To stay in the saddle I'm getting weary Unable to ride

But my love for Felina is strong and I rise where I've fallen Though I am weary I can't stop to rest I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle I feel the bullet go deep in my chest

From out of nowhere Felina has found me Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side Cradled by two loving arms that I'll die for One little kiss and Felina, good-bye
BarelyABard Dec 2012
I'm sick of constantly having to update everything.
This system is out of date, rise to our level.
Everytime I want to unplug from the system, life reminds me that while I am still alive and breathing in this moment of our short human history, it is impossible to stay unplugged.
People posting on their facebook walls love letters to their new crush, or to starbucks, or our lord and ******* savior. I wonder if God has a facebook. Imagine the notifications that ******* has to have by now. "Woah! Sherry from Wisonsin tagged me in a post about how much people should love and thank me! I mean, she could be out trying to make friends with the girl she was mocking in the breakroom, but thank Me that she spent time to tag. Guess its time to check my twitter feed."
I am drowning in this sinking ship of updates.
Dec 2012 · 647
My Romance Life
BarelyABard Dec 2012
A pretty girl smiled at me yesterday
and I thought of nothing cool to say.

So loneliness is the price I'll pay
because I just let her slip away.
BarelyABard Dec 2012
A letter from unknown.
British Expeditionary Force, Friday December 25th 1914.      

   
"My Dear Mater, This will be the most memorable Christmas I've ever spent or likely to spend: since about tea time yesterday I don't think theres been a shot fired on either side up to now."

"Last night turned a very clear frost moonlight night, so soon after dusk we had some decent fires going and had a few carols and songs. The Germans commenced by placing lights all along the edge of their trenches and coming over to us - wishing us a Happy Christmas.
Some of our chaps went over to their lines."

"There must be something in the spirit of Christmas as to day we are all on top of our trenches running about ..."

"After breakfast we had a game of football at the back of our trenches! We've had a few Germans over to see us this morning. They also sent a party over to bury a ****** we shot in the week ... About 10.30 we had a short church parade the morning service etc. held in the trench ..." 

"Just before dinner I had the pleasure of shaking hands with several Germans ... I exchanged one of my balaclavas for a hat. I've also got a button off one of their tunics. We also exchanged smokes etc. and had a decent chat."
"They say they won't fire tomorrow if we don't so I suppose we shall get a bit of a holiday - perhaps ... We can hardly believe that we've been firing at them ... it all seems so strange.
With much love from Boy."
Dec 2012 · 716
Up A Tree.
BarelyABard Dec 2012
Come with me
and you will see
when we are up Up UP a tree!
The branches strong,
so come along!
Up UP UP a tree!
We climb so high,
We touched the sky.
So lovely up Up UP a tree.
The wind will say
its time to sway
So far up Up UP A tree.
Then men below
Move to and fro
While we are up Up UP a tree.
They look so sad,
but they'd be so glad
when they're up Up UP a tree.
So if your blue,
Here's what to do.
Go outside
in joyful stride
and climb up Up UP a tree.
Dec 2012 · 626
Drown In It
BarelyABard Dec 2012
Do we not dream of places where the dead are no longer dead and faces are easily changed from person to person.
The rain may be nothing more than our hopes crashing around us.
Maybe it soaks us.
Maybe your tears mix with the rain and become your fears crashing along with your hopes.
So you run. You run as fast as you can.
And your sweat pours out and falls with the rain and the tears.
Let your sweat be your guide.
Let it be your rage aginst this world.
Let it be life.
Let your dreams fill with hope and fear and rage.
Flood this world with it and drown.
Drown and life and become whole.
Dec 2012 · 1.7k
Pout Pout Cry Cry Boo Hoo
BarelyABard Dec 2012
There is more to words than pouting words from a boy or girl that broke your poor little heart.

Look in the history of man and find what you need. Instead of what you want.

Seriously.
Stop.
BarelyABard Dec 2012
Indecision is the key

to destroy adversity.



And ignorance is justified

when fallen kings see eye to eye.



For I've not seen a greater sin

than being told you cannot win.



Oh, how's there more an awful act

than stabbing yourself in the back?



Take heed that freedom won't be known

'til fear of fear is overthrown.



And then your eyes will truly see

that nothing's better than being free.
Dec 2012 · 831
Live In Shame
BarelyABard Dec 2012
I think this *** makes more sense than you ever could.
The part that thinks it wouldn't, knows of course it should.

