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May 2016 · 616
Rewritten
David DeMille May 2016
My ambitions had gone the way of the jet stream
High up and far away from me

I eventually felt the need to retrieve my absent cause
Because what's lost can be found

The scent of what was still lingered
So like a hound I set out
Hot on the trail of runaway dreams

I traveled far and came face to face with a fact
What's is doesn't have to be
I had been trapped in my own false reality
I hadn't lost my ambition
It was hidden inbetween the lines of self loathing I wrote and read to myself over and over

What is lost can be found
What is doesn't have to be
And what is written can always be rewritten
Focus on what is to come.
May 2016 · 617
The running battle
David DeMille May 2016
I'm a human
man I can't believe
this weather
it's killing me
germs
germs
germs
when will they learn
my nose isn't a playground
they know, I know
I can't say no
it's a clogged kitchen sink
I can't tell if my **** stinks
tissue
tissue
tissue
military issue
sinus warfare
it's so unfair
May 2016 · 371
Unword
David DeMille May 2016
At the time the words seemed right
And might of been then
but now
somehow
they don't

Regret isn't something that binds me down
So once I open my mouth
And let the sounds out
They're on their own
A traveling ***
Jumping from train to train
But these jump from ear to ear
Whether or not you choose to hear

The letters I've thrown together were beautiful
Only in my head
And if words could ****
Maybe I've saved some lives
By holding them inside
A self sacrifice
Because they're eating me alive.
May 2016 · 599
Golden daze
David DeMille May 2016
Smash the maggots on the trashcan lid
Scrape the bark from the branch
And prepare for battle

Torn jeans
A stained t-shirt
And a face that can't show pain
All that is needed to ensure victory

A few quick swings
And soon you feel the sting
The tears start to build
As if you had almost been killed

Never before have your legs carried you this fast
And at last you're safe in your mothers arms

Some ice and a kiss makes it worth the pain
And as for the mothers wish
For you not to do it again
It will go ignored

In the next few years
She'll wish you still played with sticks.
My brother and I would have stick fights and they would always end poorly.  Our mother was always there to comfort us even though she had warned us of the dangers.  As I got older I got into much worse trouble and now as I'm even older I feel pain for the troubles I caused my mother.
May 2016 · 584
A nice place to eat
David DeMille May 2016
For me to dine with you
We'd have water not wine
Paper towels as napkins
But you only get one sheet
And this old pizza box for a plate

The food will be cold
And I can't give you dessert
Though I do have some pretzels
And chocolate syrup

All of this is not because it's what you deserve
It's just all I have to offer
But unlike other places
I'm open twenty-four seven
May 2016 · 492
Climbing the ladder
David DeMille May 2016
railroad tie crucifixions
death of the working man
pinned down hands
dry desert prayers
empty and vast

an idol on the rise
tv dreams and corporate schemes
a ****** crown of broken homes
marching through cities
a real new years parade

big business charts rise
as the sky starts to fall
young women want equality
young men are sick of playing pretend
where are the real guns
May 2016 · 397
Who needs 'em
David DeMille May 2016
Downtown is underground


My feet are killing me
And I still can't see
I lost my sight ten miles back
There was this symbol of pure innocence
I came too close and it turns out
Around here
Nothings real

I thought "maybe if I push myself"
I couldn't do it
I've never been good at being a ****
I'm too nice a guy
So I just sat there
On what seemed like a mound of broken glass

I started to feel around
So I could get back on the road
When I felt something crawling on the ground
It was my dead dog from when I was eight
I said "Hey boy." and started to pet him
Then it happened
I lost my hands, they fell off

I couldn't cry
I couldn't even scratch my head in a confused gesture
So I did the one thing I could do
Walk

I was thinking of my childhood
Or at least what I could remember
My memory seemed to be slipping away
I thought nothing of it, loss was the theme of the day

I ran into an old man
He was my grandfather, the one I never met
I tried to catch up, and asked him how he'd been
He pulled out my tongue
So I gave him a hug
What else was I going to do

I blew I kiss good-bye with my stub
And continued walking
At least I had my lips


Realization


I started to think about my failure to question anything that was taking place
Was it a dream
Was I slipped some illicit drug
I felt no pain
I was de-evolved

Maybe that was it
After coming to this conclusion
The narrator switches from past to present tense
And I can sense my hearing losing strength
Before I could hear the birds
Now it's just my heart beat

I know what’s next
I only have one left
And this means I'll never smell another rose

I'm just a brain
With some flesh and muscle
And a little bit of pride
I still haven't lost my mind


Back to the past*


That’s how it all went
Losing everything you neglect
So I guess
I respect everything
That I don't have

I'm still sitting in this dream world
It's a little bit of heaven
With a helping of hell
Maybe that's it
Maybe I died.
May 2016 · 318
Nine to five riot
David DeMille May 2016
shakin and bakin in limbo
now i'm down to my boxers
but please look away
i have but an ounce of dignity left
and that i need for my grave

you only get one peek through the revolving doors
and i need to look my best, sundays best
better than all the rest, but under this skin
who knows what's good enough
maybe a hat

i'm lucky like the fellow in front of me
the line was cut short two men back
The rest were hacked and sacked
dripping all the way to eternities kiln
cremated to fertilize the clouds in the sky

sadly all that's left of this mans tail is the awaking
and the stagnate unanswered question of life
now sitting up and stepping down
rubbing my windows of opportunity
heading north bright eyed and bushy tailed
May 2016 · 752
Oh what fun it is
David DeMille May 2016
Walking the tight rope over quick sand
An umbrella in my hand, a snake as the handle
Fear of life far exceeds fear of death
The time is now, now I must fall
But wouldn't you know it, there's a net
Like the cartoons I shred to pieces
blowing in the wind I land in the mud
Take me to your master the worms say
Ha ha ha, ask me again on Sunday and I'll take you to a circus
Not any old circus, one with crucifictions
and thorned crown wearing clowns
tripping over their big shoes
falling in the holy water and melting away.
Sunday is the day we all have fun under the big top.
May 2016 · 290
What's needed
David DeMille May 2016
More fortitude less attitude
If we'd just stay tuned
we wouldn't rely on mood.
Instead we change frequency constantly
until we shut it off and shut life out.
Too often we live inside ourselves
Forcing all else to whither and rot.

If there was ever a time to lay aggression to rest,
Let it be now.
If there has to be a place to save,
Let it be earth.

— The End —