Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
729 · 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.
728 · Mar 2017
A Dying Phoenix
BarelyABard Mar 2017
I've been living as a flame without oxygen, warmth and fury underneath the skin without a means to breathe.
Attached to that which gives me life,
or at least the illusion of it.
Fire needs fuel
A spark remains
This world is cruel.
Oh please explain
Why do I feel my spirit growing weaker every day?

The energy from within is not what it used to be,
and I am the only one to blame.
Relying on fleeting sustenance
while the true hunger
wears and tears
my cares and prayers
making me think I'm beyond repair.
I've been searching for nourishment in all the wrong places,
while my soul accepts defeat
and my embers all deplete.

Yet...
that voice has never silenced.
"It's not too late to change.
It's never too late to change.
Stop your life and rearrange,
the puzzle of existence that seems so concrete."


If my essence is fire,
then let it become
Unbound.
Untethered.
Expound.
Unweathered.
Give me strength to burn away the artificial reality I have created;
become a creature beyond reason.
**A dying phoenix on a path to be reborn.
726 · 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.
725 · 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...
724 · 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.
723 · Apr 2014
A Furious Plea
BarelyABard Apr 2014
Take a chance and die with me tonight
because tomorrow we will be reborn again.
This line popped into my head. Hmm.
719 · Sep 2014
Forgive Me
BarelyABard Sep 2014
You're the rarest of pieces,
          a limited edition of some
        beautiful puzzle.

Forgive me, my dear,

                   but I'm from a different puzzle...
                   Our pieces can touch,
but never truly fit...
719 · Nov 2013
A Drunken Text
BarelyABard Nov 2013
With all hope I will be alive by tomorrow afternoon,  if not, well... tell the folks back home I am worth more than a bank statement and a birth certificate.
BarelyABard Apr 2013
I looked in the mirror, then shook my head in shame.
I keep pointing broken fingers but I'm the one to blame.
I heard a story yesterday about a man who died.
They say he pulled his heart out through his chest and placed an note inside.

I guess I'm not too different dear because I never see
the man with notes inside his chest will always be
a
shackled
me.
715 · Feb 2013
Anyone out there?
BarelyABard Feb 2013
I am drunk and my mind is racing.

Anyone wish to talk tonight and spread a word?
BarelyABard Feb 2013
We are all strangers to ourselves.

Ghosts are more alive than dead and they haunt us in the shadows that we don't speak of at parties.



Don't worry though.

You're more powerful than they are.




...if you want to be.
709 · Jan 2013
Come Sit And Speak
BarelyABard Jan 2013
A comet fell last night

and I saw the universe inside a flower...

the light and darkness full of power...

then God came and said a few words.

and I was left shaking on the floor.
BarelyABard Mar 2017
Cheap whiskey and rock stars.
Violent people in dive bars.
"What has become of me?"

Nightfall brings my life to weirdness,
giving reason to be fearless.
"Which path should I take?"

I just shrug and say "Oh well."
while reading in the carousel.
"Let me tell you a story"

Daylight brings the falling rain.
I smile and nudge away the pain.
**"Rest your head and let it go"
704 · Nov 2012
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?
BarelyABard Feb 2015
Along the cracking pavement, there hopped;
with slight and steady ravenous hunger,
a darkened crow,
not normal in size.
Picking at the seeds, between the cracks, while catching my eye and not knowing why.

He made not a sound, beside his beak.
Striking at the rock with hopeful sight,
pecking and hopping from here to there
as I stared with contempt,
a hatred
for birds such as these who darken doors
like clouds over graves and lonely moors.
I followed this bird with watchful eyes
thoughts of the macabre behind my lids
a hateful disdain for what I judged.

I couldn't be sure what caused this hate
This heat in my blood for such a beast.
Perhaps the black in ruffled feather,
or ominous signs they tend to bring?
Perhaps I'd seen in forgotten dreams
Shadows such as these, feasting away
with eyes full of hell and gleaming flame
on corpses of children, scattering the steeets.

Or battles of old, with dying men,
these morbid creatures flying above,
gasping in fright with last weary breaths.
I searched for reason but merely found questions, still watching the bird with aging beak.

