Poetry/Lyrics

Arts, creative writing, love, memorial, poetry, psychology, recovery

I Seen My Body Today

I see my body today,

Crisp in tux laid down in grave,

People praying lost in a haze, lamenting in deep dismay,

Preacher praying for better days.

I felt my body today,

Smooth and cold, no breath to breathe

Eyes wide shut, no longer bereaved

On my way, the lord let me leave.

I felt my heart today,

Love once felt when you were near,

When you went I cried my tears,

To be in your place, was my deepest cheer.

I heard my voice today,

Recordings of us singing, birthday wishes and holiday joy,

Memories of you lost, used to fill the void.

Mistletoe kissing, unwrapping gifts with the girls and boys.

I saw my soul today,

Angels held my hands, as I drifted away,

My last breath was back, with tears on my face,

I do want to see you, yet just not to day.

I felt my body today,

A miracle happen, I can move my limbs,

I feel the hugs, of family and friends,

The pill did not take me, God brought me back again.

I read your diary today,

You told me to be happy, and not to throw my life away,

I smiled at the thought, of how you always know me,

I can live with your memory, until it’s truly my day.

I heard your prayer today,

You brought me back, from my disparity,

Foolish was I, to rush to your grave,

I placed this rose on your chest, for thanks of protecting me.

When I saw my body that day,

At that time, I didn’t know that you were watching over me.

 

Arts, creative writing, Fantasy, poetry

Deception

Dragon breathe in strengthened skin, magic purest from the soul within,

Deep blue Scales of ice tie claws of sin, heart rant pain from furtive gin.

Bone of steel holds blood of iron, demon’s curse keeps fire held by andiron,

Thy beast of depth not seen by eye, yet spirit felt shall make infants cry.

Caged in the tomb chain by prayers, in idol wait for sworn slayer,

Screams of fallen whom taxed and failed, by merely a glance or sound in air.

Here comes woman as knight with arm bared, with beauty mind beneath silver hair,

Asked by the town to extinguish foe, for jewels and riches like river flow.

Yet she says not to coins and jewels with hidden pride, yet for love and revenge shall she ride,

In to the dark where fate is unknown, yet a book from thy cave will be her atone.

Secret texts which depths she knows of her own, foolish residents know not thy precious tome,

Yet she’ll be the one who defeats the beast, then pluck from its maw this tasty feast.

The knowledge she’s searched for, sense the day of pain she thought was at death’s door,

The cursed gin who took her son, and trapped him in this cage out the sun.

Through the forests she slinks, like the mythological sphinx,

In to the mountain she creeps, quiet as the serpent’s sneak.

Yet the silence is for not, for the beast has quickly caught,

The fragrance of his loved one, who he was told he had lost.

Here is the Knight of beauty versus the beast of the land, tricked by the devils malevolent hand,

Will we ever not fall victim, to the words and deceptions of other men?

Arts, creative writing, equality, poetry, psychology, social problems, sociology

Hidden Minds

A wide open window yet with everlasting blinds, a faint trace of light locked in the veiled mind,

Darkness dances with dirt lost in time, whilst regrets bathe clean hopeful thoughts for the divine.

Those secrets locked behind private lips, avoiding purest notions of demonic decline,

Close doors hide truths, confused lives cannot yet define.

Yet empowered is the one who will rise amongst the rest, clothed in the armor of pride not stressed,

By opinions of others who tare self-esteem with their edges of jest, sharpen by what they think is best.

Because at the end of this path is a golden crest, if one soldier cannot but chance the quest,

To bring secrets of some to the front of the nest, and face suicidal assaults with just merely a vest.

For this world has jewels in hands of fools, with closed minds too focused on olden rules,

Equipped with religious tools and social pools, one would not splash within for fear of ghouls.

That tell them designs birthed in the past, when vestiges of bones breathed life not gas,

Will we ever be free from that religious mask, that hides behind untouchable glass?

