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Triston Wareing Jun 2016
I didn't sleep last night

Tossing and turning from another body count driven by a terrorist organization with no true goal then to cause mayhem

God take me back to the USSR

The statues of blue collared workers in the streets

It wouldn't matter if you were a carpenter, a doctor, or a farmer.

You were all on the same train heading to your families at the end of the day.

Take me back to the time people didn't profit off the water sold to the thirsty

Take me back to the day when people didn't drive a dollar from the sicks oxygen

By god take me to when a potato farmer wasn't spending more for his dirt then he was getting in return for his natural resources

I am *******.

The generation we are growing up in is being coddled.

Our hands don't need to be held because we are forming our own opinions that have been foreign to you.

We believe in what happened behind your door is your business.

Because love is love and we are all in this world together
  
Your generation has not always picked the best leader.

This time isn't seeming any different.

How can we appoint a man that isn't confident enough to show his bald spot and is forced to wear a toupee.

Well let me tell you something.

America is bald. And there is no toupee to cover up are **** ups  

We are not a broken generation we are just being shadowed by forefathers that set guidelines for a corrupt corporate government.

Sit the **** down and give us our voice back

Or we will pack up.

And go back to the USSR

God please take me back to the USSR
Jun 2016 · 434
Drunken Lust
Triston Wareing Jun 2016
I want 12 o clock udf trips

I want to wake up next to you at 6 in the morning to simply give you a kiss and go to work

Because in America. After love, the only thing we have to sit on are the blue collar workers fighting the good fight to give us the freedom to love

I want your hand in mine,
But never touching wrist. Because you said you are afraid of our veins popping out.
But I'm afraid that if they do they will tie in knots and I won't be able to let go

You are stuck in a lump of post fling relationships that hold you back from tying  your veins into mine

From letting the tips of our hair connect in a patch of daises on the cold ashy ground of a meadow in woods of fallen comrades

Because although most wars are fought with guns

The good ones are fought with words.

I need our love to stand true and not fall through because I'm running out of puppy dog nicknames for random girls that always fall short of grasping my heart the way you did.

Your grasp is an iron maiden that caught hold two years ago

At times I feel it dies to the torture of the cold metal spike

But for that there are plenty of cold peanut butter milkshakes with chocolate milk, because white milk is just to normal for someone as abnormal as you

But I do understand there is a lot holding you back.
There is a man fighting a war that has no purpose being behind enemy lines
And if I have learned something in my many years. I support the brave troops. But I cannot support the wars for a materialistic freedom driven by oil consumption and corporate *******

I love you Because you are much like an American flag. Though we have been burned so many times. Even on fire we are a symbol of beautiful freedom that struck me in my childhood and that will carry through my soul for the rest of my days

If you love something set it free.
But you are already a beautiful fire flapping your opinion in the wind
Telling me when I'm being unreasonable or quite frankly a bit of a sarcastic *******

But I cant be upset at you
I've given you more reasons then one to not put your faith in me,
Anytime things get rough or I'm afraid of hurting you. I distance myself

But I will never forget the time you told me it hurts you more when I leave
Because I forced myself to choke back tears from the pain of tearing my arms away from you

My last words will not be as meaningful as Che Guevara
They will not be as ironic as tom Ketchum
They will not be as dark as Edgar Allen Poe
But they will mean something
Even though they have been said so many times
It will be simply this
I love you
Triston Wareing Jun 2016
Oh oh come friends. To the river we go

I don't know what situations led to us to come to this magical places.

And I don't know what led me to the i75 alone behind a steering wheel

Oh oh come friends to the river we go

I'm not good at phone calls

But curse my name if I wasn't driving and listen to you talk about your day to your friends mom through satellites.

Oh oh come friends. To the river we go

We have disconnected the call and I'm still thinking of the past days I've listened to you.

I'm stuck thinking what if this is a friends fling like with your friends and your friends friends.

And I think what if this is another excuse to love my self a little more

I think what if this an excuse to drown someone out

I think what if I hurt myself on another person

I think what if you

And I smile

That's all it took.

Was the mere thought of awkwardly reaching for you hand

And I smiled.

Oh oh come friends. to the river we go

There is a traffic jam and I am in the fast lane blaring don't fear the reaper

We are merging lanes

To the right and I am stuck in thought

We are merging lanes

And to the middle I am lighting a cigarette

We are merging

And to the right I am
BAM !

Oh oh come friends to the river we go.