I tell you this tale, because just then,
While pondering on this ghastly fiend,
he stopped at his task and gazed at me.
I assumed he'd simply turn his head
a curious glance to say the least,
but his eyes, they gazed, straight into mine
a curious staring in their darkness,
puzzling my thoughts with so strange a bird...

Suddenly, without breaking the stare,
he closed the distance between us both
and hopped on my leg, landing so soft.
while never ending his silent gaze.
I couldn't move a single muscle,
shock in behavior I'd never seen.
It seemed as though time had ran its  course,
in perhaps the lifetime while we stared.
What seemed a dark demeanor from afar
appeared calm and peaceful on my knee, as if he'd heard my chiding thoughts.

The hatred in my mind started to fade
a useless ticket for which I'd paid.
If birds could smile, I'd swear he would
and nod his head in understanding.
Instead he merely opened his beak and dropped in my hand a tiny seed
then opened his wings and flew away.
vanishing silently through the trees.

I could not move and I could not speak
The fleeting shadow had made me weak.
I lifted my palm, this lasting gift.
A single seed, from a darkened crow
that taught me a lesson I needed to know.
702 · Nov 2015
Shadows and Glitches
BarelyABard Nov 2015
Those who understand have been consumed by noise.
We are crawling from the  shadow,
though seen as merely glitches.
An infection within components of a failing Great Machine;
a virus turning zeroes into laughter,
and ones into screams.
We are crawling from the shadow but becoming more than glitches,
a noise streaming from every speaker,
long after the screens have read
"Error, corrupted file."
BarelyABard Apr 2013
So I pose a a riddle to you fellow writers and readers. The correct answer will guarantee a surprise.

I am the answer and a question that keeps you up at night. If my existence is a reality then it is a mirror you stare into each day. I could be made of magic and I could be random neurons but either way Im made of you and walk around you like a ghost.


What am I?

-Joshua
BarelyABard Jul 2016
The good die young,
or so I'm told.
I can't help but agree.
If I whispered this in your ear,
would you mistake my words as a cry for help?
I promise you, It's not.
Let me tell you what I fear.

I don't want to grow old
and watch my body decay,
wave as the child within sails away.
Turn into another taxpayer
trimming the hedges of my perfect little transparent existence,
desperately searching
for the moment when I
gave up.

One day I will become the soil,
this I know,
but must I first become a rusting foundation;
the remnants of a castle long after wonder love and freedom have been stripped away?

If the flame of my anatomy has an inevitable destiny
of being smothered by the weight of torment and time,
than I'd rather my soul depart
while shining at its brightest,
so I can find my way through the darkest of mysteries and discover a place in the
loudest kingdom of silence.
BarelyABard Apr 2015
Temporal distortions.
3,2,1   1,2,3.
Subconscious contortions.
“Twinkle twinkle little hat,
Tell me on whose head you sat.”
They ask me my name and I want to answer, but they seem to be standing on their heads, and feet do not have ears from what I can tell.
There is a man in the corner aging backwards and an infant in an armchair reading what appears to be Dickens, while puffing on a pipe. He gives me a cold look and also asks me my name.
I start to reply, but he has already buried his head back in the book.

5, 4, 3, 2… 9.
Wait, that isn’t right.
9, 8, 7, 6, 5… 13.
******, that isn’t either.

Cardiovascular erosion.
“Come on then, take a deeeeeep breath. That’s it. Find your inner chi. You are on a splendid beach.”
Synaptic corrosion.
“Now the second law dictates that entropy will always increase, and entropy, as we all know, is the amount of Thetans we possess in our body.

15, 12, 104, 18…
****, what comes after 18?

The people standing on their heads have started singing Christmas songs.
But it is in the middle of Bruly. Christmas is not in Bruly. It is in Leptember. What silly creatures.
Distant phonetics.
If a tree falls in a forest, will it disturb Rip Van Winkle?
Ocular genetics.
Now I quoth Jesus when I say, “If one eyes does cause you to sin, pluck out the other one if it doesn’t want to join in on the fun.