Monopolizing the principles of nations and countries, throughout loved ones and friends,

Who live by deified customs, engraved deep in women and men?

Panicking innocent citizens, who just want to be free again?

And not be judged by their poverty or sexuality, nor the color of their skin…

addiction, creative writing, Life skills, poetry, psychology, recovery, sociology

Murderous Trinities

It is the murderous trinities of sex, drugs, and Hennessy, that in born enemy turning friends to frenemies

Yet we still have the tendency to live with the penalty, life torn calamity in pleasurable insanity.

Yet it’s the toxic necessity taking longevity, the fantasy calling you away from humanity,

The purest of souls can fall in to insanity, forsaking all ties for this new found family.

They run the streets insane for a flask in the brain, or a shot to the arm for a smile forlorn,

Or for One bottle of pain to dry the mind in rain, or in the needle in their arms to patch a heart just torn.

Seeking that solace in a self-guarded palace, with the poison in your chalice to hide from malice,

Yet found departed unaware in a household stair, dabbing away tears of a future unclear.

It’s Corruption that turns the malevolent soul, when our faith and hopes are ice cold,

Heart now gone black mold, these poetic lyrics will become illustrations of that searing soul.

Speak truth from these pens in hopes pain does end, for the trinity that lends aid in these last moments.

We can Just Hope our words lead them from the dark, when they hear those immoral horn men.

Because they hear their footsteps crepitating, weak spirits start anticipating,

That this action may free them far from that pain that lies in them ventilating.

The compulsion playing with durability, that fantasy calling one away from the family,

An innate calamity deep in medicated insanity, hung on elements against humanity.

Christian appendix added to a faithful witness, savior’s voices could become lost after a jail sentence,

Can repentance be found in faithful defense, when religious factions have no moral sense?

They are all in slaved, and shall always be slaved,

When narcotics breathe madness in to souls of self-doubt.

These streets bleed attics and decrepit beings, animal and human alike,

Pharmaceutical scandals scar your beautiful child, hooking lustful emissions from their life.

The innocent victims of life battle a sky felt, but not seen or heard through demented trinities,

The purest joys of drugs, alcohol, and finance, dance with songs of lust, pain, and anxiety.

Division is supremacy if one severs and devours, serrate the mind to segregate the power,

Keep them hoping and rebelling for a star that they see, but will always be grounded by gravity.

It is an ugly truth, that people wish to turn blind to not see,

That those pleasures found in fun, can also be murderous trinities.

Arts, creative writing, Life skills, poetry, psychology, sociology

Maybe I just Drink to Get Drunk

Maybe I just drink, drink, drink til I’m drunk,

Then I have no emotions, I’ll say what she wants,

If I have a problem, I’ll just leave it undone,

because maybe I just want  to drink drink drink to have fun.

 

It started in a dark curtained hotel room, or maybe at the bar with a glass of wine,

She asked how I was, and I told her quite fine,

She reached and touch my shoulder, or was that me,

She bought me a shot, I thought it was sympathy.

 

We started talking politics, and she sounded like me,

Her voice told of struggles deep, that I couldn’t see,

I want to relate, yet my mind’s in a bind,

I can only think of gripping her behind?

 

Maybe I just drink, drink, drink til I’m drunk,

Then I have no emotions, I’ll do what I want,

If I have a problem, I’ll just leave it undone,

because maybe I just want  to drink drink drink to have fun.

 

We stepped outside the bar, or was it a van,

I got real excited, because she was holding my hand,

She took me to a doorway, and I just walked on through,

She sat me on the couch, or maybe she threw?

 

Doc I know I’m rambling, yet hears the sad truth,

I have know idea of what, she wanted to do,

In a haze lost, without a plan,

She started reaching for my clothes, I knocked away her hand.

 

Maybe I just drink, drink, drink til I’m drunk,

Then I have no emotions, I’ll do what she wants,

If I have a problem, I’ll just leave it undone,

because maybe I just want  to drink drink drink to have fun.