In my drunken haze, I run naked in the rain.
The stars let me know there's no need to live in shame.
BarelyABard Dec 2012
I drink red bull and orange juice with a splash ***.
Then I play screamo speeding down the highway
getting ready to topple kings.
I am the kind of guy that smokes cigars in the shower then dances his way to the kitchen to make a peanut butter and jelly.
If there was in an absolute zero in the amount of ***** a human being can give, I wouldn't even try to calculate it because that will prove my point.
I watched a woman get punched in the face by another woman over a ******* blender and I watched a poor man give a dollar out of a broken wallet to a charity.
These things seem to not make sense to some
To me it does.
You think the world is mostly bad?
You think the world is mostly good?
You're wrong.
You are all wrong.
Speaking in absolutes will put you in the same place as the tyrant that you are constantly ******* about.
If you want to save the world, there will always be people trying to stop you.
If you want to destroy the world, there will always be people trying to stop you.
I am the man in the background eating popcorn and getting miffed because my soda is almost empty and I might have to get a refill.
These are the kings I topple.


YOU
ARE
THE
KINGS
I
TOPPLE

For the love of god shut the hell up and smoke a cigar in the shower.
Dec 2012 · 1.0k
Never Wake In Fear
BarelyABard Dec 2012
Oh I never wake in fear

at men who scream and men who sneer

and people chanting, "hounds draw near!"

Oh I never wake in fear.



The ignorance of jeers and hate

are always thrashing at the gate,

but all they do is seal our fate

for I never wake in fear.



The warden points and dogs do bite

in finding ways to prove what's right.

While all we do is breed despite

and I never wake in fear.



His lasting words, a dying impression

draw from wrath a pleading confession

laughing at a virtue regression

still I never wake in fear.



You hope they shiver at your blade..?

At all the WONDEROUS things you've made?

When all their morals, you invade?

Strange I never wake in fear!



How you claw, to fully erase

the hopeless, foul things in this place.

When mirrors are your only face...

why can't I ever wake in fear?



My time is done, my mind is clear.

Yet, still I wonder why I'm here...

With hope, one day, I'll shed a tear,

the day that I wake up in fear...
Dec 2012 · 625
Trees In The Wind
BarelyABard Dec 2012
I hear the trees speak in the wind.

Whispers of grandeur and long forgotten majesty.

Arms grasping to the heavens, always reaching.

Do they not live and die? Do they not breathe and live?

Roots grasp for water like tongues parched in the desert.

Do they not grow? Do they not bleed?

I hear the trees speak in the wind.
Dec 2012 · 614
8MM
BarelyABard Dec 2012
8MM
When you dance with the devil, the devil don't change.

The devil changes you.



-8MM
Dec 2012 · 448
We
BarelyABard Dec 2012
We
It does not matter whether god is here or not.


Because we are here.
BarelyABard Dec 2012
You are the one who can play the piano keys of my heart.
You can pluck the strings of my dreams. An orchestra of romance and tranquility and a concerto of gentleness and fire.
Memories and ghosts haunt us all and keep us afraid.
They tighten us and whisper in our ears that we are failures and that we deserve to be in pain.


I can be the exception.


I can be the voice in your ear.
What they said does not matter.

Ghosts cannot survive in the sunlight, and I want to bathe you in it.
I want to make you feel as beautiful as you are.
As long as you are smiling, the earth will spin a little happier and the stars will burn a little brighter.
As long as you keep the fire in your heart, hope for a reality better than this remains.
Close your eyes.
Let go of your fear.
Listen to me when I tell you that you are why the sun is so eager to poke his head over the horizon.
I will whisper in your ear and I will hold you.
I will be the exception.
Be brave my love.

Stay you.
Dec 2012 · 463
Playing With Fire
BarelyABard Dec 2012
I am playing with fire,
because apparently I haven't learned.
I'm playing with fire,
and I am not the one who will get burned.
Dec 2012 · 755
The Waves Of Others
BarelyABard Dec 2012
I want what I will never have and I have what I could never want.

I look in the mirror and see a man, or what the world says a man should be.
I see strong shoulders and I see eyes that are doing their best not to turn cold.

At times I see a stranger.
A ghost.
A figure that just wants freedom.
But what is freedom?
Is freedom giving up and letting the waves of others carry you away?
Is freedom constantly fighting to stay above water and getting funny looks in the street?
I ask the man in the mirror the same question and he just shakes his head and walks away.
A boy is left standing there.
He gently smiles.
Dec 2012 · 983
Like An Event Horizon
BarelyABard Dec 2012
If time is relative then why are we moving at all?
I look around
and to me we all seem to be standing still...
Frozen in our civic and social duties.
Like watching a game show,
Or buying a frozen pizza.
...dressing up to go to church.