I can no longer speak. My teeth have turned into book pages, dampened by saliva. The man again backwards is now merely a floating fetus in a womb with the infant tsking in disapproval while puffing on his pipe.
The people standing on their heads are singing the wrong words to Oh Holy Night and once more a voice asks me my name.
Suicidal contemplation vs societal insubornation! Who will conquer who..?
Through teethless gums I murmur,
“I have no name, I have no face. I am chaotic understanding made of madness in my veins.
Close your eyes and count to ten.
691 · Apr 2013
Late Night Musings With You
BarelyABard Apr 2013
We are architects of universes not yet created.
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.
688 · Nov 2012
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.
683 · Dec 2012
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 Jan 2014
Why are we so comfortable on your knees when we should be comfortable with ****** knuckles?
I will use the shadows against them.
No chain in hell can hold me and no amount of rain can drown me.
My lungs are full of ash but still you will find me when the fire is raging, running as fast as I can.
The abyss is what you make it, and I have made it a punching bag.
Use your whips and release the hounds,
but they will strike at air
and teeth cannot bite the heels of a ghost.
Keep pretending you are kings.
One day you will fall asleep in your beds made of all our dreams.
**but you won't wake up anymore...
676 · Dec 2012
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.
669 · Feb 2014
Whispers In Hell
BarelyABard Feb 2014
I am frozen in hell when I'd rather be melting.
The ice around my neck has gripped me tighter than the noose and the hatred for what I've done doesn't have a single use.
The wailing and the moaning of the children born in fire ring forever like a symphonic melody rising from the deep...
From the trenches in the deep...
I strain to speak but my words fall short and God has turned his face away but I feel his sadness as I decay.
Perhaps they'll learn from our mistakes and avoid the traps in which we fell,
with hope they'll choose a different path so they won't see a sight as me whispering for forgiveness here in hell.
BarelyABard Jul 2016
I have to fill my lungs with cigar smoke.
                                                                    
                                            There can't be a drop left in the bottle at my feet.

                                      I just want to be...
                                                          
                                                             okay.


Though, in time,
                   I know everything
                                           will be alright
                                                          and I will smile
                                                                            at the universe,


I still taste the good parts of you on my tongue.

                                   I still feel your venom coursing through my veins.


                                            ...and I want you out.


I need to flush my body
until no trace
of your
ghost
remains.
The hardest part of letting go of someone horrible,
is that you always had such hopes for them.
BarelyABard Jan 2016
I'm not trying to defy the light,
just struggling to grasp the chasms where it cannot shine.
I'm not attempting to quell the darkness,
just fighting to keep a candle awake while wandering through it.
659 · Jan 2013
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?
658 · Jan 2013
Why Does It Matter?
BarelyABard Jan 2013
Here us and old one from years ago. It is flawed but enjoy.



A young lad abroad, was searching for truth
for what happens whenever we die.

A priest told him this, a monk told him that.
which one was fact and which one was lie?

The young lad was perplexed and filled up with grief.
He continued to search and to learn.

But the more that he read and the more he was told,
the more fear built up that he'd burn.

The young lad fell to his knees on the side of the road
and begged to be shown what was real.

"There are so many answers, and all of them different!
Oh, how am I supposed to feel?!"

Just then an old man, with a smile on his face,
asked him what caused so much grief.

The young lad said, through torrential tears,
"Without answers I'll never be strong."

"Does heaven exist? Will I go to hell?
Will all that I know simply end?

There are so many roads, which one should I take?
Do you know the answer, my friend?"

The old man sighed and said through a grin,
"There's a question more grand than the latter."

He grabbed the young lad, and looked deep in his eyes.
"The question is why does that matter?"
656 · Nov 2012
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.
653 · Dec 2013
The Real Prize
BarelyABard Dec 2013
The man in the booth said, "Pick a hand and win a prize!"
It took me a while to realize that both hands were empty and the prize was learning not to trust those who promise lovely things.
You only get let down in the end.
646 · May 2014
Jumbled Pieces
BarelyABard May 2014
From the top of decayed buildings I look down on the mess I created.
The board beneath me is just another playing field,
replaced with an older one.
The roads that intertwine and the window panes that hide smiling faces are memories belonging in the shadows, away from me.
Far from me.
I want to replace them with something fresh.
A mannequin from another time; I don't want him to represent a dream I had for you.
A stairwell leading to hidden cafes; not a remembrance of a grinning you.

