Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Joseph Childress Apr 2014
By Joseph Childress

I remember when…
I remember, I remember
When I lost my mind….
There was so pleasant about your face
I let all my emotions go,
And gave you space….

When you were out there, without care
I was out of touch,
Not because I didn’t know enough Jaz,
I just knew too much.

But does it make me Crazy!!?!!
If not,
Deny it in front of the doctors
Who document the details
Of my insanity.
Granted that your vanity
Is understood
I forgot my understanding
Beauty is in the eyes of all
That behold you
How could I forget?
I forged the signature smile
You talk so often about
So you’d be happy for me
But how?
So selflessly you loved my selfishness needs….

Now We,
Becomes a testament of what
Once was
Once upon a time
A princess met
A soon to be king
Whose arrogant rant’s
Arose at the time he forgot
His ring

Now you and I
Are forced
To separate like divorce
Devoid
Of the love
That once filled that empty void

Whose to know
Of what’s to come?
Maybe
In may we can spring from these
Cold feelings
And blossom like a Jasmine
And turn has-beens
Into have-nows
And complete the vows
We started under covers
Like our first words
We said to each other

Diamonds are forever
But
If I die with out your three letters
Let this
Letter
Be the last
“I do” is all I ever want from you
And all I have in return
Is “I do too.”
Joseph Childress Apr 2014
Preparations
For Love and Destruction
Volatile environments
Whose inhabitants
Distract inhibitions
By enacting emotional exhibitions
Fueled by liquid fire
.Injection.
Fluid spirits
Energize the soul
Chemically reacting to stress
Freeing the hostages
Housed inside the hostile hospice
Of hearts
.Ejection.
Nature’s neutrality
Doesn’t do much
For this current
Wave
Of Lust and Frustration
So,
Lo and Behold
The solo soul below
Who bellows
In the belly of beasts
Like growls
That grows into speech
As I transform from
Animal to Anomaly
Asking for the one thing
That will keep me
From the answer
.Rejection.
Joseph Childress Mar 2014
Catchy clichés
Can calm nerves if spoken
At the right moment
Appreciative tokens
Of atonement
Can amend this friendship
For the moment
Leave me left
And I’ll be found
Righteous
In my attempts at
Tempering your aggression

Either way I win.

Marriage & Children
Divorce & Retirement
The best things
Come to an end
Which leaves room
For a cycle to begin
Recycling my romantic
Ideals
Of true love

Either way I win.

Deception
Misery & Mystery
Inceptions
Of mystic prophets
Who provide
Love potions with ironic twists
Like the iconic wits
Of philosophists
Who admit to know nothing
This concoction
Can con-artist-ically convince
Common sense
To become rare
Drunken affection
With lips that tell lies
As often as the truth
It tries to depict

Either way I win.
Joseph Childress Mar 2014
**** it,
Damage.
The small hole that lies
In all hearts
Is a larger part
Of my whole,
My arteries hold no
Holy blood, but
Ole faithful spurts
More life then ancient articles.
Art is Gold.
Not folded in papers.
Though, these zig-zags have
Had their fair share
Of wear and tear on my soul
My core
Is iron ore
I wore, and tore
The fabric of space
For us
To meet face to face
Fate
Has nothing to do with it
I only ate
The apple
To show the faults
Within me
With sin
I have nothing
Left
But what heaven sent
Right
Next to me.
Where window’s to a soul
Hold enough water
To feel a widows pain.
I see through you
Like sheen stockings
Worn
To hide
What you’re trying to show
On purpose
You’re perping
Like the drug
That deceives me
Into believing that I need it
Needless to say
I’ll take needles
Of your love to vein,
In vane of God’s name
As I search
For the rib
I lost in his name
Competing with
My empty heart
For completeness.
Joseph Childress Mar 2014
F+
Farce!
False!
Fantasy maybe. Even still,
It’s far from fact.
Fiction!
I've seen more accurate depictions
Of Love
In abstract pictures.
At least it’s fierce colors
Show so form of passion
Fashion!
Artistic? It can be
But this is trendy
It'll fade as a
Fad!
True art is timeless
Truth? It can be
But this is candy
Not fruit
This is pop
Not soul
Technically it’s music
Because of it’s movement
But this needed no muse
Only tech
No chords
Piano or vocal
Only vocoder!
Inhumane, alien maybe.
But even the Vulcan
Shows some form of fire  
Folktale!
Fog!
The misleading smoke
Shows no water
In the vicinity
Only industry
The only esteem
In this engine
Is steam
Gas.
The closest thing
To nothing
Fodder!
Deflowered. Devoured
By self-expression
Selfish innovators imitating life
Forgetting to live it.
****!
Joseph Childress Mar 2014
By Joseph Childress

Humans For Sale
Our new product
Was produced
By the finest scientist
Rigorous research
Developed over ages
With pages upon pages
On the way's of Man
Which have made it
To this manual
Our manuscript
Comes with a planner
To document
The detailed descriptions
Of the
.Human Revolution.
They carry out
In your manner
For we've finally discovered
How to turn off it's soul!

Our standard package
Is for any industry
We've oiled all it's joints
For maximum mobility
Whenever their overworking
Strings stretch
From their shoulders
To allow shrugs
At your command
So it's hands
Can work for hours
While following your demands
I know you puppeteers
Take offense
To puppet's tears
Report any malfunctions
If the manufactured
Model shows emotion
And we'll threaten
Them with the fire
That they use to own

The titanium's knit tight
Taught enough
For the toughness of man
The silver hooks
Slide through slits
Of flesh
To make value
Of the empty vessel
The heart
Serves as battery
Connecting
Copper veins
To gain momentum
In it's electric brain

Our premium package
Allows wireless extensions
Of control...
Behold!
The new televised eyes
Provide hallucinations
In lucrative amounts
Which will prove
To be illustrious
In it's illustrated sight
The special effect
On it's vision
Is our last step
In
.Human Revision.

Puppeteers!!!
Our market
Is uncontrolled
The loopholes show
The puppets inability
To function
The component of soul
As owner
Be satisfied
Of the power
They don't know
Joseph Childress Mar 2014
By Joseph Childress

This isn't coincidence
These predicaments
Don't occur
From compromise
I promise
This instance
Was made from insistence
Fate
Need not play a role
Why chase you
When I can stalk truth
And take soul a step further
I sing blues
Off cue
And play keyboards
Off key
To mimmick the mockery
Of clowns that show grief
Or clones that make art to show originality
The irony
Can leave wrinkles
In the corner of a smile
But for me
This comedy
Isn't worth my while
If this tragedy
is but a wrinkle
On the loose leaves of the wild
I don't aim
To tame these emotions
I only aim
For your heart
With arrow's pen-pointed
I always draw my words
The most artistic of weapons
If you listen
This suicide will be assisted
Either save face
Or erase your pencil thin smile
Although,
We'll fall from grace
At least
We're falling with style.
Next page