There was no collusion

Just the sound of an 80 thousand dollar bmws horn

A sight I would have been jealous of before
But on this night I don't need a car to smile

On this night I don't need fancy things

On this night I just need you

Oh oh come friends. To the river we go.

I'm passing the sign for the Ronald Reagan highway

And 65 miles per hour has never felt so fast

I want to talk to you but I can hear your voice scolding me for looking at my phone while on the road.

But I smile
I can hear your voice
I can feel you there next to me
And I'm still happy at the mere thought of you


Oh oh come friends to the river we go  

With you I don't need luck
We can split a thousand poles
We can laugh at the thought of a Buddha belly
We can step on 4 leaf clovers
We can walk under ladders because your hand will be in mine and that is the only luck I need

Oh oh come friends to the river we go.

The sight of this river under me is almost as beautiful as you.
Sitting on the bank watching my new friends passionately Kiss while standing on the ruins of a smoldering burnt American flag with jemi Hendrix playing is almost as infinite as you
But nothing will make me happier then being with you.

Oh oh come friends. To the river we go
May 2016 · 760
Mirror
Triston Wareing May 2016
Mechanic
Photographer
Writer
Poet
Boy genius
Slacker
Son ?
Dad ?
Dad
What else do I see in the mirror
Why does the thought of me being you scare me in the most exciting way
We fight
You speak better with your fist than you ever have with words
And what if one day my words are jumbled in the cracking of knuckles
Don't cry son
Big boys don't cry
Choke it back
Be strict in a lenient way and
One day it will be you hated
One day it will be you who fight with the mother of your children
And stop fighting with the mother of mine
Why do you do this
Why is she crying again

Oh my god I am just like you
We are two of the only men that can bring her to tears
Say you'll leave
Say you'll leave and make her fall
She keeps grasping you In a picture


The Funeral :
which one of us will die first
With your old age
And my stupid addictions
If it were me would you cry
If it were you would I
No matter what would happen.
I gave an arm for you
And I would proudly give more

I look back to days of fishing in a creek
Getting our feet wet but still walking with shoes on because broken glass isn't forgiving in the slightest way

Where was your alcoholic rage that should have been passed down from generations above you
Where was that Irish man temper with a Portuguese flare
Where were you when the police picked me up and I was no longer your son
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
But somethings need to be burned
That trash cans with recyclables called to my eco friendly egotistical pyromaniac self

The words echo like that slap in the face At our kitchen table
You are dead to me
You were born first.
But on that day, I would die last.  

As time flies
Your health isn't standing
I'm slowly being force to migrate as the head of this house
This broken family with my brother moving up the street
Somehow still by your side
Out of one side of his mouth saying I love but out of the other side cursing your lies

Two daughters, that will be nothing like us
Two daughters that will be brought up in a broken generation  
Two daughters that put hammer to the nail finalizing the responsibilities that follow the title of
I an uncle
He a father
And you an elder

With these children around I've made the full discovery of something that has always been there

Through the hard times you've stuck by our side.
I love you dad
Triston Wareing May 2016
Teacher preacher while I have your attention can you please take a seat

Teacher preacher I need an explanation
I'm not allowed to think and I feel like a patient

Teacher preacher how do you expect me to sit and listen
When earlier this morning mom and dad were arguing in the kitchen

Teacher preacher I haven't learned anything new since the fourth grade
All this time, I swear it seems like my consciousness is starting to fade

The **** you teach us doesn't even matter
Long as we graduate, go to college, climb the ladder
But without your full attention our entire future will shatter

Teacher preacher you're supposed to be here to shape my mind
Teacher preacher it's time to take a step back and let me shine

Teacher preacher I've had a rough day
But you yell at me when I try to hide in my hats shade

Teacher preacher these are the last words on the page
Teacher preacher I'm your puppet and this is your stage

No wait back up ...
I need to clean my act up
Come Sunday in walking at graduation
When last Sunday I was selling good Haitian
But a gun to the head will **** with you respiration
You don't need the money just quit that desperation.

