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  Sep 2014 Nathan Squiers
imadeitallup
I don't expect you to understand
Why I recoil when
You extend your arms and hands
Why I brace for impact
Within the trajectory of your touch
It is warm,
and I am cold.
It is wind,
and I am stone.
IF YOU STEAL THIS POEM, OR ANY OTHER POEMS OF MINE. I WILL FIND YOU, AND I WILL COME AFTER YOU LEGALLY. I AM SOOO SICK OF SEEING THIS POEM ALL OVER THE INTERNET WITH SOMEONE ELSE'S NAME UNDER IT. I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW YOU CAN LIVE WITH YOURSELVES. STEALING OTHERS WORK AND CLAIMING IT AS YOUR OWN. BUT ALL OF THESE ARE COPYRIGHTED SONGS. SO YOU BETTER HOPE I DON'T CATCH YOU. P.S. THANKS TO ALL OF THE PEOPLE FINDING AND TELLING ME ABOUT THESE FAKES. I APPRECIATE THE LOYALTY. :)
Nathan Squiers Sep 2014
He wears his smile in his pocket.
Where no one else can see.
And since none have seen him happy
They’re convinced he’ll never be.

His laughter’s in a fist.
So tight, no one can hear.
With no joy in his voice at all,
They’re sure he’s filled with fear.

All they see is torment.
They don’t look for what he was.
All they see is torment.
Nobody ever does.
All they see is torment.
They’re not sure what the cause.
All they see is torment,
And all his other flaws.

The world’s so filled with judgment.
It won’t stop to find the good.
But when time is so ****** precious,
It’s a mystery why it should.

All they see is torment.
His soul’s as dark as night.
All they see is torment.
They can’t see his plight.
All they see is torment.
All ignore the fight.
All they see is torment.
He can never set things right.
Looking on the horizon of writing a sequel to the first novel in my Death Metal series, "Curtain Call," I figured I'd start sharing a few of the poems/lyrics (take your pick) that I'd created as songs that the fictional, mostly non-human heavy metal band performed. The songs were, surprisingly enough, the hardest part of writing "Curtain Call" (which only took me 8 weeks to write ~ 2 of which represented the songs alone). In 2013, the novel was the only to win TWO separate awards in an annual book blog competition, earning both Best Paranormal Thriller Novel as well as Best Occult Novel of that year.

Here's hoping the sequel does half as well  lol

Given the rising issue with bullying and abuse, I feel like this particular song/poem (though written a few years prior to the issue) is applicable all the same.
Nathan Squiers Aug 2014
Tangled in my own regret,
I can’t see through the vines.
I fight and tear and yet,
I’m far too entwined.

Tearing to see sunlight,
Though I’m already underground.
They strangle as they hold me tight,
And I cannot hear a sound.

Life’s a ******* ****
That refuses to be torn!
Flourishing from need
And choking all who’re born!

Trapping every creature!
Consuming every breath!
They drain everything that is pure
Leaving only death!

Life’s a ******* ****
In the garden of what’s pure.
Blindness is our one true creed.
And death’s the only cure!
Looking on the horizon of writing a sequel to the first novel in my Death Metal series, "Curtain Call," I figured I'd start sharing a few of the poems/lyrics (take your pick) that I'd created as songs that the fictional, mostly non-human heavy metal band performed. The songs were, surprisingly enough, the hardest part of writing "Curtain Call" (which only took me 8 weeks to write ~ 2 of which represented the songs alone). In 2013, the novel was the only to win TWO separate awards in an annual book blog competition, earning both Best Paranormal Thriller Novel as well as Best Occult Novel of that year.

Here's hoping the sequel does half as well  lol

Enjoy ^_^
Nathan Squiers Aug 2014
Fade to scene--pallet: blue and green--wide shot; mood: serene.
Establish view; a stock or few; pan right to view a distant two.
A hazy rim; we cut to *HIM
--so *clean and prim--just as we hear the hymn...
A tear rolls down his chin. The brightness dims; music shifts to grim.

Cue the screams; cut the scene.
We're back in the now and the mood is mean.

HE'S back in a view--pallet: black and blue--the shot askew.
The mood's muted; sounds of shooting. Cue dialog:
"Look what you did..."
Camera jerks; extreme closeup: a smirk; let the ANTAGONIST work.
The wire crew's here. HERO sheds a tear. Signal stuntman on the tier.

Orchestra on my mark...
Deliver line then cut to dark.

Light's back to reality. The view won't change, you see.
There's no crew or doubles. Just a wide sea of troubles.
No second shots; no calling "CUT"; it's all open-shut.
It's not like a filmmaker's lens; it's not just pretend.

