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I wish to write my poetry,
in yesterday's words,
that unrequited poetry,
lost in time.

I wish to reawaken
days long gone,
days of unquenchable laughter,
unborn nostalgia.

I wish to lay my eyes on the sea again,
in my turmoil, its garden of dimming lights,
and always rise in the hours
whence I was once a child.

Metz, France, 2018
Translation from Spanish: Carl Tanne
Poetry Book Titled: Amsterdam
Viens ! - une flûte invisible
Soupire dans les vergers. -
La chanson la plus paisible
Est la chanson des bergers.

Le vent ride, sous l'yeuse,
Le sombre miroir des eaux. -
La chanson la plus joyeuse
Est la chanson des oiseaux.

Que nul soin ne te tourmente.
Aimons-nous ! aimons toujours ! -
La chanson la plus charmante
Est la chanson des amours.

Les Metz, août 183...
Rob Metz Oct 2018
Time, the presence of an ending, continuously beginning.
Always turning over as the ticks become louder with,
Time, it’s unstoppable, untouchable, undeniably wasting away.
Cherishing moments, the recollection of fears, the reminder of yesterday.

Only with time will bring the answer to why,
Forgetting the essence of what’s left behind.
Reminding and questioning everything in sight,
How will your time add up at the end of the night?

Calling your name are the obstacles in the way,
Embrace your tragedy like all your past mistakes.
Place your fears so near, never let them slip away,
Fall into wrongful hands, time slips from minutes to days.

Look over the deserts that contain the sands of time,
Is it a barren wasteland? Or fruitfully inclined?
Preparation for the unexpected, or relish in gems of present moments,
A moment in time passes like blinks to the eye, for that is constant.

Only with your time will give a reason to my why,
A handful of mistakes but leaving it all behind.
Reminding me constantly with you in my sight,
How time has added up at the end of the night…

©️Rob Metz
Rob Metz Oct 2018
A rarity for thought as the sun beams down,
The shadows that work from all angles.
Mindlessly connected, us and them.
The static is the surrounding noise, opening cue,
We remain assured we are alone.
The raised goosebumps, innocent whim.

She stares into the sea of stars, as the darkness sweeps through her mind.
Little does she know she’s not alone.
Watching with calculated movements now.
They lie in the dark undetected, they know her every move.
Waiting, they never stop waiting.

She recollects and fixates on her worries,
The monster growing with every doubt.
Salivating from the fear, the shadow will wait,
Eyes feasting, inching closer in the dark.
Her walls crumbling,

She paces, her mind races, tormented by her past,
Make it go away with self inflicted rage.
It’s temporary relief for the mind to be at ease,
But the shadows bring out all the fears.
Fear dwelling in the twilight of the night...

Advances little by little throughout the night,
She suddenly feels the goosebumps.
It’s her mind playing tricks at her expense.
The floor creaks, breaking silence deep within.
She lifts in a panic, nobody there...

Ghost sounds fill her imagination, what could they be?
She looks at the lamp, inching closer to bring light.
She twists the ****, light bursts instantaneously.
And there it was, staring back hungrily.
A feast for the eyes beholding…

She screams in terror, the jaws of the shadows locked,
Crawling desperately, escaping a relentless grasp.
Damaged and torn she is, the shadow waits once again,
The poison of the darkness seeping in.
Growing it is, knowing it is not…

She pleads for help but her mouth can no longer project,
Her silence grows and what dies is her intellect.
She lays and waits as the sun soon comes to rise,
As the shadow that loomed now becomes her demise.
The static of silence returns as the darkness hides.

©️Rob Metz
Rob Metz Oct 2018
Dear Dad,

I’m sorry things ended up this way, I know this must be hard,
Why I abandoned you when you lacked to do your part.
Yeah, I don’t think of it as abandonment, I look at it as moving on,
I tried to relate my situation back to every other sad song.
But I got lost in the progress, waiting around for you to come around,
But then I found that wasn’t aloud, and when it came to me and your friends “I became the crowd..”
I guess I just never realized it until now..

Dear Dad,

Yeah I ignored the texts and calls, I just don’t know what to say,
The only thing you cared about was how your friends felt anyway.
Using my child and me to showcase, hiding your controversies,
Show off our attributes while yours are becoming questioning.
I guess I had a misconception of the direction you wanted to take things,
But the thing that always remained constant was the pain you could bring.
I just wished you knew you were my everything when I felt I had nothing,..

