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843 · Aug 2013
I Saw A Question
BarelyABard Aug 2013
The last time I noticed I was alone,
the jester yawned beside the throne.


Then wisdom drained in pouring rain, the kind that causes peculiar pain.
I closed my eyes and dreamed a dream
that gravity had changed its mind
and threw the ones who strive to fly into the freedom of the sky.

But...
those who chained themselves to gods,
some made of words and gold,
were fastened closely to the ground by pride and all they chose to hold.
Then all the thoughts and actions built around my shadow like a tomb,
began to sing a humble song, like voices from a patient womb.

So here I'll stand and wait in wonder as the voices still persist,
until the time will come when I can understand how to exist .
BarelyABard Jan 2013
If you close your eyes in a loud night the the entire universe is open to however you wish to interpret. Our perception of this fragment is a blueprint or a painting in progress of ourselves; whichever your prefer it to be.
I opened my eyes in the night and looked out across the barren trees. Winter always seems like a sad and lonely coma for nature when green rarely exists and grey is the king on a silent throne.
The trees have fingers though and you can see them reaching for the heavens when the leaves have fallen into nothing.  They reach towards the sky in longing and patience and the stars are easier to see. The fading light from the long dead in the sky stretch out across time and space to try and reach the momentarily dead hands of earth and hold on tight.
It was beautiful and the drums behind my eyes pounded in tune with the orchestra of strings on the wind.
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.
827 · Dec 2015
Expecto Patronum
BarelyABard Dec 2015
"I await a guardian."
Shrouded forms who wrench and weave the hidden things I can't percieve,
into twisted thoughts of rage and woe
which drag me through the flames below.
"I await a guardian."
Bony fingers who clench.
Macabre lips who **** to kiss.
Weapons of hunger, instruments of fear...
"I await a guardian."
Joy becomes a distant memory,
replaced with bells that clang and roar.
The light has passed the spectrum,
fading to a shade of emptiness.
Kneeling in the dirt with
hands across my face; demons mistlike in their flight embrace my sorrow,
their sweet delight.
"I await a guardian."
All I need, is hopelessly gone.
All I need is hope... gone.
All I need is hope.
All I need... hope.
I need hope.
...hope.
HOPE.
What brightness in brilliance through such confines of the black. Shadows cannot hide when you shine like the sun.
The brazen bells have silenced and the mist is all but clear, scattered in the lucent are abandoned tools of fear.
"I await a guardian?"
I have become the guardian.
815 · Dec 2012
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 Feb 2017
Before my birth, I had no name.
Cities born out of
straight lines and
mathematical perfection
became the law.
It taught me what it means to walk.
Child becomes man
and man becomes confused.
Confusion turns to fear
and the man becomes abused.

I asked myself.
The mountains don't grow in straight lines. The ocean follows no law.
The clouds do not need a guiding hand
The beasts do not fear tomorrow.
Why do I?

When I looked into the heavens with a solemn cry for truth.
I did not see an ancient god,
but came upon a laughing youth...

Playing hide and seek.
That is when I understood.

In the end, I'll have no name.
Just embers in an endless flame.
812 · Apr 2013
A Night In The Life
BarelyABard Apr 2013
The stars were whispering
and the fire was snickering.

Now here I am listening to nature just bickering.

I think I might whistle along.




Care to join?

-Joshua
799 · Jan 2017
An Honest Muse
BarelyABard Jan 2017
Etches in the ***** mirror, like ghost across the skies.
draw hopeful words in steam from all my weakened sighs
The morning brings bravery to meet the darkness with defiance
but night fills my heart with longing and the slightest stroke of violence.
The eyes in front of me,
reflections of what I want to be
aren't the eyes I actually see
the purest form of what is me.
Wrinkles pouring 'cross my face
meet the stretch marks of wasted space.
I check the clock.
My bank account.
The scale.
Numerical definitions of what I have and what I don't.
But I cannot check my happiness to see if I am overdue.
No check on Friday will fill my heart... which has been overdrawn.
How to measure the strength of soul, before the vault is all but gone...
The etches in the mirror say
"Tomorrow is another day." while advertisements of existence blur my vision.
They tell me this is life.
They tell me work your job. Pay your bills. Accept your place.
But I have slowly learned that I will never agree.  
What will I do when words run out and I am left with an empty wallet, an empty mind, an empty heart?
Let me body decay before my strength does.
Let the words stay etched in my mind.
Tomorrow is another day
793 · May 2019
Making Love To Darkness
BarelyABard May 2019
Seductive little lies
escape your lips
like lullabies.

