On a spring day

You killed me

Now silent. .You happy! !

You can not rain
on my black parade.
Your words can't hurt me,
Are you playing a charade?

You are not in my mind
and I am not in yours.
Not understanding,
your word choice is poor.

Respect is but earned,
trust is simply kept,
honesty is but certain,
May you never forget.

We are just pawns
in the game of life.
Playing it solo
or living in strife.

So, I will take your words,
with a small grain of salt.
Taking it in,
it's not all your fault.

Does this poet
put down his pen?
Dark sadness grips tight,
tearing his skin.

Ripping his heart out,
buries his soul.
Feeling all tortured
and taking it all.

Looking about,
at all of the gloom.
Stirs up the ***,
sweeping his broom.

His mind is a mess,
seeking an answer.
Alone in the parlor,
with no private dancer.

His ink had dried up
and his pages were heavy.
One lasting poem,
come home, nice and steady.

I want to stop this pain.
I want to stop these demons.
I want to stop this insanity
I want to stop this suffering
I want to this to STOP ..................... PLEASE!!

At twenty one thirty ,
and far away,
she made up her mind
and couldn't stay.

Her pain was too much,
for her to bare
I tried to reach out,
but she didn't care.

At just seventeen,
she had been through hell,
Could not escape
her molested cell.

Nowhere to go,
seeing darkness around,
No escape for this girl,
only hell bound.

I begged her to stay,
she said go away,
Why do you care?
I bowed down to pray.

She grabbed the blade,
going deeper every time,
Slashed her wrist,
I cried and I cried.

A thousand miles away,
I am now in somber.
Why did you leave me?
I will always remember.

It was an accident,
I didn't do it.
Authorities coming,
located in closet.

I don't remember,
What just happened?
Knife it my hand,
You must be mistaken.

Everything was fine,
I went insane.
Four victims in total,
put out of their pain.

Blood on the ceiling,
blood on the walls.
Twenty eight slashes,
banished their souls.

A father, a mother
and two other kin.
I took them away
and committed a sin.

I was found guilty,
sentenced to die.
Finding no reason,
I'm about to cry.

My kills were my high,
I felt no remorse.
Life is a mystery,
it's has taken its course.

The day has come,
I sit in the chair.
It is over for me,
I no longer care.

I paid my debt,
for my heinous crime.
Please flip the switch,
so I can fry.

I lie here in bed,
hit by a chill.
I know the one,
it brings me still.

Pitch black surrounds,
crowding me whole,
sweats on my brow,
feelings are cold.

My body is solid,
flat as a board,
goosebumps risen,
sounds are scored.

Don't want to move,
my eyes do the most,
What did I see?
Am I seeing ghosts?

Shadows cast images,
up on the wall,
Can't make it out,
starting to fall.

Under the covers,
heart starts to pound.
Senses are scared,
my beliefs are abound.

Scared as hell now,
don't want to believe.
What lurks in the dark?
Is waiting for me.

It's finally gone
and I am still here.
What was that feeling?
That strangled my fear.

I am creative, not coordinated.
I am complex, not simplicated.
I am dark, not illuminated.
I am here, not alienated.

I am a now,  a dark, a complex and a creative poet.

Beware if you are afraid of the dark and watch your step as you leave.

I view the greens
of the cemetery field.
Graves full of flowers,
Except for one still.

Seasons had come,
seasons did go.
Summer's eve
and winter's cold

Headstones aligned,
all in a row,
a small single one,
sits all alone

No single flower
or family visits,
away from it all,
It's sad as I see it.

For ten long years,
nobody cared.
My feelings are somber
and mildly snared.

Viewing the marker,
my tears were so many.
The inscription it said,
"I love you, my daughter, Emily"

Deviant sound
penetrates my bone.
Inside the box,
hardened to stone.

Pounding and scraping,
six feet down.
Buried alive,
Silent and sound.

Dirt on the box,
softens my screams,
fight to the death,
don't want to leave.

Counting my time,
seconds don't last.
I am about to die,
My pain is the past.

Bore a hole
inside my brain,
open it up
and watch it drain.

Thoughts and dreams
waste away,
seeing nothing,
can not stay.

Mouth pinned shut
with wires and steel,
No screams of torture,
bloodied and sealed.

