Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Dec 2013 · 1.3k
Here she comes walking
Here she comes walking
The silent steps that hover on egg shells
Velvet incarnation
Her every word is where my mind dwells
There she goes walking
My body must be made of glass
Her eyes stay set forward
and I shatter with her pass
I'm sorry you had to steal
what was already freely given.
I hope your heart never burns
like mine did the day I wrote that.
I give to you freely
what you honestly deserve,
that is a second chance,
and a word of advice.
Give from yourself,
no gift can ever be poorly graded.
Sep 2013 · 1.1k
OMENSoMeNsOmEnS
With my words, I conjure up Hell, and Hell takes the form of the familiar. This shell will double, and double, and double. Prototype for the archetype am I. She, the murk, will permeate; hive mind motherhood.
Sep 2013 · 1.4k
Equations
trudging through mud waist-deep
these lungs are billows of smog and
these hands are brittle claws
world-breaker, I am fate unseen
through the clearest of lenses,
and the most acute of baubles
simple phrases caught in raw
and searing throats
with these ideas, my brain molds
an even more bothersome equation
tlp
Sep 2013 · 910
Disqualified
When I was a kid,
folding chairs
were my kryptonite.
Sep 2013 · 1.8k
Pennywise Bathroom
I seem to have forgotten,
this is the
Pennywise bathroom.
Decrypted Version:


We both knew what we did to each other was out of revenge

You're in the next city over, and she is here, making me feel again

Staying up in an Adderall talking fervor, and the passionate love we made the second night

and there was Mike, singer of that band named after the local graveyard, passing out expensive beers

I never want to call you, oh center of my universe

But every day, before you left for school, I would, ridden with guilt

I never wanted to leave my room again. Alone I stayed in fear.

-

Every time you left for vacation, I felt like I would *****

A paradise on the beach along the Carolina shore

You said you wanted to be single and free

Your March birthday rolled around, I was gone, and you were just alone

You left the girl I love at that beach with the charming fellas

You brought back something far worse, and numb

-

You've found a new love, and I've seen how he tries to out do what I did

The words and promises of us that you drew all over your walls now painted over

Now that you and your family have left that place

Megan wrote on your ceiling the night we all stayed together. It made you laugh

I'm in your backyard, wishing I could look back and in.

-

The new love in your life has become a perfect copy of me. You sculpted him that way

You know longer feel weak when an insult comes rushing to you

I really did make you tough and numb

Because no one could say anything more vile than I did

-

I guess this really is the end for us

We'll never see that spark we had reunite

I can't replace you, I don't want to replace you

-

Were the three years we spent together a waste?

I'm descending into another deep hole

-

I'll never come out again.




Original Version (Which is still available on my page):


An eye for an eye was the reason we acted

You’re so far away and I can’t stop the fireworks

Talking the night away, the exhausted second meeting

A sip of ale from the singer in the graveyard

I never wanted to call to the Sun

But every morning I would cave in

I buried myself in an empty room

-

The trips were acidic to my tongue

Beaches filled with trinkets and sands

“Fish swim, forever free” you tell yourself

Now, Pisces, who is the one swimming?

Buried in the sands is what I remember

The other half is lost

-

Am I the one to defeat now?

The words that stained the walls are now sparkling white

Abandoned

“Now close you eyes and sleep” she wrote

I’m somewhere between the ponds and the highway

-        

The mimics and shadows match suit and play their roles

The words do no sting or stick

Tough as leather, from the arrows

That flowed from me like a river

-

This product is finished

Ignition improbable, idiot.

No courage and hardly a motive

-

Triplet years

Falling backwards

-

My head is buried
In this decryption of one of my older poems, I reveal what I was trying to hide from myself and avoid actually saying. This is one of those poems where you may think one is better than the other, but in reality, they're both just a painful reminder for me, something you may or may not have realized when the poem was first posted in its original context. I've posted both versions here for the sake of some comparison in case you haven't read the original or are just too lazy to find it on my page. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did rewriting it.

Thank you for your constant support and kind words.
-Ty
Sep 2013 · 1.9k
Hello Poetry, I am Tyler.
My uncle slit a man's throat with a box cutter in my childhood home and didn't apologize.
Sitting in a circle filled with crack smoke and stale beer breath.
This is a shining example of what I've lived with
and the lengths I've had to go to escape the thing people call "destiny".