Truth is but daydream
when I dance between
your thighs.

If morning comes,
I'll greet the sun
and wake
from toxic
ecstasy,
but until then
I'll say amen
and worship
every second
with a lustful
apathy.
789 · Apr 2013
And Yet I Know Why
BarelyABard Apr 2013
I write this with the knowledge that I may never see the sun again.
We are the only creatures on this planet who know they will die someday.

...and yet...

We still persist.
Day after day and night after night.
Working and slaving.
Fight after fight.

Sure.
Sometimes there are few of us who have the advantages in society and the benefits of wealth to make life worth living.
""I've been sky diving, rocky mountain climbing.
I hope you get the chance to live like you were dying."

How much do you have in your bank account?
I am cynical.
I know this.
You don't need to tell me that.

But sometimes there are people who, with all of this knowledge, press on and do it for the thrill of the battle.
Some live just because they want to survive.
Some live because they are scared of death.
Some live because they love the feeling of breathing.
Some live because the absence of it confuses them.

Why do I live?

Well.

That is an interesting question.
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.
787 · Apr 2013
God May Not Be There
BarelyABard Apr 2013
If you take a step into the water and sink towards the bottom, never fear.
God may not be there to pull you back up and the world may not  notice as water fills your nostrils.
The void wants your soul and no divine presence can be found.

But you have arms.
You have legs.

You can swim and climb your way back to the top.
Be your own savior.
BarelyABard Aug 2013
Open your eyes
and focus your ears.

Steel all your senses
and cancel your fears.

The sea is calling
so anchors away.

Shut out the darkness
and embrace the day.

The wind is whispering
throughout the blue,

so unfurl the sails
oh captain and crew...

Hoist the colors, all weakness is shed.
Now bring the horizon and quit
when you're dead.
783 · Jan 2013
He Vanished
BarelyABard Jan 2013
You told me that I would never be abandoned.

Tell that to the boy I left behind.

Because he never knew what friendship was until God appeared in the form of harsh words.

Now he doesn't know what to say.
782 · Feb 2013
I Had A Dream
BarelyABard Feb 2013
I was at my old church and I don't really remember seeing the faces of anyone from my past.
This building inside my head was filled with the voices of those who linger like gargoyles; stony and immovable.
The voices who told me I was a hypocrite and filled me with fear of going to hell.
The voices who never accepted my family and I because we were not wealthy and we weren't like them.
The building I now walked through though held no voice or figure from memory.
They were all new to my eyes and yet I got the same shiver as before.
It felt odd.

Perhaps the ghosts who haunt us never fully disappear, they just change forms.

I walked outside though and people I know from college and high school, various jobs and random places began to appear.
Those many I have seen who never really were my friends, they only pretended to be.
They all started talking and having a good time.
Then I turned around and walked away.
No one followed.
BarelyABard Aug 2014
Why the winds of change surround, that in that split pivotal moment, I succumb to my only weakness; the hell in your eyes.
A hell I found swimming there like fire shimmering against the void seemed to be a candle leading me through places never I have found myself before; a new pathway dimly lit in the darkness.

Let me prove I'm alive.
Hear my voice and gather your mind. I'll sing like a sparrow anyway. Illuminating smile through the daylight into the depths of the jade night sky, can you tell that I'm alive?
My candle flame may be faint, with sharp winds.
Huddle the light left, to regain your effervescence once more.
For me.
That light calling against the shadows like winged musical notes dancing through luminescent fog slowly brightens an otherwise crestfallen and ill favored forest;
a pathway leading towards something better than where we may have previously been.
A reverse entropy catching the darkness and casting it where our skin may be rid of it.

I call out a name and an echo murmers back my longing.