Dear Dad,

I looked up to you and thought you were Superman,
I was your biggest fan, i cherish every moment the best that I can.
The talks we had while jamming Metallica in your guitar room,
I thought we had something special, never thought it would end, who would have knew?
I just wish you knew how bad it hurt to put up these walls in your view,
But no matter how bad you’ve hurt me, I will still always love you.
I just wish you could see it that way too…

Dear Dad,

I’m sorry I don’t want to be part of the party,
I just wish you could have been around rather than say “I’m sorry.”
I’m there for my kid in a heartbeat, I see right through the excuses in you,
“I could have been there and been the greatest Dad too…” is that true?
Guess you can’t live your life without someone telling you what to do,
Let your vision become a revision, staring at cloudy mirrors like they’re see through.
But none of that is going to see through to you…

Dear Dad,

I’m a grown man now with kids of my own,
Learned to live life while you left me alone.
I know the past is an overcast straight to my bones,
But life is like musical preference, I need to find the right tone.
So now I’ve shown how distance can play a massive part,
But distance means nothing, you’ve shown that from the start.
This is why I need to leave behind this damage of the heart… from my dear Dad.

©️Rob Metz
Rob Metz Oct 2018
The waves crash as my mind slips into the sea,
Far from the shore, but just above sinking.
Floating with the current, navigation without a guide,
Staring at terrors below, where do I flee to hide?

The progress of stalemate has lead only to one direction,
A past of misfortunes claiming coherent connections.
Lack of preparation, the sails of direction torn,
The depth of the situation, the monster status reborn.

Take me away, the reprisal of fear is overwhelming,
Fight, flight, or freeze. Demand for action as emotions overselling.
But it’s all compelling, beauty above as hell is below,
The sharks that lurk to devour all aspects of the ego.

Tearing at the flesh are the ones you thought you knew best,
But enemies hide in plain sight, they just know when to manifest.
Now surrounded by the fears that seems to haunt the memories,
Staring into the endless sea of the vacant possibilities.

©️Rob Metz
Rob Metz Oct 2018
Let these words be a time capsule for the next generation,
Where this digital age has created slaves to all nations.
“No taxation without representation”, those days have gone by,
Slaves with chains has changed to teens circling the digital mind hive.

We choose to live blind from the issues that bind and intertwine in societies eye,
It only multiplies our cowardice everytime we try to transcribe all these cookie cutter lines.
It seems to me that being original is almost criminal, let’s try to keep it minimal,
But we know it’s subliminal how pitiful it is to ridicule being original, easier to be fictional.

Tell me something that’s real about how anything makes you feel the way you do,
Don’t be so scared to care in determining what’s fair because it matters to me too.
Keep an open mind to different philosophies because we are constantly changing our well being you see,
But no matter what just stick to your gut, trust is a two way street and accidents happen when handled improperly.

There is no living free when you can’t do you and me do me,
And society wants to go backwards like we can live in 1950.
It’s kind of funny when it’s put like that cause all the questions then are now known as facts,
Only cause we had the mindset to question and create rebellion cause change doesn’t come sitting on your ***.

Start a Twitter war, show off your likes, let the narcissism roar,
Be the king of the internet jungle, hide in the shadows looking for more.
There is no need to show face when you’re standing behind this digital mask,
Reinforce the ideas to make false ideals, keep only opinions as the main facts.

©️Rob Metz
Rob Metz Oct 2018
The Beauty

Her heart aches for the need to be needed,
Her completion comes through fulfilling others.
Living her destiny as if it were a distant memory,
Just waiting for the weight to topple her over.
Grasping what is and isn't.

Time is wasting us away, the same routine day by day.
Now that we're drifting away, you pull me in that much closer.
You can't let me go because I need you to need me,
I can bring out your change as long as I choose to stay, believing.
Holding on for one more chance.

You keep chasing away those butterflies I once had,
Can't stop thinking about all the time that has passed.
Can you look me in the eyes and say what's on your mind?
Or do I keep guessing and see the real you like I'm blind?
The only price to pay is my peace of mind.

The Beast

Inner reflections, oversee the depravity.
The haunting memory of what used to be.
The decay of values, image perfect for the lie.
The timeless memory, a crafted jaded design.
So we are left broken.

The beast devours but is never full..
Again and again it feeds on the weak.
Pray for prey to insure the hunt,
Conquer your field of dreams.
The hunger never sleeps.

The surprises of decisions half thought,
Acting out our schemes to fill these roles.
Just tell me what you want me to be,
Knowing myself has become the unknown.
Fill the role.

So desperate to communicate, yet begging to disappear.
Your words are salvation, the reassurance from my fears.
Carry this burden in order to set me free,
Carry my curse, the reflections of depravity.
The reflections passed on.

