Ace Malarky

Ace Malarky Sep 2014

Here's to Tomorrow: Panic, Worry, Anxiety

i wish it could have done it yesterday or last week even but theres no looking back. tomorrow isnt far away or it could be because time is as relative as everything else in this world (whether it's small because there aren't even 200 countries in it, or if it's large because 196 is actually very many). either way although time is absolutely relative i dont feel as though i have a whole lot of it. i digress. i was saying that i wish i did everything yesterday and hadnt put it off until today. but because i did im getting this weird panicky undercurrent as i wade through the river of life. if i were to be honest when asked "how are you" id reply "good and scared" if i was feeling good and "not good and scared" if i wasnt. every night as i prepare to waste the next 8 hours (optimally) of my life i count to myself the number of things i should have done that day that instead i put off til the next. its never a small number (Unless you think about it differently. Numbers are relative, after all). the worry i wake up with drives me like a nail through the day and the anxiety that remains drives me like a nail through the night (sleep is optional). when they are combined i write. i write without meter grammar spelling (sometimes) meaning (sometimes) or purpose (always). its a huge waste of time but i do it anyway

Here's to Tomorrow series:

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/737310/heres-to-tomorrow-my-thousand-years-of-day/

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/737321/heres-to-tomorrow-a-good-ly/

Ace Malarky Aug 2014

My Quiet

The Quiet perches
My ***** burden true
Eyelids drooping
and then the quiet grew

It, from golden bowl
To quench its thirst
Drinks my soul

Now my legs are set in lead
And I lie welded to my bed

I should do something

--Ace

#depression #quiet

Ace Malarky Aug 2014

Shores pt. 1: Ezra's and the Wizard's Quest

Ezra clamber’d o’er the crest
to seek the way which he knew best
which, passing by the yellow tares
and turning at a grove of pears
set him at ancient fungal oak
where upon a branch he hung his cloak

For on some odd-nights within his mare
declared a warlock and his maiden fair:

“Spindled by the peary copse
after fields of shammy crops
stands that vile toady oak
shading torpid mystic folk

“Percieveth thee the one with warty beak?
‘Tis to him whom you must speak.
Rouse him from his slumber, Ezra,
pray of him your task."

The wizard with the moley snout
reclining with a snoozy pout
snored upward from that moldy bark
and whispered “yonder peasant, hark!

“Ezra, deary, there’s a bane
The shepherds hold in some disdain
for sheps can’t herd bereft of sheep
and this bane ingests them in their sleep.
Do ******* hip your faithful blade
and into swampy depths do wade
so to provoke this shepherd's foe
and smite him lifeless head to toe.”

...to be continued

This is me trying to write an epic.
Well, should I keep it up? What do you think?

--Ace

Ace Malarky Aug 2014

a lamentation

breakers buffet stern
but I, a cabin boy,
cannot the rudder turn

in a battle all but lost
I sit as wounded cry
for I, a lowly page,
cannot my weapon try

I can only watch and pity me
and those I love
and pray for rescue
from above

and mercy

for I am powerless.

I just wish I could help

--Ace

Ace Malarky Jul 2014

Blessings

"Blessings from above
      upon me", whisper I
as golden hair tickles me awake
      (it smells like Summer).
Azure eyes sparkle in the sunshine
      (they look like Summer sky).

2. Pardon love, pardon lovers,
      pardon beauty, pure as dew,
pardon laughter, sweet as honey,
      pardon joy when love is true.

3. Bless the one who you adore
and let him or her bless you.

Written for y'all but mostly for my beautiful girlfriend :)

--Ace

Jul 2014

Meggghanq1

The school that killed poetry

So many misinterpreted metaphors
make me cringe
''are you trying to ruin poetry for everyone''
but I hide my damp eyes behind my fringe
because I mustn't argue and my teachers are never wrong
They sing without a meaning or lyric in their song
we are taught to write what they want to hear
not the truth we feel inside our hopes and fears

But i must turn the other cheek
to get my degree I need..when home I ponder, I weep
because it was the school that killed poetry
for many of my peers..
But all is not lost..wipe away those tears
Grab the pen that feels ethical
the paper that doesn't deceive, doesn't lie
and write a poem that you can feel
you'll get out of school alive

(You know who you are who started this haha!)..Don't get me wrong I love teachers in general..I plan on becoming an awesome one someday too :)

Jul 2014

Peter Cullen

Luna May And The Holy Ghost.

On St.Michael's layline,
a dozen miles from Dingles coast.
This was where young Luna May
was to meet the Holy Ghost.
High upon the rocks of Skellig,
awoken by the angry waves.
The ground beneath began crumble
opening the ancient graves.

The ocean calmed,
as angels fluttered,
danced and sang beside the sea.
Young Luna May just watched in wonder,
shedding tears of disbelief.
She checked her pulse and shook her head
cryed out loud "how can this be?".
Blessed herself before she fell,
gracefully onto one knee.
She looked up to the skies above,
eyes filled with fear
and filled with love.
The clouds gave way to brilliant light
and she could sense that God was near.

She asked "why have you chosen me,
what is it that I can do?"
This is when the Ghost appeared
forming from the morning dew.
It led her up the ancient steps
Clasped her hand,
yet she felt free.
Sat her down upon the grass
kissed her gently on the cheek.

As it did, her life went flashing,
like lightening bolts before her eyes,
thunder roared inside her soul,
as she slowly realized.
"Am I here because I've wondered?,
doubted all I felt within"
This is when the Ghost would speak,
telling her "doubt is no sin,
all you need, has always been".
"All you need, has always been".

Then suddenly..........
her eyes shot open,
jolting upright in her bed.
This is when she was to realize,
"I've spent too long living dead.........
Then with grace she was to realize,
"I've spent too long in my head."