We become frozen in these moments and they end up defining who we are instead of the other way around.

Maybe the world is in an event horizon and I am stuck outside watching everyone seem to move in no direction at all.
Yet I see myself as well.
Sitting completely still and becoming a mannequin...

I would say that we are moving towards a black hole,
******* the light and life out of us,
but that would be foolish.

Because we are the black hole.
We steal the life and desire.
Hopes and dreams
from ourselves and throw our souls away for a paycheck and death certificate.

If I could find the warehouse of man and stumble upon the assembly line, I would shoot the foreman and break the machine.

Then

I

would

burn

that

building

to

the






ground...
Dec 2012 · 497
I Want To
BarelyABard Dec 2012
I want to fight and read and drink and ****.

I want to stand once again on the beach just far out enough to where there is nothing in my sight but the sea.

I want to fall so far that I don't think I can ever stand up again.
And then I want to laugh, stand my *** up, and climb out.

I want to write and breathe and laugh and die.

But most of all,

I want to feel alive.




God ******.
BarelyABard Dec 2012
A Fool’s a gutter trap of drink,
Where wenches and songs a flowin’!
For none can even stop and think,
With “Hey **’s” and music a blowin’!
A Fight, a brawl! A ****** nose!
Men knocking their heads to the ground!
Then laughter and shouts, oh so it goes!
Brotherhood and joy all around!

Oh men, we are so foolishly wrought!
A cry, a laugh, a smash, a groan, a grin!
Why the hell would I get on my knees and pray
When my heart longs for me to proudly stand in sin?!

We smashed the door and jumped the fence,
Sweet Jesus! The wind it was cold.
A snicker, a snip, nevermore were we tense!
The drink it was taking its hold.
We grabbed our tools and made our mark
We will never try to resist!
Why should I strain to contain my bark?!
This ******* world will know I exist!

Oh men, we are so foolishly wrought!
A cry
A laugh
A smash
A groan
A grin!
Why the hell would we get on our knees and pray
When my heart longs for me to proudly stand in sin!
Dec 2012 · 737
He said..?
BarelyABard Dec 2012
He said, "I want to fly in the sky."
His father said, "Just not too high."

He said, "I want to go outside and play"
The teacher said, "When your math test gets at least an A."

He said, "I think this world is more than we know."
The preacher said, "The bible is the only truth to be told."

He must have said a lot before...


...but I don't hear him anymore
Dec 2012 · 1.2k
I Am You
BarelyABard Dec 2012
I am you.
I am your shadow.
You are mine.
A stone unearthed in this frozen ground
Covered in snow.
Gazing at the flower growing up, surrounded
By life
And sunlight abundantly.
The stone whimpers in the cold.
Dancing figures in the twilight of mere existence.
Twirling in a haze of endless color and ceaseless charisma.
Stillness in the night.
The biting flogging of time and circumstance
Detached
From all inside and without.
Being comatose inside a tomb made of ice and desire.
Waiting,
Watching,
Weeping.
The rock, he twitches in the uncomfortable onslaught.
The flower loses a petal. In the fullness of life
She
Lowers her head in
Invisible agony. Torn by the choices
Made without reason.
Loneliness.
Time stands still.
The eyes of many are unaccustomed
To
The eyes of the few and the broken.
The grins of the ignorant shine like
Stars.
Glistening in the proverbial
Conundrum.
The rock and the flower split open
After, eternity follows.
The figures, mere candlelight,
Embrace and kiss.
Together.
Forever.
Nevermore hesitant to the desires which
Overwhelm and
Breathe purpose.
Two flames become one.
Meaning uncovered.
Intertwined lovers.
Breathing in shudders.
Blind to all others.
I am you.
BarelyABard Dec 2012
Apathy is not the tree

in which to build a strong levy

to keep you dry and keep you free

from treacherous and clever seas.



Understanding that which was can save us all from that which is,

and that which is, is nothing more than that which was.



Mere reality, relentless poverty, destructive novelty, laughable atrocity.

Admitted scarcity, lovely society, gentle frailty, and caring propriety.



Understanding all that we are is all that we choose.

All that we choose is all that we see.

All that we see is all that can be.

All that can be is remaining free.



Skeletons can hang in places without leaving fainter traces in all the billion windswept faces.

