Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Infamous one Feb 2013
Head up escape judging eyes
They see the change
Try to make you back
There's no going back
The person before no longer here
Take your naive ways else where
Not the same how you precieved
Evaluate yourself before criticizing others
Love one another not coming between us
The life you live nothing to offer
Let it be known
you can't bring me down with you
Not the same don't you get the clue
NDHK Sep 2012
The tasteless, faceless wind

at morning,

brushes away my waking

mourning of dreams still

lingering,

getting settled behind

the place inside of me

I keep open for

the changing road of life

has no value when it's cast out

to a sea of precieved desire

bold and usurping

the unconscious impulse

to speak a word, picture a place

when it all comes

again wait until the nightfall blankets

you can't fly with your shoes

on the ground

is a safe home

for the nameless breeze is to

bring it again.


*© NDHK
Alex McQuate Mar 2022
The fire is crackling,
Head slightly spinning,
The world is quiet as I write,
Zevon keeps me company tonight,
Thinking thoughts of you.

It's hard to believe you've been gone for three months already,
Three months since your sister broke the news.

Perhaps I held off writing this,
Thinking that not doing so kept some part of you alive,
That my simple denials were all it took to keep you with us.

Perhaps it was after that the anger,
Rage at what you'd done,
Bitter at the precieved betrayal,
That if anyone were to kick off this mortal coil first it was gonna be me.

Maybe it was that I was holding out hope that if I didn't write this you would just appear one day, and as long as I didn't you would say.

It might have been I was just too tired.

I remember when we first met,
I thought you as nobody more than some silly kid from Staten Island,
With dreams and delusions bigger than your stomach,
But you won me over with corny jokes and high spirits,
Whether it be because of the ****** weather,
Or when my Grandmother died.

The tears come now,
On this chilly March morn,
As I think back, to 3 months ago.

I hadn't seen your family in years,
The ones who considered me like a second son and brother,
Fearing they would hate me,
For what I wasn't quite sure,
That I hadn't done more,
That we hadn't spoke to one another in so long?
I certainly hated myself,
Driving through those Pennsylvania Wilds.

I remember the last time we spoke,
Relaxing in your familial home,
You embraced me and told me to be careful,
Telling me you loved me in your own words,
And I told you in my own words too.
God I ******* miss you.

Zevon plays on,
The tears come faster still,
The screen is blurry as I type,
Warren's words echo what I imagine yours would be.

You were a poet,
A warrior,
A brother,
My friend.

Confidant,
Motivator,
Philosopher,
My friend.

When we took you to the cemetery,
I was right there at your side,
Carrying you to where you would forever rest,
Before they sealed you in I snuck my pin into your hands,
I was afraid you'd forget me.

I was the first to leave the building,
So I could sneak around a corner and shatter.
The brave face I held for your family impossible to maintain,
I suspect your family knew,
But it was the way I was raised.

After I left for home,
About halfway I broke down again,
This time on a cliffside vista,
The landscape mostly obscured by the driving snowstorm and evening gloom.

The rest of the way I played your favorite tunes, and sang along as badly as you use to.

I miss you Mike,
And I know I will never completely understand,
But you will always be with me,
Upon my arm and in my heart,
Watching my back through all my stupid ideas.

Warren's song has ended,
The fire died down to glowing embers,
Tears dried and eyes aching,
Tiredness dragging at my bones.

But I'll heed his words, Mike,
I'll keep you in my heart for a while,
Alongside all the others.

After all,
He never said how short "a while" had to be
Warren Zevon-Keep me in your heart

If you need help, you're never alone
D I A Mar 2015
Life is best precieved
Not in death
But in the dying...
The leaves falling
Rather than the branches bare
The dew freezing
Rather than the frost
Coated in snow
The cool winds crisp yet damp
Rather than frost-bitten.

Life is best painted
On the the tapestry of dying
Than the portrait of a barren land
After the wake of death
Two sides of the same mask
A kiss to eternity
Or the end.

Observe
The rising of ice
The dying of season
The coming of slumber...
Time moving backwards.
Shadow Wolf May 2017
Going on forever
unreachable
continuous
never-ending
a concept
precieved to exist
yet never known how large
presumed to be a solution
but never known how far must be traveled

— The End —