Let me script this out what you're all about:
An overconfident lout, but backlit with doubt.
All part of a cast, direct you like I did the last.
I see that you're furious, but you're hardly fast.
Now I'll produce the fear as the shoot draws near--
I've got the schedule set; we're not finished here!--
You're calling "cut," but I'm just cutting you more,
And then I'll edit you out on the cutting room floor.

I appreciate that you feel you've come so far,
But never forget this is MY movie, and I'm the STAR!
Just a lovely little piece using filmmaking jargen as a metaphor of putting the hurt on somebody (prior to becoming an author I was studying to be a scriptwriter & director ~ though recent events are steering me back into scriptwriting once again).

Content and details are purely fictional.
As I stood above the others, looking down upon their plea,
I felt the lies that shook from me and cried out blasphemy.

The strength that holds inside of me is not amongst my own,
The dirtiness that’s filled with me can’t find itself a home.

As I lay before the altar side, a knowing smile within,
The punishment they gave to me was only the first therein.

As I step outside the ashes, to send my challenge out,
I feel the chaos rising in and know there is some doubt.

A loss, a gain, the angst, the pain.
They all remain the same.

For I was not the one they hailed,
To lay beside the king.

As death decays my jaded soul I’d healed before I thought,
The agony I felt that day was something they had brought.

A gift they said, to scar and curse,
The words I made were in reverse.

Irreversible to those I know and those among I love
I realized then, what I must do and gave myself a shove.

For it was now my time to go,
To rise above it all.

And what I did could be so low,
So cursed and evil,
But I can see their wicked eyes,
And knew it was my call.
Nathan Squiers Aug 2014
They told me to not go silently to that good night,
That I should never give in without giving a fight,
But I've bathed in the beams of the silver moonlight.
And I'm here to tell you that I went with the night.

It's not out weakness, nor desperation nor fright,
And I'm not here to tell you that it's not worth a fight,
But there's much worse monsters that occupy light;
Ones with far more malice, and a far sharper bite.

It's all about heart; not what's wrong or what's right.
You're judged by your merit and by your insight.
We're led by our spirits; we're not led by our sight,
We--all of us--who have joined with the night.

So slip free of your anchors. Let your true self take flight.
Shed away all regrets--you're held down by contrite--
And bask in all that represents your delight.
I come not with demands, you'll choose what is right,
But I'll confess to you now: I went with the night.
I was challenged to do a rhyming piece with a solid A-A scheme all the way through.
Nailed it! :-p
Nathan Squiers Aug 2014
It's like a holy war
When the masses march upon me.
The whole scene leaves me sore--
A hole seen by those who soar--
And, broken and bloodied,
I grin up at them and ask for more.

It's like a holy war,
And its when those holy *******--
A horde, a mass, of masochistic masters--
Hone on me like a holy task, there's
No greater sight for my eyes to see.
When they're still so certain;
Certain that the unholy one is me.

Twasn't me that drew this curtain,
And I ain't the one that's hurtin',
When they make their deals with devils.
See, it isn't standing up to rebels
When your convictions tremble;
It's your morals that need sortin'.

In this war of a devils against devil,
It won't be the youngbloods left to revel.

Come at me with your holy war--
I've fought before and demanded more--
But you'll come to find that what's in store
Will be far greater than what you're aiming for.

I don't see why you can't admit it:
That you've become demons, just like I did.
Yes, there's a darkness within me,
But, as the villain you want to see,
I'm afraid that I just can't take credit.
When the greatest sin that I've committed,
Was shedding light on all that you all did.
Been a while since I busted out anything new, so I figured I'd hit the scene with a bang (hello again, HelloPoetry <3 ). I've been writing a lot lately, so a lot of the rhythm here is inspired by some of my favorite J-rock & Visual Kei bands (the music that makes up my writing playlist) as well as the lyrical flow of rap/hip-hop (a genre I've found myself increasingly drawn to lately for whatever reason (I never fight these things  lol).

As is the case a lot of the time, this is hardly illustrating JUST a personal struggle, but offering some support to so many others who face a similar struggle of their own. To those in such a situation, this poem is for you, and let me remind you that you not only have strength in numbers, but your own untapped strength, as well.

I find myself--either for my religious or moral/ethical views or any other reason that people see fit--often targeted by a person or persons who see fit to villainize me, and I find myself growing suspicious that the only reason for this is so they can feel like the heroes when they take me down.
Sadly for them, I've yet to fall, and I wish the same strength and track record to those out there facing the same situation.
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