We are all the same and we are all different. We all are hidden in plain sight, bright as day, and black as night.



CUTTHEMOFF!

BURNITDOWN!THROWITOFF!BURYITDEEPWITHINTHEGROUND!

­

Open your eyes to something more than yourself. Heartache is felt everywhere and nowhere. A hand that ticks on a clock that doesn't exist. Freedom is everything. Freedom from harsh demons inside yourself. We are the nails that are driven in our skulls. We are the woe and we are the fear.

We are hell

We are heaven.

We are love.

We are hate.

We are everything and we are nothing.



We are the ships that ferry us into the abyss of eternity. We have our own passage ways and our own light that guides us.

We are our own and we are not afraid.
BarelyABard Dec 2012
Wounded fragments of shattered dreams stain the pavement and sidewalks while we all move in a pattern unknown and unseen.
Poised perfectly in the sky are the ends of strings that pull us along, and we follow, apathetic to the vile disgrace of not being in control.
The sun neither rises nor falls, we circle around to have him stare at us with curious and diminished eyes.
The stars wink and shine like diamonds in a fog, long after their reign has ended and their souls have departed.

Half forgotten synapses and faded photographs are the pinpoint of realization in the half written tragedy and comedy of man.

Can we feel the shattered slice into our feet? Do we drink of the cup of color or our we drowning ourselves in a cesspool of grey?
Frayed and patched we are.
The wolf is ignorant while the sparrow is enlightened. They chase each other. Dream by dream, thought by thought, reaction by action, into the depths of our souls. Neither can triumph over the other and perhaps that is the design. Blueprints hidden carefully by an architect far beyond comprehension of morality and sustenance are the makings of an encore, a time for roses after the curtain falls.
For none can know the beauty and mystery behind the short circuit of synapse and the ceasing of beats.
Perception of dimensions beyond us our limited and jaded, causing lies disguised as truth. Fear of the mystery causes fear of us all. We are all that is here. We are the tourniquet and we are the axe.

Oh child of wonder… Oh traveler of distance. See us all.

We are two sides of a spinning coin. We are everything and we are nothing. Perhaps the strings will be cut. We will overcome the misfortune of breathing in that which is farthest from the truth. Be the crack in the pattern. Be the narrow path.

Be better than us.
Dec 2012 · 594
You Seemed The Same
BarelyABard Dec 2012
I saw you.
You seemed the same.
Your eyes seemed the same.
Your lips seemed the same.
Your smile seemed the same.
I touched you.
Your skin felt the same.
Your kiss felt the same.
Your breath smelled the same.
I held you against me.
Your warmth seemed the same.
Your touch felt the same.
Your stroke felt the same.

You seemed...
the same...

I looked in her eyes,
and all they said was...

You are not the same...




I am not the same...
Nov 2012 · 932
Rhyme
BarelyABard Nov 2012
Rhyming can be important when you want to write a line.
Keeping form and texture with specific poetic time.
Make sure to count the syllables and make sure they all fit...
Then you can astound the world with a sharp and rapier wit!
If you think you cannot make a rhyme, fear not! Look and see!
Potato potato potato potato potato potato ***.

:D
Nov 2012 · 519
Just Not Here
BarelyABard Nov 2012
I close my eyes and you're here.
I open them and you're still there.

...somewhere...

...just not here...
Nov 2012 · 554
Meditative Visions
BarelyABard Nov 2012
I opened my eyes and I was falling from the sky with the ocean beneath me.
I heard not a sound except the faintest whisper of the wind.
The ocean sparkled, billions of lights flickering in the distance.
I fell faster and faster, and yet the vast violet and blue never drew closer.
In fact, it seemed to grow further from me. I spread my arms and closed my eyes.
Trees in bloom erupted from my fingertips and eternally grew.
I opened my eyes to find myself no longer falling but standing in a forest at twilight,
staring up into the stars as they shimmered and flickered in the sky,
speaking words I would never hear.
I reach down and pluck a single blade of grass as the earth starts to shake.
I close my eyes.
Nov 2012 · 983
Cynical-lacinyC
BarelyABard Nov 2012
The universe is nothing more than
Words
in line with one another
Forming
incoherent realities
People
are born into, constantly filling the cesspool
Between
the then, the here, and the now. The
Time
when the cord is cut in the beginning and the end.
Nov 2012 · 910
A Butterfly
BarelyABard Nov 2012
(This is for someone very dear to me who is very far away...)