Thievery, lies, pressure, and violence
has been calling my name for the longest.
But I know the voice too well to be taunted.  

Words are my freedom and words are my piece of mind.
There is not a single substitute.
Whether poem, prose, or paragraph,
This is the only calling I've ever had.

I've lived with a hoarder, addicts, senility, and ignorance
in a variety of different combinations and forms.
At times, power, water, freedom, money, necessities, have all been an unachievable thing to me.
Lost to the vile goals of those folk I love.
I am the only one who sees the beauty in the fragile and odd.
The others see only a mess on a paper, and move their eyes to the nearest glowing box.

My father drowned when I was six.
My grandfather followed soon after.
My mother felt the stab of this and caved so many times.
I witnessed and shared the burden of her pain and grief.
My grandmother forgot everything she ever loved or knew, and short after passed as well.
Pets and possessions,
friends and followers.
All gone with a drastic breeze.
I am the one with the vision, but I am trapped in a shell of a city,
covered with that wretched stink of refined soy.

Will I be able to unburden the world from myself?
You all give me such great courage and allow me to share the beauty as I see it.
You all have such great skill with symbols and it makes me feel like home isn't far.
I want this. I want this.

If I keep breathing like the rest of the world
I feel I may miss the sound of the world's heartbeat.
But my death would not bring a solution for the ones I love.
Only a warrant for more death.
I need this. I need this.

With my words, I conjure up hell.
And hell brings with it the familiar.
Run little kitties, run.
The Doubling House and The Sequential Church will not hold forever.
My havens are temporary, but the craters are forever.
I will struggle till the pain becomes all I am
and I buckle under the weight of what I shouldn't have taken
from the mighty Atlas.

I do this for me.
I do this for you.
I plan on this being much longer once I find the time and courage to add to it.
Sep 2013 · 11.1k
Party Night (Rumors)
Even the idea was worthy of a fight
and all too much preparation.
We dolled ourselves up for alienation,
even though the faces present
were so familiar and etched into memory.

Who are you Mr.Cool?
If that is your real name.
Whiskey breath and filterless smokes
only impresses the girls in the movies,
with scripts written by clueless men
like you, who can't supply injury
so they bring only insult.

You are a secretary bird,
a mime, and the copycat kid.
Trying to be a bad boy and hide
amongst the spoiled brats you claim.

Keep on burrowing and severing ties,
ravishing resources leads to ruin.

You say you've heard rumors?
Well, I've heard facts.
I've seen facts!

Your parasitic disguise will crumble
under the weight of your genuinely selfish persona.
While the company I keep will only know
the side you wished to reveal
in front of all the pretty boys and girls.
Sep 2013 · 605
S.G.P.
You are the shelter, my egg.
A half-reflection of my time here.
I write with your hands,
I see through your eyes -
Green as the street where we spent
the two decades that meant the most.

So hip that you dissolved one of yours.
Always bringing the truth to the surface.
Not a law, a threat, or problem to stop you.
Defined by a friendly face and welcoming tone.
Refined by a southern hand and an era of sinners.
A mother to us all.

These words are all I have to give;
You taught me every last one.
Letters arranged to define the world.
Even though you know my intentions,
Remember, I do this because you let me be me.

You deserve enlightenment and laughter
Forever and again.
To my wonderful mother.
Sep 2013 · 1.4k
Shady Mountain Song
Obsidian-eater tells no fables,
Cloud-breather tells no facts,
and upon the Shady Mountain
you must memorize your tracks.
Safe shelter will elude you here.
Your mind will not know rest,
and every thought you held so dear
will be challenged with this test.

Rise up to the jagged summit
to view the landscape covered in tar.
The countryside has been corrupted
from sailing too close to the vile Null-Star.
Now sits a lake of umbral murk
where once were valleys ****** to vex.
This is truly the contrast of beauty;
Memories of life left only as specks.