If my world is a jumbled puzzle of memories without purpose or clarity, then perhaps they can be traded with other pieces better suited to fit the world.
645 · Mar 2014
Where Sand Meets Grass.
BarelyABard Mar 2014
I lay my head to sleep
and ask the murmurs from the deep
that if I die before I wake,
I pray the world will learn to take
a look at what most think is gold
and what the foolish strive to hold...


With hope a soul can turn away
and drop the leash leading astray...
To those who need a helping hand, if you don't mind, I'll try to stand
and break the chain, shatter the glass,
just find me where the sand meets grass.
644 · Dec 2012
8MM
BarelyABard Dec 2012
8MM
When you dance with the devil, the devil don't change.

The devil changes you.



-8MM
640 · Dec 2012
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.
640 · Jun 2014
Let Me Steal You
BarelyABard Jun 2014
I want to be a thieving rogue who hunts behind curtains for treasured "gold".
I want to take
and grab
and ******;
a hooded figure no lawman can catch.
They'll search for me beyond the seas while I am just grinning in a tree ,
waiting for the alarm to give up the fight so I can vanish into the night.
But please, dear friend,  don't make the mistake and assume you know the treasure I crave,
for no diamonds are twinkling behind the eyes of the mischievous hunter,
this garish knave.
This thieving soul wants only to steal the hearts of those, chained to their woes, and all other torturous lingering foes.

So quickly I'll sneak and risk you away;
then show you, perhaps, a different view.
So tell me.
Will you
let me steal you?
640 · Aug 2014
The Wolfish Deity
BarelyABard Aug 2014
Your god is forged from wolves,  
dressed as men, with hungry eyes.
The day I watched them feast is when I turned my back on
god.

When a voice whispered in the emptiness, "Let there be light.",
an echo murmured back,
"Let there be darkness."
Eyes wide shut can't tell the difference.

I spray ashes from my lungs
left by cities which you've burned;
refuse your pious nature
and praise you never earned.

Somewhere deep in hiding,
the light will wait in patience,
while you drown the world in darkness
with the evil you created.
BarelyABard May 2014
The pillow acts out legends
and my eyelids sing sweet nothings.
The sandman dances slowly and the sunlight waits in patience.
I set adrift a bottled message in strange waters as I drift away.
"Send me wishes,
send me dreams,
send me jesters dressed as kings.
They'll find me soaring through
the night o'er moonlight highways on sleepy wings."
BarelyABard May 2013
I wrote this line and I want anyone to contribute. Add anything you want in a comment.

Let's write a poem.**

We wrote letters to men and women that never existed
and they replied long after our deaths.
They sent us flowers and wrote songs about us that always seemed to play at times when everyone listened together with the same ears.
633 · Jul 2016
Burning Our Bridges
BarelyABard Jul 2016
Burn a bridge between you and I,
if that's truly what you want.

But...
Let's hope,
for your sake,
I do not survive.

'Cause if I do,
I'll come back stronger.

I'll build it once more,
frame by frame,
for the sole purpose
of walking across,
to drag you to your knees.
in front of
me.