The moon hangs above your head as well.
So lonely and cold,
where life cannot dwell.
You close your eyes and sigh in defeat.
Down a worn out street,
merely shuffling your feet.
If I drilled through the earth and came out in stride,
perhaps you'd be standing by my side.
Worlds apart and yet we feel
the same pain and hunger,
the snake biting our heel...
Mistrust and sadness
more like dwelling in madness
when we want to see a shining face
to burn the darkness from this place.
When I want to fall, I remember your smile.
When I feel alone, I remember your words.
I put my hand up to the wall and I see yours there
but I cannot touch you, or kiss your hair...
I hope those around stop and look.
I hope they notice you.
Those who have eyes with unharmed sight
could stare in wonder, so lovely, so bright...
And blind men who feel your words and listen
can even notice how you glisten...

Fools they are who don't stop to see.
The beautiful butterfly
that is staring at me...
Nov 2012 · 972
I Was Asleep
BarelyABard Nov 2012
I was asleep when the world started to end.
While the first skyscraper fell, I was under my covers dreaming of somewhere new.
I was asleep when the world started to end.
While the virus ran its course and charged like a legion of soldiers, I was pressed against my pillows watching shadows behind my eyes.
I was asleep when the world started to end.
While the fires broke out in the churches and the bombs went off in the hospitals, a puddle of drool was collecting on my blanket while I snoozed away.
I was asleep when the world started to end.
While the tidal waves hit the shoreline and washed away shopping malls and grocery stores, I was sprawled out across a bed, lightly snoring.
I was asleep when the world started to end.
While the asteroid entered the atmosphere and  the people of this world shouted in terror and confusion, I was talking in my sleep to anyone who cared to listen.
I woke up when the world was over.
Nov 2012 · 728
The Creed.
BarelyABard Nov 2012
Nothing is true.

Everything is permitted.


-Assassins Creed
Nov 2012 · 909
Time
BarelyABard Nov 2012
Where does forgotten time escape to? Does it seep away like heat after a heavy rain or does it hang around us all like a fog in the morning? The seconds fall and form wrinkles that stretch across us like scars from a time left behind, a feather that smelled of roses and rotting wood. The minutes feast on us like ravenous vultures waking from a slumber of eternal winter. Our reflections move in slow motion, unnerved and apathetic to the plight of its supposed doppelganger, while we, tangible we, circumnavigate the void of our thoughts and predetermined anarchy with a crazed sight of apprehension and fear. We come around to gaze upon our reflection still running in place, still chasing the forever mystery of right and wrong, love and hate, life and death. We shrug with pity and envy before moving along to circle the world of ourselves once more with the whips of time at our backs and the hounds of hell at our heels.
Nov 2012 · 654
Until We Shun...
BarelyABard Nov 2012
When we put forth a new idea

and others we abhor

we never even seem to miss

all that we had before.

Inside our mind, inside ourselves,

all other truths can cease

and only if we destroy “I”

can other thoughts increase.

All I see destroy this world

comes from one iniquity

We’ll always be but blind children

until we shun our vanity.
Nov 2012 · 505
The Words
BarelyABard Nov 2012
Our words are bridges for Hell and Heaven to cross.
The world inside our head meets the world we think we know.
All the thoughts inside our mind get ready for the show.

The words we say
can break away,
lead us astray
away from day.
Or too the light
unblur our sight
and make awareness much more bright.

A pen becomes a sword and a keyboard just a tank.
A pencil is an arrow and your voice is more like God.

Silence

The words are hate.
The words are love.
The words give grey a violent shove.

The words are living,
build towards a goal.
The words are pieces of your soul.
Nov 2012 · 785
A Drowning Solipsist
BarelyABard Nov 2012
A drop of water in an evaporating vial of water are you, a piano key that lays untouched and piled with dust. I touch a stone and I feel it’s presence, but form altered and frayed.

If I close my eyes, does the world disappear or does it live in another realm completely? A phantom I might be, a shadow in something that never has existed in the first place. A hand on the dream of a clock, constantly being wound and turned.

Eternally ticking.

I see a million eyes, we look at each other for a moment but only a moment. We see what we want, and if we don’t, we try to change the world to better our view of it. Our view is but a shallow thought. The loose ends of our subconscious, reaching, trying to branch out into a dream-like state.

I am never sure whether I truly wake up when my eyes open or close.