Below the surface, in deep slumber,
the planet's heart beats in the core.
It knows not of your hardships,
just what it has in store.
A planetary cleansing
to wash away this putrid sin,
and upon this Shady Mountain
is where it will begin.
Sep 2013 · 723
Farsight
I could spend lifetimes staring at

the half-lit wick that glows behind your eyes

That twinkle that make the stars seem sickly

and the dawn seem a dreary maze

-

Fear may be the mind killer

but anticipation goes for the heart

Breathing to break the anxious calm

that accompanies this unknowing

-

Yours are the words that bound me

and yours are the words that beckoned me into the fire

This is my punishment

Without you, I fall
Sep 2013 · 1.0k
Molting Freedom (Cosmic Egg)
Tethered no more by this umbilical chain
We break through the shell - Burst through the seed
Fingers laced and reaching up toward the big blue
Eyes gaining sight, sight meeting light
We bathe ourselves in the warming glow
Sol's sweet kiss to ease and simmer
Terra's touch to point the steps
We haven't much further to climb
-
Tree of Life - Home - Mother - Bed
Your roots we leave for Eden
Sky of Thought - Dream - Father- Blanket
Your wind will guide our wings
We gain friend in fire, rock, and storm
To tinker with the gifts of Titans
Together we rise and seek the stars
So we may spread the songs and preach the past
-
We go by Gaea, We go by God
Underneath our pagan star's shine
At night, symphonies will charm them
And we dance together until we fade
gain we lay into the palms of dream
The fingers of sleep, clench to a fist
Grinding us down to the finest of dusts
To glow and blow into the zephyrs
-
Part 1: Reborn the Monster

They attack with weapons made of steel
Their arms are raised to the sky
They inflict the wounds that never heal
This is the day they die
-
They come running this way
They want to take our home
They go fleeing that way
They'll never leave us alone
-
Reborn the mind
Reborn the monster
Reborn the mind
Reborn the monster
-
I may die, searching, with nothing left to hold on
I try ever so hard to save my time
But this curse can't be lifted
and this crime will live on.
-
This is my time.
They say it is nothing but lies.
But I know, this is my time.
-
Life is nothing,
but body and blood
Reborn the monster,
deep in the flood.
-
Body to blood
Ashes, dust, and mud


Part 2: This Ship Will Sink. This Ship We'll Drown.

Can you feel my heart beat?
Can you feel my soul reach out to you?
To you, my apathetic love.
Can you feel my soul trying
to let my anger crawl to you?
To you, my apathetic love.
-
Fall back!
Becoming more than I ever will be.
And me? They all say
I'm nothing more to you.
-
Fall back!
Heaven will spiral downward,
leaving behind the dark ashes
of our hopes and dreams...


Part 3: The Void Have Thrones

I come with feelings
of regret, remorse, and agony.
To cleanse the wounds,
and heal the scars of atrophy.
My blood is your blood,
and in a sense, we can't die.
I am immortal,
so shed no tear this is no goodbye.
-
Falling deeper into nothing.
Maybe all the kings are dying on their thrones.
-
I am alive.
Open your eyes and see the light.
I am alive.
Deep in your mind is where I thrive.


Part 4: Revenge

We will strike in the dead of night.
The torches burn with a dim light.
They wait for you.
We wait for you.
We will come, cloaked in black.
We will spare no attack.
They wait for you.
We wait for you.
-
Dull wind blows
Moon shines bright
I die here
In the night
-
Lightning,
travels through the ancient tower.
Scathing,
light of lights. Feel its power.
-
Honorable man of valor,
avenge my dying plea.
Do this in revenge of me.


Part 5: The Beholder

Would you give your life
for a chance to save your soul
from the overwhelming darkness
that will send your heart into the hole?
Can you feel its grip,
choking off the air you breathe?
A burning in your chest.
The fire in your words will seethe.
-
With dagger in hand
I'll take your life
My oath fulfilled
Feel my knife
-
Would you take a chance,
to give life where all is lost?
Making your amends
before every line is crossed.
Open up your eyes
and maybe you will see the light.
There can be no winner
in this endless fight.


Part 6: Cresthaven is Drowning

Rise
Move on forward
We have to bring down this tyranny
Fire when you're ready
We have to fight on for humanity
Fear nothing in your way
Tireless man of war
Strike when they aren't looking
Hear their pleading cries spring forth
-
Onward we carry
Our hollow dream
Earth may tempt me
But it's never what it seems
-
This is the ****** machine
Take it in for what it seems
Breathe inside your final air
You're now a child of despair
Time has passed right before your eyes
Moments you wish you'd realized
-
The storm clouds that hang overhead
Plagues us with the dead
The water falling from overhead
Plagues us with the dead
With no mercy at hand
All the people cry out
Cresthaven is Drowning!
Sep 2013 · 665
Karzak Gordra
******* up souls and spitting out spells
from tentacles with lips at the tips that talk.
Belching out blasphemies from the birth of filth,
that causes the blood to boil from within.
One single eye to pierce the fear filled mind;
a glare that bores - gray matter hungry probe.
The color of wretched bile, with a similar scent.
An oozing beast that has haunted the aeons;
speaking through nightmares and whispering
a supply of chilly lies into the ears of brittle men.