...before burning it back down myself...
BarelyABard Feb 2015
I was standing on a beach, behind my eyes. The water moved silently and in the distant horizon a setting sun forever loomed. An eternal dusk that glowed with violet and red, never ending. Behind me were stars and open blackness. Planets in the distance sparkled and beamed while in front of me, sand and an endless ocean. I sat and gazed around. Not a soul in sight and not a breath to be found by living creature. I breathed slowly and deeply. Counting the waves as they breached the shore.
I began to float. As if some invisible hand had gently picked me up from the sand and began to carry me away. Up and out from the waters and the violet into the arms of stars and light in the distance. My head began to swim and the mind began to speak. Soon the beach was out of sight and all to be seen were the endless eyes of stars, watching me drift through the eternal. Through their midst and into a world that seemed a dream. I looked in front of me to see an eye. Not the ones of stars, but an actual eye, gazing not into mine, but through them. Into the parts of me I couldn’t see.
The lights around me began to spin. Slowly at first, but faster and faster. Soon I found myself in a maelstrom of colors, a twister of sounds and images too fast to make sense of. While it turned left I turned right and I caught glimpses of people laughing through windows in my world, somehow in the swirling haze. They were smiling and greeting one another. Buying homes. Celebrating birthdays. Watching the trees through open windows. I felt my heart grip in sadness. A girl was dancing in a lit room. She turned her eyes towards me and smiled. She extended her hand. I reached out mine and try to grab her fingers. Her smiling face singing to me. Our fingers touched before I was lost in the swirl and I span faster and faster…. I closed my eyes and screamed in anger. Raising my fists in the fury and the horror while the twister held its sway and the eye was ever watching me.
I looked at it in rage and asked it why. Why must my world always touch the tip of theirs but never grasp. Never embrace. Never fit…  
Who am I? Why must I be this way? The eyes merely stared and slowly vanished.
I sunk through the haze and fell once more into darkness.
I felt my feet find solid surface and slowly light began to appear around me. I was standing in a desert. Surrounded by sand and a red sky above me. In the distance, I saw movement. Anxious for life. A soul to speak to, I ran towards it and found an interesting sight. A girl was dancing. She was facing away from me but from the back she seemed beautiful. Slowly moving to and fro in the sand. Beside her sat a serpent and a fire. The serpent was smoking a cigar and holding a drink, watching the girl dance and nodding his head. He looked at me and invited me over. I came and sat next to him. When I looked at the girl once more, I gasped.
From the back this woman seemed older and beautiful. From the front stood a ragged child, hungry and weary with her eyes closed, swaying to music I couldn’t hear. I looked at the snake and he grinned, raising his glass. I shook my head and backed away from him; disgust and the macabre across my face. He shrugged and turned back to the girl. I began to slowly sink into the sand until it swallowed me whole. I was now sitting in front of a tree. A white tree standing alone with nothing else in sight beyond the horizon. It was beautiful and lonely, aged and strong like the earth itself.
I watched as a girl ran up and stared in wonder at it. She picked a piece of fruit off and licked her lips in hunger. She went to take a bite; I tried to move and scream out no, but her teeth sank in and the tree turned to ash and fell away while the girl had her fill and disappeared. I hung my head and the white emanated from the tree blew out like a candle in a dark room and once more it was black. I walked about, through chaos. Through this world I do not understand.
I began to cry and I looked towards the heavens and found nothing but blackness. Through my tears, in the distance, a figure shimmered into existence and began to step towards me. I was in awe.
A woman was standing there before me. The universe in the form of a woman. Her skin was made of galaxies and I saw countless things being born and dying in her eyes. She walked up to me and stared. I, being just a boy and frail. Weakened by my own lack of understanding and brief seconds where I exist.
She reached out her hand and I look it, feeling every moment of time in her grasp. All of the pain we bear. All of the love we share. Every mothers touch and every lovers kiss. Every broken heart and every lonely sigh… I felt her light flow through my skin and her eyes kept gazing at me. She smiled softly and her lips made words I couldn’t hear but somehow I could understand. She pulled me closer and we embraced. The wonder in every second of existence flew through my nerves and out of my eyes like electricity and sunlight…
She pressed her cheek against mine and I closed my eyes and smiled against her skin.
She looked at me once more and kissed my cheek. A wind gust against my soul and a heartbeat within the darkness.
Then she was gone. And I was once again alone, but never alone. I closed my eyes and once more felt the cool air of the beach and the velvet waves against my feet.
I sat down and stared into the eternal dusk once more.


My eyes open and I am shaking and shivering.
The wonder of the universe speaking to me.
I meditate on occasion and this is something I saw the last time I meditated. Your guess is as good as mine on what it means.
624 · Jul 2016
I Guess You Needed More.
BarelyABard Jul 2016
I look inside your fragile head
and saw the terrors which you dread
I whispered, "You don't need your meds.
I'll hold your hand on paths we'll tread."

Unfortunately.
I guess it didn't matter what I said
when you just let him in your bed.