Gaunt faces are the same as lively ones. Smiles are the same as frowns. The ghosts tap their feet in rhythm to a slow beat. They dance into circles while the radio tells them what to do, what to say, how to feel. Projections on the side of the cave resonate in them and they follow. I follow…

I dance with them and I know that the dance will obliterate everything that might be real. I tap my feet.

Tomorrow was yesterday and today never happened. I am the man in the background of your thoughts, holding the mirror above his head. I am a thought, the mediocre absence of everything that we should have been. Close your eyes and you will see the void, you will see yourself. You exist to feel the void with half spoken words and broken promises.

A drop of water.
BarelyABard Nov 2012
I write this for you.

For every single one of you.

For everything that has a heart

For everything that has the ability to see.

For anything that can feel the wind.

For anything that can notice life.

For everything that feels the suns warmth,

and the winter cold.

You are more and less than you first have believed.

Know this to be true and keep it close to you.

You are not a king and you are not a beggar.

You are everything and every living thing you see is

the same as you.

Treat them as such.
Nov 2012 · 691
The Atheist Enigma
BarelyABard Nov 2012
You say that God does not exist,
and a part of me believes you...
But how can you condemn their hate
when you spread it constantly too?
Nov 2012 · 646
Walking Out of You
BarelyABard Nov 2012
We live, childlike, adjusted to the dark.

What we see does not challenge us, so we,

completely naive and blissful in it,

dare not to try and challenge the darkness.

Thus we continuously meander,

stumbling with our hands along the wall,

to make our way to the end of the road.

We feel the cracks and gaps beneath our feet.

Our hands run along the tattered remains.

Our blindness is a constant affliction.

My blindness is a constant affliction.

Our hallways and roads, narrow and cold,

cannot completely cross into another.

Only can our fingertips briefly touch

as they run along the bars of another.

Fire and water are mere memories,

a thought within a mind of the darkness.

No cannon fire, nor a wrecking ball,

can ever break the brick above our heads,

and the damp walls we run our hands across

to have our eyes sear with beautiful pain

as the sunlight erupts into our souls

and our eyes strain to adjust to the truth.

All that can cause your bricks to tumble down

is to realize that you create it,

and you can burn with all in the sunlight

as the veil of right and wrong, pain and joy,

rage and sadness, anxiety and peace,

and all your closed mind had once thought you learned

crashes and burns brightly all around you,

and you walk out of you and into life.
Nov 2012 · 1.0k
The Void
BarelyABard Nov 2012
Every eye gazing through bars

can never catch the weeping stars.

For magic cannot bring new birth

when they can never reach the earth.

And so the eyes will always stare,

without meaning and without care.

But stars will never cease their fight

until the void is filled with light.
Nov 2012 · 485
We Are Soldiers
BarelyABard Nov 2012
The smoke, it never clears.
Dear, don't worry about a thing.
The bombs are going off when I walk to class
and the bodies are piling up when I clock out for lunch.
I watched the fire rage in the pulpit
but the pastor is still praying
even though he feels the heat.
And the president is hanging his head
when trust me, he knows the truth...
I can't help but cry
but I feel as if that is just to hide the laughter.
We want to fall in love but we love to fall in spite
so we dress in pretty clothes and check our texts and tweets.
Grab your packs and make sure you have enough ammo.
For love of god, cleaning your ******* weapon
because we are all soldiers in some kind of war.
Nov 2012 · 337
I Still Remember
BarelyABard Nov 2012
I wake up and you are not there.
Hopefully I am still asleep.
But then I realize you left me
And I don't blame you in the slightest.
BarelyABard Nov 2012
The drops fall and we are nothing but the
soft splash and shock of sound
left over in the ears of
kings and beggars
before another drop catches the
sense of the slowly falling.

A drop will roll down the window of a skyscraper
towering
above the hustle and bustle of
broken dreams
and new promises.

A drop sinks into the pit of filth and slumbers with the dogs feeding off scraps in the gutter.

A drop lands in the eye of the man with the axe.

It falls on the mother
grasping
the child.

Everything melts into the sky to fall once again.

A cycle of death and rebirth.

Drop on the window,
you hold no more power than the mutts.

I wish to land in the ocean and sink to the bottom where the cycle can never mind me.

Launch me into the heavens where the stars can stare in wonder at the confusing being entering their world.

Let me fall into a vial and float away oh lord...

Is my hand against the sun all they cannot take away from me?

My eyes burn and blind but still I stare into your eyes with loving fury and tenacious acceptance.

Ride on against the current, you will not win and I hope this makes you fight harder

my

lovers, my brothers, and my others.
Next page