Karzak Gordra on high
Dwell within the murky depths
of man's rotten mind

Swim to your meal, Karzak Gordra
Make home in the dark
and pass over the young

Karzak Gordra on high
Fear naught, filthy lad
Weep for me in days to come
Aug 2013 · 1.6k
United Sectors of Utopia
In the age of prophylactics,
we build skyscrapers out of plastic
Agents of terror trade their bombs in for germs
So we make ourselves prisoners to serve out life terms
Unscalable walls that circle each axis

Hemispherical gates in which they have stored us
Intersecting steel Orobouros
With plenty the yeast farm to serve as our food,
and trend setting deities that change with our mood
A quarter united, we sing out a chorus

Hyper-interactive nonsense to entertain
Connected by a network direct to the brain
With war buried deep, next to monarchs and castles
Their drones target  individuals to save them the hassle
While we sleep in our bubbles, ignorant of pain
Part of what is hopefully to be a much larger project. Any suggestions on where to go from here?
Aug 2013 · 750
Blah
Lofty

Aimlessly floating
Destination unknown

Inspiration escaping grasp
Silver lining lost
Pages left unturned

Cloudy is the day
Restless is the night
Left to recklessly dream
Within a thoughtless mind

Sleep is the only seclusion
For dreaming will not cease
Oh, such a keen villain
She is waiting so silently
Mouth watering; ready to strike
Had some fun with the patterns in this one.
Aug 2013 · 857
Temple of Pigs
In the temple built from straw,
humanity gives way to something animal.
Primal chanting of age of songs
and the hypnotic undulating of carnal dance
mark that spirits of the eldest
have arrived from their planar journey.

In the temple built from wood,
baubles have been blessed by the watcher.
Portraits crying oil, and statues carved from ivory
that slurp up spoonfuls of goat's milk.
Even the patron's tongues are sacred;
spouting the language of the birds.

In the temple built from stone,
all entrances have been sealed from view.
The scriptures are now so sacred
that they resonate only within these walls.
Soothing secrets for the selected pious
who give God their gold so graciously.

In the temple of the wolf
there is but one parishioner present.
No doors, no floors, no walls or ceilings;
just keen eyes and a mind unclouded.
Breathing and dreaming worship
within his body most holy.
Aug 2013 · 874
The Mountain Shepherdess
At dawn's first light, she awakens,
casting off her grey stone shell.
Her skin reflects Old Sol's blaze,
revealing no sign of age or blemish.

She takes to the tower's spiral staircase,
descending with the timely grace
of Autumn's auburn leaves falling.
To the pier, she walks alone.

She comes to rest on an ivory throne
and casts her gaze upon the mountainside.
Dining on dates and a spectrum of berries
as she solemnly inspects every summit and base.

Sailing down from overhead,
a hunting falcon attempts to catch a view
of the maiden seated on her chiseled cloud.
She neither blinks, nor turns. Eyes set upon the jagged rocks.

Her purpose is frightful, but she continues.
From eras since passed and still to unhatch,
she waits for the mountains to come alive.
Once more, she will tend to her hard-set herd.
Aug 2013 · 523
Sol-Song
Sing a song for my humble eyes

With the voice of the fiery Sun

And when you get to the reprise

Do not falter, do not run
I crawled out kicking and screaming, born from the fires of a Dragon’s throat

My tongue created the blasphemy of which all demons spoke

My entrails are lined with sulfur, my heart pumps mercury

Fear provides me a humble bliss and anger shelters me


Upon your belly you shall go

And dust shall you eat all of your days

You shall be the lowest form of life

Cursed you’ll be until you meet your grave


By my hand I impale the remorseful king

And by my fires I purged his soul

Remarking as the ember quenched

Thus your crown is scorched and dull


Upon your belly you shall go

Crawling helplessly all of your days

You are the lowest form of life

You shall receive none of my praise
I gaze into the lapis lazuli embedded behind your eyes

And I read the words that are engraved on its pristine surface

“I hide in the dust of diamonds and bathe in Luna’s glow”

Inscriptions of a fiery passion from the heart of Aphrodite

What deities were praised to conjure such an immaculate apparition?