Still straining with such force. An implicating smirk.
Ain't that funny...
I know what you're thinking. I can hear through the whispers your spewing.
When you're gone, I'm afraid someone will take my place.
But I won't stop breathing,
and as far as you know, I'm still dreaming.
These dark trees are trembling and every leaf swaying through the lifeless glances you break. Take my hand, walk with me. Let me reminisce these memories of us.
Though memories fade like photographs motionless in the light,
a spectral imprint is left behind like the lips of a ghost visiting in the night.
The mark you leave is a map in my dreams that leads me to treasures that can barely seem
a treasure at all in its mysterious madness because I fight for happiness in the blissful sadness.
A sadness I breathe in the vanishing of you.

Of me or for me, cause it's not like it seems.
A facade so well disguised.
You'd think the life would fall from her captivating eyes. A humble remark, I've pondered a few. But this lashing of thoughts is tattered and sorted. I feel as if I'm falling through the cracks of this foundation. if we crumble, tell me please that you'll feel better.
Those intertwined fingertips are slipping through the gaps.
Though if your sadness tears you up. I'll stand by, listening.
Because your silence is as deafening to me as the heart strings being torn from its base. Thumping in and out time with this meaningless state. And if I ramble in this space. Remind me the reasons. Don't leave me stranded in this range.

*To abandon you would be to abandon myself, alone and forgotten on the side of the road while cars fly like stars past the loneliest bars where I sit drinking whiskey to drown thoughts of you.
A bittersweet truth that none can avoid,
who float through the hallways like phantoms in empty homes...
is that no matter if you touch my skin and kiss my lips,
alone shall I forever be
past a wall you can't breach with a legion of screams.
779 · Apr 2013
I Found A Room
BarelyABard Apr 2013
I walked inside a room one day
and found a seat inside.
The walls and floors were bare and cold
no place for ghosts to hide.
And here I sat for many years
with daylight pouring in.
But I never bothered to step outside
for fear of the devils grin.
But in that fear I lost myself
and feeling seemed to fade.
Here now I wanted something more
than cynicism left to trade.
The chair became a guillotine,
the room a prison cell.
I want to escape from feeling void,
a vacant shallow hell.
But the door, again it opened wide
and there a figure stood
smiling with the daylight gleam
and I finally understood.
I'll never fully leave the room I made
and the ghosts will always prey
but if I can let someone step inside
they can chase away the grey...


*...and you have done an amazing job so far my dusk...
774 · Nov 2012
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 Oct 2013
...and yet even now I look out my window and see something new.
I stepped off my doorstep and fell a couple thousand stories,
but here I am walking and talking like an actual human being.


Though, as usual, I am drunk and listening to tropical music. for some reason it calms me down, and right now I need it.
There are no faces or voices here I recognize.  I guess it is time to get used to it.

I know this isn't really a poem but I wanted to say something while I still can breathe.

Hopefully this will go until the...

dusk.
768 · Jan 2013
NowSmile?
BarelyABard Jan 2013
I am not alone
and neither are
you.
Feeling sad or angry?
Feeling lost.
This is for you.



(Tackles and hugs)

Now smile please

:D
BarelyABard Oct 2013
I will live forever because I do not exist.

I turned the metal into gold and bought the rights to the future.
The past is just a number on my account statement
and I can change whatever I please.

I do not own your today, but I will purchase your tomorrow
Don't worry, I will sell it back with a low interest rate.

It's all a joke.
You're too serious.


My goal is to write a manual on how to live and make you study until you ***** nonsense.
Wait,
scratch that.
I'll pay someone to do it for me.

You bore me.
I think I'll go for a walk.


You need that paycheck.
My history will tell you that.


...and I don't give a ****.





**I bled this out today and I am not sure what to make of it. Anyone care to help?
766 · Dec 2012
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.
761 · Sep 2017
Adventure
BarelyABard Sep 2017
Into the woods my path may go,
where flora whispers to shadow below
Lose your feet then you might see
my phantom in the willow tree.

Perhaps the mountains call my name
to catch a beast no storm can tame.
With every precipice I'd know
an answer hidden in the snow.

But every stream heads to the sea,
where depths are raging, wild and free.
Endless waves, a soul of blue,
the water sings for me and you.