Lie naked on the slab,
Y on my chest,
You ripped my heart out,
I died like the rest.

Casting shadows of doubt,
tripping over myself.
Molten to the core,
put on the shelf.

Screws in my head,
pressure builds up,
Forty five degrees,
way to much.

Gauges turn red,
point of no return,
open the valve,
release or get burned.

Blinded by the steam
of terminal fates.
Staring alone
into the gates.

Looking at the stars
and squeezing the moon.
Down in the valley,
leaving real soon.

My mind gets trapped
in darkened bands,
hearing deep songs
by the traveling man.

Sad not fear,
plays it slow,
turning it back,
hearing the scold

Reversing the round,
demons release,
off with the head,
take it from me

Subliminally tripped,
it goes back around,
please turn it up,
Hearing no sound.

Step over boundaries
and seamless shores,
through the waves of eternity,
wanting no more.

Grandeur and stillness,
guiding our sight,
leaving us breathless,
searching for light.

Beauty surrounds,
erases the stain.
Inhale the air,
free with no vain.

Cautiously certain
and casually kind,
Seeing the world,
freeing our mind.

ACT I

Opening Act!!

My Life.

(Pause)

What was the punchline?

Because I didn't get the joke.

(Crowds laughs hysterically)

If silence is a virtue, then why do some people have to push my virtue button and make me yell?

SILENCE..PLEASE!!!!

Melancholy streets
fill my mind,
deranged moments
are easy to find.

On the corner
of hate and desire,
faith desserts me,
I am on the wire.

Bequeath my soul,
spread my wings.
Extinguish the fires,
finally I am free.

Devil's Dream

3/4 ounces of madness
1/4 ounce of insanity
1/4 ounce of delusion
1/2 ounce of darkness
1/4 ounce of incapacity
1/4 ounce of  violence
6 ounces of nightmares

Combine all ingredients into a shaker,
Shake intensely for 10 minutes until  thoroughly mixed up,  strain into a high ball asylum unbreakable glass, top with gasoline, light on fire and serve.

This should make one hell of a drink.

Thank you for visiting Satan's Pub, please come back any time.

I like a good laugh... I write dark but laugh lite.

Poetry, the true breakfast of champions.

If we are supposed to take the road least traveled, then, why does mine have so many **** potholes?

Show me Silence and I will make it scream.
Enjoy my muse, because this is my dream

He, who controls his pen and his poetry.
Controls the world.

What hide behinds, that ******* cloud?
Listen, real close..Shhh!!!

BOOM!!  Nice and loud!!!!

Flashes of light,
ballet across the sky.
Pulsating surges
electrify the night.

The mother is mad,
in all of her glory,
vengeance is amongst us,
hell hath no fury.

The rains subside,
damage is done.
No rainbows to see,
where is the sun?

This is Me.
The final part.
From one broken home,
to one broken heart.

Hidden behind the mask
of the old porcelain doll,
cracked and tortured.
I have seen it all.

Uncombed hair
and clothes that are rag,
Behold my feelings,
I am but sad.

No one would listen,
during my youth,
when I was a young man
or drinking my *****.

The alleys were dark
with walls caving in.
Hearing voices inside me,
that's where it begins.

Sitting alone,
by one candle light,
I saw pen and paper,
blown by surprise.

I started to talk,
with the pen in my hand,
writing muse on the pulp,
trying my hand.

I was confused,
my words were a mess.
To me, there just jumbles,
I must confess.

I read them back,
and started to sigh,
Because this is my sad story,
It made me  cry.

In eighty four,
when I was eighteen.
I joined the Navy,
so proud and so lean.

First day aboard,
my ship I laid footed.
An accident happened,
this guy was beheaded.

I witnessed it all,
a faint scream, now gone.
Blood everywhere,
I was shocked in stone.

Life is but different,
floating on the sea.
But darkness still lurks,
coming out of the deep.

They called it traditions,
it brought back my past.
The name callings, the torture,
How long will it last?

Hours turns days,
days into years.
Counting my time,
holding back tears.

We had risen the Shield,
another accident happened,
lost twenty one shipmates,
Never forgotten.

At one in the 'morn,
the ferry went down.
In the Bay of Haifa,
twenty one did drown.