A vesper turned mortal by the north wind

Gilded in the feathers of seraphs-on-high

And garbed in the fineries of the seventh son of a seventh son
Aug 2013 · 835
Foggy Souls
The smoke clouds the room
with a thick fog of false confidence
and we can’t help but breathe it all in
We seek to absorb what we can’t have
and embrace every thing that brings us harm
I see you standing there alone
and I hear your soul singing
the same song as mine
The song that harmony and dissonance
cannot define
Aug 2013 · 1.3k
Curveball
Magnetically drawn
by your goddess curves.
Mind weaving
slick scenarios.
10w
Aug 2013 · 492
Glass Girls
Floral print dresses
for the girls
who stare past me.
10w
Aug 2013 · 1.3k
Lyrics for Lonely Whales
Wispy, subtle words leave your tongue,
floating from lips to ear with ease.
Leaving behind a trail of silver dust;
sonic spores spinning streams of song.
Lighter than the air they rest upon.

One voice, bending harmonies into new mold.
Locking my eyes into place.
Paralyzed from the fear of any movement -
making a noise to scamper into this sacred sound scape.
Fluttering lyrics like brittle, little moths
seeking out a flame. Dying to be heard.

Melodies lifting, lingering in yellow.
Dissonance, crisply crashing, mixing to green.
Washed away by a refreshing blue refrain.
Only to be boiled into the ole' gold chorus.

Anthem of awakening for the foolish sleeper.
This is the song of the migrating flock -
the hymn of the winter-slumbering hive
to tell of the memories of many springs past.

So I sit, simmering in suspense.
Hoping, praying that the silence not return.

Sounds of leaves laughing as the wind -
tickles them on the tips of their branch-homes.
Aug 2013 · 751
The Bog Man
There is a thing that lives in a cave in the woods

A desperate and silent villain

We keep it at bay with one simple secret

DV UVVW RG GSV YPMMW MU MFI XSRPWIVN

He comes in the hour of the wispy dew

There is only one thing that can purge him

At the foot of the hills beneath the mist

DV HPRG GSV GSIMZG MU Z ERITRN

With an elder’s body and a serpent’s tongue

He licks at the altar with hunger

Revealing the scar he loves to bear

SV RI NZIQVW DRGS GSV WVERP’H NFOYVI

He comes again and again, night after night

We can’t keep up with the slaughter

To make sure his belly is never unfilled

DV NFHG RNLIVTNZGV ZPP MU MFI WZFTSGVIH
I think I finally got this right...
Aug 2013 · 535
Walk on, Man of reason
Lost in a blanket of fog

We dream of decades long past

Worlds of such perfection and youth

Worlds, gone into the night

Spiral pathways mark the truth

Long winding roads of tireless intricacy

Falling from every angle

Walk on, Man of reason

The Future, the undeniable truth

We have for us an unwritten plan

The pen strokes yet to dry

We have all the time in the world
Aug 2013 · 700
Laconism and the Merfolk
I trade my footing for liquid paradise

An aquatic Eden of my design

Isolation is a lullaby

Publicity is the nightmare that follows

Steadily sinking below the waves

My glory waits at the lake bed

No one to see me here as the darkness intensifies

I seek only the silence that the surface lacks

My body goes limp as the waves move me

Sinking has never been so uplifting

As my body gently reaches the bottom

The last of the air leaves my lungs

It will not be missed

I am content here in my dark paradise

It is quiet

It is calm

It is lonely

Peace and tranquility at last
Aug 2013 · 1.4k
Elby
My grandfather had always felt like a sturdy tower that I could lean against

or a mighty redwood that offered peaceful shade

from the hot sun.

He was a very tall,

very strong man,

and the years of working hard labor

and hopping trains through The Great Depression

seemed to etch a certain unique dignity

into his persona.

Raising five children on a single pay was never an easy task,

especially in his days,

but he managed

and he got by.

I remember hearing about so many odd jobs he used to work,

like furniture restorer, crane operator, embalmer,

and even more surprising dress upholsterer.

He was a man who would stop at nothing to put food on the table,

and he would do these jobs with his southern wit

and friendly demeanor on full throttle.
An excerpt from a non-fiction piece I wrote about my grandfather; Elby Marcellous Pulliam.