The sky may be a road as well,
far beyond the gates of hell.
May clouds and starlight fill my eyes
until my "wandering" finally dies.

Paths to travel, roads to meet.
I feel the world beneath my feet.
The universe has opened wide,
for heart and mind to step inside.
760 · Feb 2014
Somewhere Unseen
BarelyABard Feb 2014
Music notes float softly one by one from the ceiling while I lay in bed dancing between universes.
Thoughts of sadness, thoughts of madness, creep up my spine like the knives of Brutus,
while joyous dreams and hopeful themes flow through my blood like angels unraveling blackened seams...

So in this state I lay in patience while the music rains softly down and emotion trickles all around but I'm not scared for somewhere in the shadows you are there...
759 · Mar 2013
Coals And Stars
BarelyABard Mar 2013
What holds more power,
the stars in the sky or the coals in a fire?
By all accounts, most stars in the sky have been dead longer than this planet has been alive.
We just see them in passing.
But the coals in this fire are still alive and powerful.

More can still come from this...
755 · Nov 2016
Healing Yourself
BarelyABard Nov 2016
I drink too much and love too fast.
This life of mine's not meant to last.
The world I seem to occupy
will never see me eye to eye,
when rules which bound our fragile lives
will leave us fractured,
in disguise.
But if I went a differently path,
and found some peace in all my wrath,
could I escape into a realm
where'd I'd be captain at the helm?
Rid my soul of all the fear
that there is only order here.

Do not follow what they say.
Don't just live from day to day
Fight away the "nine to five"
and find what makes you feel alive.
Be strange.
Be weird.
Go search for you.
Climb the peaks and sail the blue.
The high you'll feel is not unreal
just emptiness you wish to heal.
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.
743 · Jun 2013
Mirrors
BarelyABard Jun 2013
I would point a finger but all I see are mirrors.
Judgements and flaws all seem to point right back. The human flaw is that we don't notice the mirror we are always staring into. We think it is a window...

But who am I to point a finger anyway?
I guess it is just in our nature to punish the world around us on some days
and mend it on another.
I will never know why and I don't really want to.
Sure, insults and bullies made me who I am today.
But I can't blame a tornado for leveling a town, so I will keep my mouth shut and have a drop a shot of empathy to drown the apathy.
I have friends where I need them and more friends where I don't. I still feel alone at times, but there is no point in whining because we all do; ghosts making noise in the dark.

We're just trying to find something new but we look in the wrong places.
We need a real window.
742 · Dec 2012
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.
739 · Sep 2013
A View To Consider
BarelyABard Sep 2013
I can't perceive a single shadow that can call itself a man,
when all they see that's made of gold appears to me as grains of sand.
729 · Nov 2014
A Frozen Tornado
BarelyABard Nov 2014
I feel as if my face is always red,
windblasted by words formed like icy crystals in the mirror
permeating my bones and leaving me so weary that I can barely stand.

They don't let me fly.
I keep asking why.
They block out the sun
and I just want to run.

I am trying to keep my feet but twisters are discreetly forming in my mind and
I am kneeling in this frozen tornado watching life swirl around me out of focus by the speeding snow of my own insecurities; screams raging behind my eyes, watching those in homes sit by the fire, finding ways I have not yet discovered to block out the chill eating at our bones.

Those I reach through the swirling haze can grasp a freezing hand attached to a shivering man who falls and falls and falls again but always manages to fight the wind.
There is still fire within these frozen bones, it just hasn't found a way to melt the cold and grey.

As sure as stars blink when I close my eyes, the sun will chase stormclouds in frozen skies.
In this mental blizzard I catch my breath and hear echos murmuring in the darkness.

"Winter doesn't last forever dear child, and neither will this."
I am the coldest person I know towards myself, and I can't stand it
726 · Dec 2012
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
726 · Mar 2017
Promised Lands
BarelyABard Mar 2017
I'm don't think I'm a diamond,
but I'm certainly the rough.
The bits of me you chew on might be tender, might be tough.
My wants and needs are simple,
but I'm not a simple man,

If only you could step inside,
I'd show you hope and promised lands.