©️Rob Metz
Rob Metz Oct 2018
I just want to love in the end… Love you until the end… Create a destiny alongside my greatest friend… until the end…

But villains don’t get happy endings…

I hate myself for all the mistakes and how they have shown my life to be representing.
But it’s still me, and my mistakes are not what distinguishes me profoundly you see.
I fear many things… but what I fear most is not having the courage to hold back from how my emotions react…
All I ever dream about is having just one more moment to stare at the dreams in her eyes,
But the dreams were drowned with lies and replaced with tears and the throat filled with whys..
I guess it was all the questions I despised, to uncover and discover and realize,
I’m not perfect in any shape or form and I will say it well over a thousand times.

I am broken… But not unfixable.

©️Rob Metz
Johnny Noiπ Oct 2018
Council Harvard Philip Metz children. Be careful.
Frank Frank is not good.       Decisions are elderly.
However, it is widely used in Oracle Tsui. Charles,         Charles -
vitamins and some deaths. Vitamins, minerals, vitamins,
and you are dead. The use of women and the gift of life and death.
This is a great gift. In fact, "No, unless you do not leave
                                             coffee products,
etc ... 965 / Hills (5) cold, Chárvarnt Philip
yells at 3 months; he has created,
which is subject to the execution
of the terrorist crisis".
"Carol Carol Tsui, the 'words' a matter of form
       that is the threat of terrorism." After the infection,
                                                        the Mega musician.
GALA on the eighth day of the eighth competes
                                          in three Synchimaima
great Kicikike Kaichou,                                  
Elli Ithan Emmons Bea
... ina  tënk in Beverly hills,         founder of the temple of king Solomon's
Metz building and does not ignore
Oracle Tsui Philip to Staffordshire.   "Mark Harvard hit him,
said one of the vitamins he died. vitamins: vitamins, organic,
I came and said" O God, my God,        that others do not see,    
so much to God, and the gift of life and of death.
                 "Where are you" and few in the world.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
the tyrd tier of tinking: and tinkering:
soil! sailor! tailor! sire! speer!
the 'ird tomme: of.. off' of
'n' effer: f-f-f'ing
contra "t"-ing...
   the tarded: dart und
darting... Fear the Dubliner ****!

told us it was all about
the buck mc abstainin'
loss of tooth
to speak... easy: IRA...

lord fudge... crapper sentenced to:
that bomb coming from
a shoe-shine... we could almost
wish... this new shakespeare
from the lodging of...
for all the love of shakespeare...

what is... auld lang syne?!
smokies... sung... sang and tatties!
bittersweet loved up crease!

afraid of "us"... U2 soon pops
up closure for leisure...
i am the love thast never become
the sing-along for the worth of...
    
this disglorified:
woman of a lost dublin...
      sacred mow tow and tie..

my: freckled..
fritz... mummy: be...
mommy best...
ralph fiennes...
         amon göth...
                     and all that is /
was ever to be required...
limbo fashioned and a somewhat
soaking up of "talk"...
  
scrutiny of the absolved
"work"...
i better scoff at:
chance and... gamble...
you are me...
better made witness of...
the loitering "bleach"...
better start calling 'im:
bleachboys crescendo!
the mecca-boys the
cupsid copper-necks!
my skins my all borne forth born...
skittle rage and grief born...
born freed from
the shackles of a ****!
mother daughter or the harem!

before one **** is ready...
the next ****** will be readied
for the next anarchist crescedo!
of: glory be to: burn the tire the rubber
turn the ****** the...
      also called a ***** and a shrimp ****
wink-wink: all insinuation...
shame for all the people grativitating
toward racially charged sensibilities
of heart and offence...

me whitey yoyo... when
the ***** sunks a lemon
and you're... along with me...
the bright and lost...
concept of a digestive biscuit?
  *******...val kilmer and...
       pity the blond... spoon-fed soul...
clown bored: bearing... nicole kidman..
            
because the concern for jihad...
once upon a time... was...
the **** of violence of the Bataclan...
was... eating the testickles of
infadels...
a whittle virus: beijing made...
scared... these... originals...
these god-fearing folk...
into: nostalgia...
into a secular understanding
of the world?

                        well... they better be arab...
saudi... not iraqi... yemen oud...
iranian...
      they best be kept saudi...
and best keep them...
barricading the
   tiananmen sq massacre hardons...
like... Eddie Edams'...
bullet to the head...
"contra"... thich quang duc -
whoever was being crucified...
wasn't... by any chance...
also made subject... to... the blood-eagle?
a scalping: just in case:
he should be seen donning a kippah?
was... he's?!

bruise welsh read: fwesh: and red...
ripe... teasing crude pink...
and salmon and *******...
a rainbow trout: rainbow and crevices
of tailor: and abortions for
the tonne load of jerking out...
yugoslav conundrums...
                          genocides...
callz 'em... what doz' 'un callz em...
"janissary" / "mamluk"?
caviate if not... caviar!
          