 

I’m supposed to be a man, I’ve hidden my feelings inside,

Yet here’s the honest truth doc, at night I still cry,

Anxiety has me raddled, a depression so deep it flows out my eyes,

If I tell my family, and they leave I will die.

 

So Maybe I just drink, drink, drink til I’m drunk,

Then I have no emotions, I’ll speak to no one,

If I have a problem, I’ll just leave it undone,

because maybe I just want  to drink, drink, drink just to run.

 

Arts, Life skills, poetry, politics

Social Ghost

Social slavery are one’s to be, one trapped in a social media mentality,

With Hopes to see the next viral calamity, and get high off of negative psychology.

Group think sociology blocks one’s decency, Just for personal credibility,

To give words from enemies, or love from virtual personalities.

Controversy from apparition’s posts, are social gangstas with word boasts,

Digitally cybernetic ammo hosts, with clout from other lesser known ghost.

Verbal chat warrior quotes, are  just cyber bullies looking to do the most,

And watch you sink mentaly, on a computer generated coast.

that delusionary ocean grave, is one’s own dungeon enchained made,

because we must fasten our minds slaved, in to this social media cave.

Can one be demoralize from a wraith, not hear in a physical space,

Just ask the child dead by digital cuts, arms bloody, neck tied from a virtual haze.

That suicidal teen on the outside of social means,

a bright minded gleam, extinguished by socially evocative keens.

These social slaves put the guns in their mouths, And the pills in their hands,

And smile to their peer pressure clan, not caring for the damage caused to their fellow man.

By man I mean child, killed by social media bile,

From once called friend, yet now heart darkened by differing social styles.

They are just long faded memories, who are we to listen to passed graves,

My social media is popping, I can get 5 likes for showing an addics dejected days.

One needs the recognition, and craves that attention high,

No matter if one is in preschool, or even a president online.

poetry, politics

Royalty Midst Retches

Can we call this one evil, if they are a product of their republic?

That nation that praises hypocritical morals, posthumously adopted by fathers long buried in the passed.

Anyone can take on a ghost principle, if one wants to proclaim a self-righteous invisible glory,

It only takes one gullible fool, to start a damaging fire.

Did we overtime become that gullible fool, whilst others led us to follow their dark shadows,

Yet to a ledge of internal death, in the pretext of independence?

But were we really sheep, flocked together by men and women whom knew our foolish morrals,

And cultivated the seeds of hope, to just grow the flowers of their end finances?

For what is a billionaire, or millionaire, are they not just babies,

grown with green forest around them, while we sit in eh self wanted concrete city,

wishing for their nourishment, and them giving bites at a time.

Can we blaim this anymore on the ignorance principle, The act of not knowing,

but yet living on hope and dream, when 99% of us die never getting a bite of their apple?

yet salivating for the taste of those red juices, drip seductively through vision and sound,

to the point when one would kill blood, just to have a taste of that green forest heaven!

Is that heaven seen by us in the mist of hell, millionaire angels and billionaire gods,

And us disciples warshipping their light in our poverty stricken darkness?

Have ones committed the ultimate  self sacrifice, because of failed atemps to touch their hands,

All we could do is drink the wine, and eat the crackers given from their tables!!!

You can only laugh at the ones who praise, hope!

You can only giggle at the ones who seek, dreams!

You can only guffaw at the ones who chase, fantasy!

But die with a smile of regret, that you were never able to be one of those angels…

So praise to the gods above, that you have wine and crackers.

Party on the land and sea, that you have family.

Give thanks and worship, that you are close to heaven.

Yet remember, that they are vain celestial spirits, that don’t really give a damn about you…

For they would walk with a stance, that states their better than man,

Yet heart corrupted black, from financial advances.

Skeletons formed by lower inhabitants, have no baring on their comfort,

For the ideals birth by money and power, make one royalty midst retches.