Birth: Jul. 12, 1917
Death: Mar. 12, 1999

Elby Marcellous Pulliam, 81, of Decatur died 1:43 a.m. Friday (March 12, 1999) in Decatur Memorial Hospital.

Mr. Elby was born on July 12, 1917, in Newport, Ark., the son of William and Grace Balch Pulliam. He was a member of the Sunnyside Church of Christ. He formerly owned and operated the Quality Furniture Store in Decatur. He married Roberta Sutherland on Nov. 23, 1947, in Newport, Ark.

Surviving are his wife; sons, Lee Pulliam and wife Diane of Oklahoma City, Okla.; Elby Pulliam Jr. and wife Jo of Smyrna, Ga.; Danny Pulliam and wife Pat of Dalton City; Gary Pulliam of Springfield; daughter, Sandi Pulliam of Decatur; son, Roger Pulliam of Decatur; sister, Joyce Williams of Boliver, Tenn.; 11 grandchildren; four great-grandchildren.

He was preceded in death by his parents, one sister and one brother.

Family links:
Parents:
  Grace Balch Pulliam (1894 - 1966)

Spouse:
  Roberta Pulliam (1928 - 2013)
Aug 2013 · 1.7k
Simon's Bad Day
Vicious collector, violent specter.
Woven and tethered with the leftovers
or a kindergarten nap time rug.
Her motherly instincts overpower
her wit, as the banshees within her shriek
their born again, worn again verse.

Do you want to tie her to a leash?
Do you want to put her in a cage?
Do you want to let her roam the dark,
and forever nightly free her rage?

She's threatened by the markings
of a first-born tortoise shell.
The sounds of rabid children roars
and whipping flagellant tails
marks the arena where the pride lord
got her first taste of sour fear.

Do you want to hold her down?
Do you want to make her stay?
Do you want to lock her in her room,
and never let her run and play?
The fourth day was spent comatose
Mind locked away, matter did play
Dancing the steps of the Ent
Uncaring of anything when the throne was in sight
Earthly pleasures before the storm
This place was struggling to breathe
Mistakes taking shape and walking
The fog is blinding, Oh sweet little pea

The fifth day was a resurrection of sorts
A new man with new power to drink
Arrogance returned with the blind
Taking flight to the coasts of gold
Again those rusty promises plagued
Whether a doll, a tool, or a foolish venture
Truth was an impossible gesture
It's never that easy, Oh sweet little pea

The sixth day was a realization
Rest came easy when the future didn't bark
The treasure was buried in the yard under ash
And the truth was in the homestead
Everywhere at once, the rain trickled
The seeds did more than sprout
Tap roots and accepting - light words
Let the answers find you, Oh sweet little pea
This is the second half of the story. A tale of those I've loved.
Aug 2013 · 1.9k
Sweet Pea pt.1: End of Days
The first day was the longest
Mornings were for ambrosia
Nights were for castor oil
Lying through teeth and tempting through lenses
Purpose lost to the blind men
Who learn to sleep in seclusion
Visited rarely by saints and messiah fathers
Learn through pain, Oh sweet little pea

The second day was all too short
Kindred, but misunderstood
Sowing seeds and ripping up weeds
Parading around town with roaring sorrow royalty
Following scripts and playing parts
For judges, elders, and "renegade" symbols
Promises, popularity; it's all just a rusty mirage
This place isn't for you, Oh sweet little pea

The third day was spent in Dada
Purgatory for insanity
Whimsical, yes, but something was blatantly missing
This place was rich with new color and null
Vibrant, yet lifelessly powered by prescriptions
No real substance, only mist-forms
Bubbling broth in a surreal soup
Don't get digested, Oh sweet little pea
The first half of the story. A tale of those I've loved.
I am a poor boy - A Capricorn
Perpetually saddened by my surroundings
Eight cats have sought me out for sanity's sake
But none of us seem able to escape on our own
All voices silenced for the sake of the rude,
the drunkard has-been, and so many varieties
of dream abandoned lives.
I fail to see any exit, reasoning, or plan.
These are the trials of a wisdom seeker
trapped in a pretty shell - conjuring Hell.

The west side of this city is falling apart and
my house is definitely no exception.
Any wealth left is gained from trading in
talent, hope, and aspiration for meager work
in refineries and plants that pollute
the bloodstream. Causing Decatur
to purposely decay into Lethe and
remove itself from memory and history - suicidal city.
I am just another generation in a long line
of poor romantics who close their eyes to the world.