skin read: with a dipping into
mayonnaise...
some mustard after the grand feast
of worth for the worth of the day!
and i to will come...
like a dog whistled to come
to a return...
                
   an image to burn into my mind:
the owczarek kaukaski -
the caucasian shepherd dog...
big ******* wolves wiz onz
metz.
copernican bluffs...
     corpus "christi" of stalingrad...
   it could almost seem the same...
when one were to be fed...
the same hungry **** on **** warfare...
tsarina victoria contra...
  of england...
                 the oops-and-circumstance
of a parisian midwife...
so much for no ***** no ******...
and somehow...
the sigma of man... "preserved"...
yeah... like **** it will be...
better pray for the ****-gang-up
of the litany of the monghol khan!

      no!
niet! nie!
             nein!
Johnny Noiπ Mar 2019
Francois, surely the documents were born *****.
While some researchers put the day in 1483,
was probably born in November 1494 in Chinon,
in the province of Turin, where his father worked
as a lawyer. Today, only Loire's land is produced
as a writer, including the Museum of the Revolution.
Rabello is a novice of the Franciscans and then
a monk in Fontaine-la-Comte in Poitou,
where the Greeks and the Latins did it, as well
as the knowledge of literature and law, to have
a good report about his goodness. It is already
known that at the same time he includes Johannes
Alba, 1467-1540. He was upset about getting
weapons against the law and against minors
by forbidding the teaching of Greek. Erasmus
translates the voice of the Gospel according
to Luke.11 Ravel approached Pope Clement 7
1523-1534 and allowed him to leave the office,
the Benedictine Minor Temple,
to enter the Maileazis of Poitou, More.


Mets, the honest family. After leaving
the monastery to study medicine at the University
of Montpellier. In Lyons, in 1532 and at one
of the Renaissance spiritual centers, he began
working as a physician at the 1534 hospital in Lyon,
for which he acquired 40,000 baths a year.
So far, an outstanding job for Sebastian in the Lyon
maze and a letter written in Latin, Erasmus reads
a Greek manuscript to bring it to the printer.
Hippocrates and the translations and comments
published by Mark Cornelius Manardo, Rafael.
As a doctor, takes the time to write and publish
comic booklets, verify strength and deal
with the educational and monistic views of that time.

In 1532, under the pseudonym of the nasal empire,
Francois Rambelas was born Alfofribe, published his first book,
Pantagruel King Dips, the first series of Gargantua.
The lives of the Talking Agar read by the Kings
were introduced to the donation after they were transferred
to the Gregantua nations and sold in the form
of stamps and marketing brochures Colts: 13 Pantagralismus
to "Eat, Drink and Be Happy", Philosophy of Injury Books
the church led him to the same popular success he brought later,
with surprise visitors focused on the body.

In this first book, the monks and the crisis system
of education, the existing things that contain them
show that the French words encyclopedia, bases
and utopias are moving in the direction of the principal,
among others. Despite the popularity of the book
and the first book (1534) in which life and business
is the father Gergantua Pantagrual and the Roman
Catholic Church in 1545 by Guillaume Postal 111-115
in 1537, with Portland, New York Hotel- Dieu by the body
Adam Razzele: : 17 Etienne Dolet and the smell
of humor tend to be close this time, he wrote about
the anatomy lessons in his poem: 247 in June 1543
Ravelli's Apps of Gentlemen.

From 1545 to 1547, Francois Rabelais,
who lives in Metz, then a free state,
is the imperial city to escape the condemnation
of the University of Paris. In 1547 the temple
was rebuilt in Maine Jambat du Saint-Christophe
Bodon, in the neighborhood of Paris,
where he resigned in January 1553,
before his death in Paris in April 1553. ***- xxi

And what is the help of the prominent families
of Boulay, the collection of the ramp by King Francis,
the ability to insist is that he can give the approval
of the books. However, following the death of the King
in 1547 and the Academy for the Breaking of Molds,
the academy and the French elections were suspended
in a book published in Le quart livre 1552.** Ravelli,
who sold his friends to Rome with the cardinal.
Jean du Bligh, London. 1540 - the brother of the family
when Du Bly of the party, Guillaume. Rabbell had spent
some time looking for his security, it is the most humble
way to rely on the period of several complaints about the
protest of his protectors. After conviction until
the Sorbonne's new protective dirt is protected. *

XXXXX "Gregentius" and "Pantgrual" Edit Gregentius
and Pantagrual Illustration of Gregentius and Pantgruel
by Gustave Dore. Gregantua representing Pantgruel
by Gustave Dore. Gargantua and Pantagruel
tell the adventures of Gargantua and his son Pantagruel.
It has many stories that are adventurous,
first wonderful snakes, fish, and rarely, though long.
The first book times the prologue Gargantua
and Pantagruel.

— The End —