They finally came home,
in a flag draped box,
Hearing taps on corner,
Home but not lost.

My demons continue,
to many deaf ear,
bring sadness and sorrow,
bring heartache and tears

One final vision,
that I can not erase.
my friend screamed horror
and the look on his face

The wheel of an aircraft,
rolled over his femur,
crushing and smashing,
Lost in a fever.

Blood and bones,
I'll never forget.
His piercing screams,
still gets me upset.

Twenty long years,
I lived on the sea.
Lost many great men
and their pain is still with me.

Onto my next step,
But what do I do?
These demons keep chasing me,
Can I **** them off too?

I went to school,
wanting to learn.
Instead of friends,
I just got burned.

I wasn't the fastest,
or even the smartest.
I sat in the back,
next to the kid with the glasses

First came the names,
I thought was a joke.
but the mood all changed,
internally I choked.

When the games were played,
I was picked last,
standing by myself,
it was always a laugh.

Names grew meaner,
as tall as the lad,
the hits came with it
I knew it was bad.

Black followed blue,
on covered up arms.
Didn't show my teacher,
I was afraid of the harms.

I had few friends
and they didn't even know.
The torture, that beset me,
hidden down below.

Each day, home from school,
I cried in my room.
Isolated and degraded,
Embedded in my tomb.

No one would be believe,
No teacher or a friend,
Had no where to turn to,
Felt like the end.

Teen life was a disaster,
living in solitary.
Wanted to change my life,
I joined the military.

This is my story,
so it will be.
Open your eyes,
but don't cry for me.

Started at five,
dad home from work
I had to grab him a beer,
oh, what a ****!!

Everyday he came home,
more drinks would follow,
off came the belt,
making me hollow.

Yelling commenced,
my mom on the floor,
"What did you say,
You ******* *****! !"

My screams were but silent,
in my own empty head.
Get out of this place,
wished I was dead.

Many years did follow,
of abuse on the walls,
Pounding and slamming,
No crying no calls

I never did laugh
and never did smile.
Just went to school,
getting by for awhile.

Anxieties fear agnostic fronts seeking a plethora of suicidal nightmares.

Drowning in the pools of  blood of the sacrificial lambs.

The reaper depraves our body of our soul;
leaving us in a pile of dark ashen earth.

That pile is blown away by the dusts of time, he crept in and we are no more.

I stacked up these bricks,
to build this wall.
You knocked it down,
to see it fall.

Higher and higher,
brick by brick.
Mortared and solid,
six feet thick.

Your words were explosive,
like gasoline.
Burning me inside,
feeling so mean.

All day and all night,
the barrage never stopped.
Feeling so guilty,
my senses were cropped.

I stood there and took it,
while you were so wild.
I was a boy,
but you were the child.

Crying asylum,
swallows me whole.
White coats surrounds me,
taking control.

Forcible pills,
from lady insane.
Swallow them down,
or wrenching in pain.

Rooms smell of *****
and ***** and such.
Banging your head,
it drives you just nuts.

There's Sam in the corner
counting the bugs,
Alice walks around
giving false hugs.

Look, standing there,
Mike's tearing his face.
Sue's so surine,
screaming in space.

Lights go dim
bed time is bout.
Voices are silenced,
cuz the needles came out.

Strapped to my bed,
I am piercing the dark.
Orderly walks by,
sharp as a lark.

Lying all quiet,
alone and not proud.
A squeal from the speaker,
quite vocal and loud.

Scurry in the hallway,
drinking from his cup.
"Dr. Smith to the Psych Ward!!!"
"Hurry, the patient woke up!!"

Pierce the veil or pierce the heart

Close the wound or let it bleed it out

Stand together or stand alone

Be strong or be afraid

Fight the war or raise the white flag

Lets be friends or just walk away

Choices

On rainy days
I see the gloom
Close the curtain
Here comes the doom.

Look out the window
Drops on the pane
Pulled me away
Feeling the strain

Yelling and screaming
Covering my ears
Away in my room
Distant from fears

Make it go away
Squeezing my pillows
Don't want to hear it
The argument continues

The silence is brutal
I hear no more falls
No slapping or cursing
The final curtain call

I used to love to sing,
with my lads from the alter.
Unison in song
and praised by the fathers.