They won't be filled with milk and honey,
but maple syrup should do;
as I cook some love and pancakes,  
then I'll lay it out for you.
Lay with me in moonlight,
and I'll take your breath and moan.
Come morning we'll be laughing at the future times unknown.

My wants and needs are simple,
but I'm not a simple man.

I only want to show you warmth,
so discard fear and take my hand.
725 · Sep 2018
I will die, but what am I?
BarelyABard Sep 2018
I will die,
but what am I?

There are footprints in the dust
behind me,
for a breath of seconds,
the span of decades.
They fade to breeze,
like echoes of a nameless lullaby.

I gaze at my hands.
The veins shrivel,
muscles deteriorate,
bones crumble.
In the minute vastness,
I see a reflection,
distorted by mortal
destruction.

I push forward.
Daunting truths
reverberating,
like hymnals.
My steps will,
one day,
cease leaving marks and
become part of
the dirt.

In a space of unlimited
light and sound,
What am I?

“Your existence is a burgeoning leaf,
growing and breathing
to change with the passing of seasons
and one day…
Let go.
Carried by the wind
to destinations unknown."


In a sea of vibrations and
energy,
what am I?

"Moonlight in a shadowed forest.
Tenacious wind, unfurling sails.
A bird building nests
through a storm.
Impassioned tears, of a lost love.
The distorted reflection
staring back
at you.”


Through all the screams
of arrogance
and shame,
An ethereal voice
continues to
chant.
What are we,
in a land of eternity?

"You are more and less than egos know.
Countless footprints
are left to dust,
but each one in the same.
Every step
and grain of sand is
you."


What are we
in such a fragment of the
cosmos?
What are we,
in such fleeting of moments?

“I am everything.
You are everything.”


One day I will die
…but what am I?
BarelyABard Feb 2013
I only take orders from my commanding officer and the woman lying on top of me.
720 · Jun 2013
Making Noise In The Dark
BarelyABard Jun 2013
I am making noise in the dark but its hard to find out why.
These voices I hear are making words,
words made out of things they've heard.
Things they may have felt or seen
with eyes made out of stars and dreams.
The words they fly and all I hear
is music and pain.
Screams and cheers...

My voice is there of course and it rings the chaos bell,
but sometimes I cannot hear my words and that just means that all is well.

Perhaps this is just a ball floating around with volume turned on high.
Does the cosmic storm give a **** about our blue and cloudy sky?

It may or may not. I'll never know.

But if all I hear until I die are these voices,

...then I am okay with that.

I'll just keep making noise in the dark.
717 · Nov 2012
The Creed.
BarelyABard Nov 2012
Nothing is true.

Everything is permitted.


-Assassins Creed
714 · Apr 2018
Coziness Of Loneliness
BarelyABard Apr 2018
Leave me be,
enveloped and enraptured
by the poetry of silence.
A private island
in a sea of faces.
Wistful but aware,
between
elation and despair.

Please forgive my
love of solitude.

The people of this world,
too beautiful for words,
are better from a distance.
Their voices,
a far off fanfare.

I feel safer here,
beneath a shield of
tranquil secrecy;
keeping a heart slowly healing
from wounds of long ago.

I have no shame
to hide from pain.
Would you deny me solace,
nestled in a home
of loneliness?
713 · Oct 2013
The East And West Of Me
BarelyABard Oct 2013
The moon looks the same everywhere that I go... forever lovely and whiter than snow.

I stare in the sky and ask my questions
with a slightly
humble
voice,
but all that goes throughout my mind
is snatched up
by a different
choice.

The west of me wants only to see
the world in raging fearful fire.
While the east of me,
which craves the free,
wants only to calm the hostile desire.

With hope they'll break the selfish hand and work towards more than something grand...
706 · Dec 2012
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.
704 · Jan 2014
One Day You Will
BarelyABard Jan 2014
A boy was walking alone in the woods weeping softly when he sat down on the stump of a long dead tree between a vast field and a lonely lake. The boy sat and wept for a good while before his sounds attracted the attention of an old shaggy dog that happened to be chasing rabbits in the field. The dog trotted up to the boy and asked, “Why do cry in such a way child? What bothers you so?”