I must have been born with the wrong last name
and composed of the wrong ingredients.
I may have insight, but no one dares or cares to hear it.
These people have given up on beauty and
have begun the worship of agriculture, but Artemis is no where to be seen.
My world has abandoned appreciation or art
because they have stripped it down to a profitable formula.
This may be a hopeless venture.
They have infected me with their grief.
Let the slumber of the soy city wash over me.
1248
Aug 2013 · 1.3k
Red Phoenix
The first conversation we had
was in seventh grade P.E. class.
It was laced with talks
of our unrealized love of escapism,
and how we had saw each other on the bus.
Mama's boys sure seem to sniff
one another out like lost puppy dogs.
We were clinging for warmth in those hormonal hallways.

You had a dog named Tyler,
and that always made me laugh inside.
So many look-a-like jokes and
misinterpreted commands and calls.
I remember his death and I
remember his absence so well now.
I never know how to console you, but I guess
you didn't really need it. We were both numb.

A numb only the fatherless feel
when they search for a reason with the void.
A loss of confidence and for words
that ushers in those awkward silences.
We should have had a voice to tell us:
"You're remarkable, you know that?"
But instead we got misunderstood glances,
and we had to be that voice for so many others.
For J.P.W.W.
Aug 2013 · 787
Rites
The crumbling husk of a little brown spider
chases after a swatted fly.
Not for a meal to replenish his brittle figure,
but because he envies such a glorious death.
This day is not for the covetous,
nor for the weaver. That eight fingered hand.
This is a day marked for interment by rain.
Both to be washed in Gaea's reshaping womb.

If God made dirt, and dirt don't hurt,
then why do we feed it the dead?
Whether mogul, scholar, radical, or drifter-
in soil we are stripped of semblance and class.
Man, beast, lain down as equals - offerings
to a hungry celestial wanderer.
The soaring nomad, mindlessly migrating.
Circling an eye of fire. Star sailing.

Ashes and dust. Blood and bone.
Thought and memory. Feeling and dream.
Our lives are poured into a basin of stone,
from a pitcher containing the constellations.
Every drop, a cosmic reflection
tethered by a silver cord to the present.
The perspective of heroes and house flies
is separated only by sensation.
"We are made of star stuff."
The house broth trickles onto the plywood floor
Filtered by fiberglass cotton candy
A humid breeze slams the oblong door
and knocks over the table I found so handy

This storm has brought my ceiling down on my head
The rafters are surely next to fall
Thunder sings songs with words never said
That entices the slugs to climb the wall

A deathtrap, a battlefield, a childhood home
have fused to form this cocoon of mold
The flies have settled, no longer to roam
and I'm left for the winds to bend and fold

This leaky old roof that Grandfather built
can barely now stand, let alone shelter strays
But if I leave in the night, I drag only my guilt
My body goes wandering, but my dream world stays
The safety of the black, winding, snake of a trail is like an arrow pointing me home.

I flee from this serpent of tar, for the promise of discovery awaits me at the bottom of the hill.

I’m surrounded on all sides by the Sylvan Queen, her antlered familiars, and her army of trees.

I need only to march east to return to the realm of men and metal, but the woods beckon still.

I blanket myself under the brittle fallen leaves that have felt autumn’s kiss and gravity’s hand.

With hesitance, I find myself starting to give in to Gaea’s soft spell of slumber.

I hear the hymns of the birds in their language true and old.

I see the dreams of the cicadas painted vibrantly in the overcast sky.
Aug 2013 · 867
A Puzzle of Gems
I wish you only knew of the brier we planted

But your eyes are always on the stars

I watch you pluck every note from the air

So vibrant, and eager to pass the jug around

-

Think of me too, Artemis, Baste

As the coals twinkle and turn

These moments have always been yours to burn

And I am but a goat - veiled and masked

-

Home is far, but I have my thoughts

I have my brother of tune

My thanks for the smoke, Sylvan Queen

I only wish your eyes weren’t hidden

-

We were flea-bitten in the first burrow

And found gold in the next

Red cardinal be swift, I carry many gifts

But I just don’t want to be in the middle right now
An eye for an eye was the reason we acted

You’re so far away and I can’t stop the fireworks

Talking the night away, the exhausted second meeting

A sip of ale from the singer in the graveyard

I never wanted to call to the Sun

But every morning I would cave in

I buried myself in an empty room

-

The trips were acidic to my tongue

Beaches filled with trinkets and sands

“Fish swim, forever free” you tell yourself

Now, Pisces, who is the one swimming?