After the prays were over,
the congregation was home,
a father standing by me,
prowling in his robe.

"Follow me, my son"
with his stern, demanding voice,
Terrified and staggered,
I had no other choice.

Praying for my Lord,
the only way I know.
Make this devil stop,
I only want to go.

Silence to everyone,
no one will believe.
Suffering inside,
makes me want bleed.

Ten years later now,
the pain will only stay,
burning up my soul,
so much left to say.

I will never forgive him,
he committed the biggest sin,
MAY YOU ROT IN HELL!!
YOU ARE GOING TO THE PEN! !

Welcome inside!
My own purgatory.
My twisted mind.
My melted story.

Down every hallway,
open a different door.
Tempted by temptation,
fearing nature's *****.

Mirrors on the ceiling,
reflecting a dark stare.
Blood drips from the corners,
makes you want to dare.

Tiptoe to the staircase,
spirals out of pitch.
Death grip on the banister,
devil makes me trip.

Sinister and evil,
shadows follow me.
No more mental hauntings,
wake me from this dream.

Trapped by my surroundings,
biting every bit,
Seeing everything red,
by every blowing hit.

No perfect little world,
or perfect little bell.
Won't you trade me places?
Within my own living hell

Time to go back,
into my place.
Where no one can see me,
no light or no grace.

Time to go back,
into my hole.
Where all is forgotten,
all pain is fore told.

Time to go back
into my hell.
Where the creature is waiting,
that torturous cell.

Time to go back
into my sane.
Where my fortune is told,
all crazy as rain.

Time to go back
into my youth.
Where my story is begun
with the heel of a boot.

I dreamt I was lying,
forever dying.

Death is a question,
Life's but a mention.

I dreamt I was sitting,
forever believing.

Sadness is pure fear,
Happiness is but sheer.

I dreamt I was standing,
forever pandering.

Sight is not seeing,
blindness is but believing.

I dreamt I was writing,
forever sighing.

Hearing has no sound,
Listening is to bound.

I dreamt I was fed,
forever I was dead.

If passion is a crime,
Is my muse but a disease?

If love is a ******,
Is my ink but the blood?

If *** is the devil,
Is my paper but the cure?

If life is the game,
Is my passion not to write?

Did you study for the test of life?
I sure hope so.
But ask yourself this question,
Did I pass or fail?

Don't kick off me this writer's high,
Take my pen, will  make me cry.

The paper's my quilt, where I write my muse,
Warming all souls which have taken their views

So let the ink dry, straight from quarry.
This writer gets high by telling his story.

Encountered by chance,
seeking out the thrill,
Stepping over ideas,
swallowing the pill.

Piercing the hourglass,
the sands of time are sold.
No turning back,
there is a story to be told.

Our holidays were not special,
counting up all the years.
No joy or not happy,
only rages and fears.

Christmas' was unkind,
Presents all in a row.
My uncle dressed up as Santa,
then took me to mistletoe.

My birthday was meant for me,
but was really for the sin.
No blowing out the candles,
the evil did begin.

I saw the bunny hopping,
hiding all the eggs,
oh god, it was him,
Please, STOP! touching between my legs!!

Finally, Halloween!!
It's my only crutch.
Make this evil stop
I cringed at his touch!

The New Year rolled around,
I finally feel alive.
I killed that evil man
with the blade of my knife.

Balled up in the corner,
Head down to my knees.
This is my concealment.
This is my only plea.

Too afraid, to stand alone
against the evils that were sent.
They will never go away,
I am trying to repent.

Sin combined with lust,
greed within my head.
Falling off the cliff,
soon I may be dead.

Injected in my soul,
with tracks upon my arm.
Do I hang the rope?
Or do myself no harm?

Seeking no way out,
Seeing the illusion.
Drop another dose,
and take another poison.

Take away this pain
and sacrifice my soul.
I don't deserve to live,
So bury me in the hole.

What is the last poem that I will ever read?
Make it amazing, so I can sleep.

Give me a mountain, give me a stream,
Give me the sky, drop me in dream.

Do I see the Raven or To Whom the Bell Tolls?
The House of the Seven Gables seen as it falls.

If there is any heavens by e.e. Cummings,
Listen very closely, the angels are humming

I feel my final breathes, leaving my soul.
The final poem that read was one of my own.