The child wiped away his tears and blew his nose before answering. “My father hates me! He yells at me for everything, even when I try to help him! He must wish that I was gone, so I just ran away.”

The dog sat down next to him and asked, “What happened to spur your decision to run away today? What did he yell at you for?”

The boy seemed to remember the incident freshly and became angry once more before puffing his chest and ranting, “It is very cold this winter and our house must stay heated constantly, so my father is always cutting wood. I do not like being so small and I want to become big and strong so I asked my father if I could go to the log pile and split some wood for the fire. My father told me no and to stay away from the wood pile. But I do not like that he is constantly telling me what I cannot do! I wanted to help, so when he wasn’t looking, I went to the pile and I started to split a log. My father came out and screamed at me to get back inside right away. I ran back and received a lashing and he yelled at me once more and told me that I must listen to what he says. I began to cry and I yelled at him before I ran away and kept running. I do not mean to return.”

The boy finished talking and began to cry once more. The dog quietly stared at him and let him regain his composure before speaking.

“Child, you must understand that even though your father may yell at you and may punish you, this does not mean he loves you any less.”

The boy interrupted and shouted, “He does not love me, and he wishes I was gone! If he loved me, he would not treat me so!”

The dog immediately jumped on the boy and licked his face.

“Child there are things you do not yet understand and even though your father may tell you certain things that you disagree with, there is always a reason behind his words. He asked you not to split the wood and you disobeyed. For this reason he punished you. This does not mean he wants you to leave, this means he wants you to follow his words. When you are older, you will understand.”

The child grumbled and said, “I would not yell at someone like that. I would let them do whatever they want.”

The dog smiled and licked the boys face once more. “One day you will understand. Go back home child. You are beginning to get cold and darkness is coming soon. Your father loves you and if you do not return soon, he will be up all night searching for you.”

The dog turned around and headed back to the field. He stopped for a moment and turned around once more and looked at the red faced child once more.

“Remember this; there is always reason and truth when there is love and kindness within the heart.”

With those last words, the dog barked once and vanished into the field.

The boy sat on the stump for only a little while more, still brewing on his bitterness and the words of the dog playing behind his anger, before he stood up and slowly trudged home.

The boy eventually made it home when the sun was beginning to hang low in the sky. He still had anger in his heart and meant to confront his father once more and demand better treatment. The boy looked over at the wood pile and immediately froze in his tracks. His father was standing over the pile with the bodies of three dead rattlesnakes hanging over his axe. The father looked up his son. The eyes of the child filled with tears before running to his father and embracing him while the old shaggy dog playfully chased rabbits in the field.
BarelyABard Apr 2013
I imagine a world constantly where people were unable to talk. I think this would sometimes be a better place.
So much anger and hatred would eventually fade into nothing if we would just shut the hell up.
Maybe we would just find another way to spread it though.
Humans have a knock for destroying the things they love most and the most beautiful things I have ever seen have just left me speechless.
702 · Apr 2014
A Planted Seed
BarelyABard Apr 2014
I was falling.
I knew that somehow my feet had tumbled over some sort of cliff but could not recognize the scenery nor how or when I had reached this peculiar predicament.
Along with the always present weightlessness of falling through the air, there bubbled within me another feeling; one I did not expect.
Apathy.
The blissful faux virtue of anhedonia that coursed through my veins like a venom; pumping with my slow heartbeat....
I fell in slow motion, giving time to muse on such things while the skies around me changed drastically from clear to cloudy, from wistful clouds to a menacing overhead growling.
I closed my eyes and smiled.
In the back of my eyes though appeared a hooded figured shrouded in black with only a slight sneer appearing through the visage. This figured caused the blissful venom to tighten and turn sharply into a fear that made me unable to breathe.
I screamed as I started falling faster and mouthed words that couldn't be understood.
Tears poured and fell upward like rain from a tormented ghost.
Just before the ground embraced me and swallowed everything I ever was or ever would be, time stopped and there was silence.
I opened my eyes and to my surprise, the blurry sight of two figures appeared. One emmitted a faint glow with a softness about him; a calming aura...
while the other gave me the feeling of power and rage; a darkness about him like a creature bearing teeth against the night.
In unison they whispered five words.
The blurriness faded and I gasped. They were both distorted caricatures of me.
In the blink of an eyes, I was yanked upward with a speed so fierce that perhaps my body would not be able to handle it. Through the stormy and the calming skies...