So now you'll be alone instead.
621 · Jun 2017
Toppling K(I)ngs
BarelyABard Jun 2017
I wish to topple wicked kings.
Rage and slice the hidden strings.
Watch the temples burn and fall,
lead revolts and breach the wall.
I have no wish to take control.
There is no "greater" noble goal.
I have no plans to own the land
I want no people to command.
The only thing my heart desires,
is truth unbound, unyielding fires.
To see the world without the veils,
as evil dies and good prevails.
The kings of man who lie and scheme
to spread their fear and vicious dream
will watch their statues disappear
entombed against a new frontier.
I wish to topple wicked kings
rage and slice the hidden strings.
I'd gaze upon an empty throne
if I could just defeat my own.
You can't make a difference in the world without controlling your own egocentric nature.
BarelyABard Jul 2016
I was walking through a dream.

I fell asleep and shoes not meant for me appeared.
I put them on and stepped out the door.
Men and women passed and smiled, greeting as if I were one of their own.
They ushered along and I followed.

We entered a home and they showed me new furniture
and kitchen appliances;
speaking in a language I did not understand.
I smiled and answered in words also unknown.
We ate and danced for hours,
looking through magazines of dinner parties and picket fences.

A woman, fair and beautiful, took my hand
and we walked in the garden.
We kissed under the moonlight and she whispered something soft,
which I feigned to understand.

We returned.
The men and women were smiling,
holding a cradle and a wedding gown.
She looked up at me with hopeful eyes,
and I lowered my head in sadness.
When my eyes found hers, they were wet with tears.

The men and women began to slowly fade
and she briefly grasped my hand,
pleadingly,
Before vanishing into the silence.
Two worlds departing,
which may hold hands,
but only for a moment.

I opened my eyes, with a heavy heart,
into the reality of me.
Waking from the dream, which can never be,
the tragic reality I see.
I am not sure which version I like more.
619 · Dec 2012
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...
BarelyABard Sep 2015
Someone is listening in the darkness.
Gravity cannot contain our voices and the stars embrace every scream,
the galaxies every song;
a millenia of music notes and battle cries.

Someone is watching in the darkness.
Curious eyes at such a strange celestial blue questioning itself,
earnestly gazing in every direction.

Someone is waiting in the darkness.
Patiently listening to our feet tread ground we were once afraid of
with hopeful eyes  moving forward from all we thought to know.
BarelyABard Apr 2014
Behind my eyes, I trace my fingers along your skin
like the longing touch of an artist with pen,
craving for the taste of perfection.

To see the stroke of passion on paper,
like the faintest moan within my ear...
The time to forget a troubled past.
A fleeting ecstasy to hopefully last,
enough to turn these dreams into sweat and drown the thoughts of remorse and regret.

Oh let me silence the demon's scream and hear only burning in our eyes.
We'll run away at close of day and rage like thunder in the skies.
605 · Jul 2017
Finding Worth
BarelyABard Jul 2017
There is salt within these bones,  
akin to carvings on a stone,
made by ancient men
who left a mark,
to lead lead their weary feet
back home.

I've dug among the dirt
and I've sailed along the seas,
searching for the answers asked by questions inside me.

The salt,
the sand,
the sunshine,
took my body for its own.
With memories of my travels,
I can know,  
at least,  
I'm not alone.

But perhaps,
in time,
instead of being tattooed by the Earth,
I can leave a lasting fable
of a boy who found his worth
BarelyABard Jul 2016
Paradise with no sun,
looking for it on the run.
Ain't no time to stop and look,
put another in the book,
put a new bait on the hook,
hoping for one that can cook.

******* reasons strong appeal,
telling me you're missin meals.
I dont wanna hear that stuff.
I dont wanna hear you bluff.
All these problems
I dont care,
long as i can see you there.
Droppin bombs for ****** up reasons,
guess its just that time of season.
Truth is you should know me better,
feelings changing like the weather
Truth is you should know ill stay.
Truth is please dont go away,
you dont know what id go through,
**** id prolly die for you, thick and thin better or worse, already been deemed my curse.
A friend of my wrote this and I just wanted to share it with all you.
Next page