Capitalism
Take take take
**** with the come up
They find you in that lake lake lake

But excuse my attitude
What would you do when your role models was drug dealers
And Hug stealers  
And plug kneelers
And wig splinters
And

As the time passes I'm tired of making momma cry
As the time passes I'm tired of being that guy
But hate to see my family struggle
In twenty years probably look back on this and force a chuckle

But once and for all for all the people that doubted me
*******
come Sunday it's my stage
And all my success is written on that page
May 2016 · 514
Dear Mother
Triston Wareing May 2016
Dear Mother
You have always been there in my time of need
The facts of life, that I have learned
A beautiful mother will always have her boys to feed
No matter the age, I know your respect must be earned

I may be tall and stout
But i would never run my mouth
Because no matter how big I sprout
I will always remember you grow up in the south

This year I didn't get you flowers
But instead I sat down and wrote this
It might have taken a few hours
So please read this in complete bliss

In fifteen days I will  be a man
In fifteen days I will enter the real world
In fifteen days life might turn bland
But in fifteen days I will get to see you twirl

For even though I am leaving high school
I will always remain close to home
Because with a mother like you it would take a fool
To take off and roam

Because no matter how many  miles  traveled
There will be a spot in your heart for me
That will not be tainted or unraveled
But rather be open and free

<3 I love you mom <3
May 2016 · 1.4k
Teacher preacher
Triston Wareing May 2016
Teacher preacher while I have your attention can you please take a seat

Teacher preacher I need an explanation
I'm not allowed to think and I feel like a patient

Teacher preacher how do you expect me to sit and listen
When earlier this morning mom and dad were arguing in the kitchen

Teacher preacher I haven't learned anything new since the fourth grade
All this time, I swear it seems like my consciousness is starting to fade

The **** you teach us doesn't even matter
Long as we graduate, go to college, climb the ladder
But without your full attention our entire future will shatter

Teacher preacher you're supposed to be here to shape my mind
Teacher preacher it's time to take a step back and let me shine

Teacher preacher I've had a rough day
But you yell at me when I try to hide in my hats shade

Teacher preacher these are the last words on the page
Teacher preacher I'm your puppet and this is your stage
May 2016 · 285
What is life really
Triston Wareing May 2016
What is life really
One moment after another
Until one day
Someone has stopped calling
They stop breathing
People left to stand over a coffin
But soon enough
Enough moments will pass
And their funeral will not be the last

What is life really
One moment after another
Until one day
someone is gathered around your casket
Talking about your last words
But soon enough
Enough moments will pass
And your funeral will not be the last
May 2016 · 671
YOU ARE NAMELESS
Triston Wareing May 2016
what the hell is wrong with me
What have I become
IM NOT READY ?
Seriously ...
I blame this on a curse
On a love that is burning
On a what if
Two years ____
You've given two years
You waited
You waisted
She's not coming back
How'd it feel
Show empathy
Show empathy
Show empathy
You've been there
Why am I doing this to another soul
You've been there
Not in tears, but In a ****** knuckle stoop,
Of rage, and pain, and lies
OH THE LIES
she didn't lie to you
But you to her


You were, was, are the best thing that has ever happens to me.
Two years is a blink of an eye

I love you like a classic car.
I admire your smell and beauty
Your sound and movement
But I can only love from afar

NO! **** THAT

You are mine
You are mine
I will wait for the day we align
I will wait for the day we are porch kids
For the day we are porch parents
For the day we are porch grand parents

So for eternity we will share
Coffee and laughs
Cigarettes and tears
Tender love and passionate fights

                     Till the day
                            We will have
                                        Eternity .....
May 2016 · 379
GET THE FUCK AWAY
Triston Wareing May 2016
Night time is the worst times to write

My dreams are blocked

Instead I lay, absorbing everything like a camera.

I hear the crickets chirp

Feel the cool trickle of the water pouring from the water spout

I have the inevitable passion to just get up and run

Run from all the past thoughts and memories

Run to a quiet place that is too loud to bear because some times silence has the highest decibel

I want to jump and be swallowed by a sea of fire

Anywhere is better than here

Anyone is better than you

And anytime before that night I was happy
Apr 2016 · 280
Writers stories
Triston Wareing Apr 2016
It's a delicate situation

It's a sickness that has no cure

Much like a headache sometime sleep is the best thing

Sometimes you wake up worse than you were the night before

What happened to that train of thought.

What makes the pen too heavy

What makes the alcohol easier

Why can't I just pick up the pen and write this down  

What power does my mind have to flip on and off the switch of everlasting emotion

Can it truly be this easy to watch your life go by like a sitcom

I still can't figure out if I Am on the outside looking in or am I on the inside looking out.

Maybe is the whiskey shots in The crowded western saloon

Or chain smoking to the thought and desperation of death

Where does the story stop and the man begin

— The End —