I woke up out of breath to the sound of an alarm clock screaming beside my bed.
I blinked a few times and sighed, recovering my breath...

"Don't give up on me...", I whispered.
699 · Feb 2013
What I Want
BarelyABard Feb 2013
I do not want to speak of death
or time's unyielding sting.

I do not want a wasted breath
on such a pointless thing.

Right now I see no greater sin
than making passion dead.



So let me breathe your fragrant skin...
Come, crawl inside my bed.
698 · Apr 2013
I Know How You Feel
BarelyABard Apr 2013
I know how you feel.

Sometimes you wake up in the morning and you feel depressed but you really can't figure out why.
It feels like it may be one thing but the moment you fix it the feeling returns.
It is like you are running in circles trying to get away from something you can't see.
After a while it gets old and you just want to go to sleep.

Maybe you are picked on at work or at school.
Maybe you don't have friends and you wonder if something is wrong with you.
Maybe you just want the world to see you as something more than a tool to use.

I know how you feel.

And since I do, trust me when I say this.






You will be alright.




Everything will be alright.


I promise.



-Joshua
696 · Apr 2013
What's Behind Me
BarelyABard Apr 2013
There is a shore I stand on every day
and what's behind me?
Who can say.
A city of lights?
Music and gold?
A magnificent sight you must behold...
Or perhaps a forest of enchanted trees
that tell us riddles in whispered breeze.

But maybe behind me nothing exists
just branded coils that always persist...
To chain us to the past and leave
nothing but ghosts we can perceive.

I only see in front of me though, a sky of blue and mirrored below.
Whats behind me, none can say,
but I'll find out sailing back someday.
696 · Mar 2017
Choose Your Fate
BarelyABard Mar 2017
It's our choice to gaze into the crushing weight of hell and howl the word
"No."
It is not our job.
Not our duty.
Of this we are not required.
With ease can we close our eyes and allow despair and time to rot our bones, decay our souls;
gently allowing ourselves to become a
fractured stranger.

This is our choice,
no matter where the fingers may point.
Though death may take us
and pain may shape us,
by our own volition do we decide the internal outcry against malevolent depths.

Find the strength of a mountain fighting the year.
or silently hoard through bank vaults of fear.
Persevere or surrender yourself.
Against the weight.

Choose your fate.
694 · Mar 2017
SilentChaos
BarelyABard Mar 2017
I want a life of quiet wildness.
A soul roaming free
in a forest
made for me.
The steady
drop
drop
drop
of rain landing on each leaf.

Ive been running through the green in my mind,
while walking through the day to day.


A safe haven of feral peace where I listen to a loud world through the ears of a quiet spirit is what I require.


The world seems to be getting noisier,
but the untamed parts seem to be vanishing.


Like entropy,  
is the beautiful chaos seeping out of the world...


...or out of me?
692 · Sep 2014
Stuck Between Universes
BarelyABard Sep 2014
I wear my heart on my sleeve,
but that shirt is hanging in my closet gathering dust with
all the other things I have left behind.
The love notes,
kisses for autographs and picturesque photographs
are packed in a box. forgotten, but always in reach.

I am looking through one way glass at the world,
screaming at the top of my lungs,
but no one can hear me
and I try so hard to get their attention...
The attention of those who are never worth it.

One foot stands in the cool breeze of loneliness like the maudlin moonlight of a midnight freedom
while the other stands in hopeful cecity to feel the warmth of lips on my cheek
or a hand lightly clutching mine...

I am stuck between universes,
like the space between dreams and the waking world.
Here I live and here I watch.

...perhaps I'll run into someone, someday...
690 · Oct 2013
A Last Muse
BarelyABard Oct 2013
I tried to make a home inside my head where columns stood with pride.
The walls were made of gingerbread and all were free to come inside.
I couldn't fix the recipe and the tasted remained so bittersweet.
A cynical romantic soul is all I think I'll ever be...
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