"calloced" poems
Listen
Can you hear it?
Through the calloced,
Burned eyes
Of the carcass.
The flame
Thrown unto them
Like a ball.
Caught
With deadly force,
They fall.
Cooked
On the earths grill
Of hot ground,
And plants
Light up
Like burners.
The melting tears
Of a childhood home
Kills their history.
No mark left
To signify they lived,
Even for a moment,
On this planet.
Can you hear it?
The dogs screaming bark,
The crackling cackle
Of a fire ruthless?
Burning anything it touches
Including itself.
As it’s a destroyer,
It’s dug it’s own grave.
Just as any carnivore,
Or herbivore
Takes life just to die.
Just as plants
Take nutrients
From the dead,
So they die.
It’s all a cycle
Of death and decay,
The melting eyes
Bring sight
To the living.
We take knowledge
From the minds
Of the old,
They pass
For the sake
Of your mind.
We bleed on the inside,
Our heart gives us this,
A blood flow
That’s so beautiful from the outside,
But so necessary inside.
Our heart kills itself,
Bleeds out,
For us.
So one must question,
How much have I destroyed,
How much have I taken?
Do I deserve this,
When all I’ve done
Is taken form others lives?
The answer depends,
On how you’re spending
Your life,
Have you used it in honor
Of those you’ve taken
Life from?
Or have you slain
And brutalized.
Given pain
For your own dishonor?
Martyred yourself,
For the world
Is too much for you
To bear.
Remember those who care,
Remember the life you can give
If only you try to.
Be careful what you give
To the world,
For it will come back to you.
With a heart of vengeance,
Wrath
Mar 4, 2020
Mar 4, 2020 at 6:00 PM UTC
As a young child, I lived in fear
Fear of the unknown, the chaotic
My mind perceived shadows
As monsters of my subconscious
The creaks of the house settling
Rustling in the bushes
Rose thorns scratching
Against the window
Like little gremlins whispering
"Let me in, let me in!"
Even the pitter patter of rain
Was like the cries of the
Abandoned children clawing
The house, tearing it apart,
Almost as if their small,
Calloced fingers ripped
Apart my mind, drowning me
In guilt, the dirt of my short but
Horrid past under their fingernails
The same nails that tear through
My skin as their fingers wrap around
My throat, leaving me gasping for a breath
Allowing me just enough air to wallow over
My own demons and dread the future
But then something clicked in my mind
I no longer feared the gremlins
Or abandoned children
I acceptthem with open arms,
Listening to their tales of terror,
And discover I, too,was just like them
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
I remember when the grass and trees had all showed me their face..
the moon had snarled as if it came from some far away edo place.
I adored it
Nature i explored it
Finding that the soul of everything had been distorted...
By man,
his hungry calloced hands.
Raking in the money...
Breaking in the land.
Smacking mother nature,
her kids forced to disband.
I wish i could've saved them
I wish i had the chance..
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 7:49 AM UTC