Buried in the sands is what I remember

The other half is lost

-

Am I the one to defeat now?

The words that stained the walls are now sparkling white

Abandoned

“Now close you eyes and sleep” she wrote

I’m somewhere between the ponds and the highway

-        

The mimics and shadows match suit and play their roles

The words do no sting or stick

Tough as leather, from the arrows

That flowed from me like a river

-

This product is finished

Ignition improbable, idiot.

No courage and hardly a motive

-

Triplet years

Falling backwards

-

My head is buried
Aug 2013 · 482
Lady of the Sky
Those vulpine eyes

and crooked smile

could hold my thoughts steady.

The sky is missing a maiden,

and the sea is missing its robe,

but sheltered are you,

in the mists and tears of

a time when I was loved
Aug 2013 · 735
Turn Around
There is a demon behind you

I would never tell you a lie

He’ll tear your heart from your body

If you look him in the eye

He’s a hungry and quiet killer

And tonight he feels great joy

He doesn’t get to eat that many

Attractive girls and boys

You summoned him up by reading these words

I’m sorry I waited to say

This demon and I work hard ever still

To live off of a writer’s pay

I lay the traps and he gets to eat

And in return I receive

Thirty pieces of silver,

And a wardrobe you wouldn’t believe
Aug 2013 · 856
Magic
Melancholy miracles mask my madness
An altered air arises
Gilded, glowing, globes glide, guarding garish Gods
I illustrate illegitimate integrity in incarnadine
Corporeal creations cast crimson
Aug 2013 · 700
Odium pt.3: Hivemind
I offer my eternal homage

To the conflagration of spheres and jaws

For too long you’ve been sealed from my realm

By fear and by ancient laws

-

With this offering of flawless life

I grant you passage into my plane

Let this earthly shell be your tool

I give my blood, my soul, and my brain

-

Oh, great lurker at the threshold

Let your will be known

So omnipresent, so perfect, all knowing

May all power be yours to hone

-

The all-in-one shall again return

To bleed the universe dry

With the knowledge of the rift intact

Your feeble race and all others will die
Aug 2013 · 517
Odium pt.2: Void-God
On this day I rise to the astral plane and break open the void

The strange matter leaks forth from space and takes an unspeakable form

-

My portal grows so rapidly

With the power of the stars combined

Spilling forth the ancient ooze

That for eons has been confined

-

Such power above comprehension

A conjuration beyond human mind

This plague springs from the cosmos

Leaving only emptiness behind

-

The space in between dimensions

Belches out the element of old

Overtaking all terrestrial matter

So precise, unthinking, and cold
Aug 2013 · 626
Odium pt.1: Brood Mother
On the index of existence my name is erased

I am forgotten in the eyes of your lord

My name can’t be uttered by your human tongue

I am the vessel in which fear is poured

-

I sit on my throne of nothing

I wait for my time to return

By sin or by fire, I’ll wipe the slates clean

In my name all the worlds will burn

-

I gorge my belly on the runes of the past

I drink from the fountain of tears

My right hand contains the power of malice

My left hand holds the darkness to awaken your fears

-

I sit on my throne of nothing

My wrath is mighty and old

By hate or by suffering, I’ll wipe the slates clean

In my name the stars will grow cold
Aug 2013 · 571
Midwestern Arms
The threads of nostalgia bind me to this patchwork blanket
of soy farms and swamp land horizons.
This region has birthed me from her soil,
and in Midwestern arms I am sheltered.
Throw me to the ground
I want rise up like a sprout in the fresh rain
and breathe the same air that you do
I want to shed this skin and know that I’m finally alive again
and not some brittle nymph shell
Forget everything and let’s rewrite it all
summer spring life love hope happiness childhood puppy
Chance is a flippant mistress

Yet, she has blessed me with vision

Eyes to rebind the seams

Of two souls victim to division

I see her coming through the fog

With lips that could speak words past the grave

I see her march to the rhythms

Of the winds, the earth, and the waves
Aug 2013 · 973
Spring Never Came
I’m nothing but a monolith of ice and gravel.

Stuck in these wintry doldrums.

Waiting, waiting for the time

when the birds return home and

Sol’s warm light puts life back in these bones of permafrost.

It is then she’ll come dancing and singing

like the days when we were young.
Next page