A Mother's Kiss

It feels like a century since my tar filled lungs could breathe
It seems as tho Hexxus has consumed my lungs
Singing a vengeful tune of destroying my being
Perhaps it's a curse well deserved?

With each passing day, I am reminded of what I could be
The optimistic being that one day everything will work out in the end
But alas there are no happy endings
Just pessimistic views of what could have been

Would you believe me if I told you that you were right all along
That the world was truly out to get you so that it could take your last breath?
Don't worry she's only taking back what you've taken from her.
Now your life will help aid hers.

No, don't cry, it's for the better
Your mother is taking you back into her arms
With a welcoming kiss from the Earth, she says
Now kiss your mother goodnight

Darkness (A Couplet)

A blanket of comfort

A blanket of fear

Suffocate me with humid air

And lead me to a sacred death of lust

Mark me forever yours and leave bruises on my skin

So that I may dream of you dear darkness

Darkness, the lonely lover

Blood

Love is blood

Blood seeps through the skin

It soaks the clothes

It leaves a stain

You drink its metallic taste

And pray it never ends

You feast on blood like you would love

It's thick essence filling your cup

Blood

Blood of your love

Your midnight lover, the one you prey

Drink them dry and wait for tomorrow

And use your beauty to collect another

Animus

The ground was familiar to the sound and feel of running. It became accustomed to it once creatures of the sea claimed the earth thus making it their slave and once evolved it was expected to provide them with fresh fruits of nourishment. As the creatures ate greedily there was only one species that was able to live in peace with the earth and provide the same gentle nourishment as it had for them.

20 Word Poem #1

I used to think all good things

came to an end

But then I met you

and I was right.

Darkness

I have a dear friend who I've known for quite sometime. Some of you may know him others may not. He's a very close friend of mine and I thought I should have the liberty of introducing him to you. His name is Darkness, an old friend from childhood memory and plays a key roll in the way the world functions. You see without my friend Darkness there would be no light, there would be no hope, and there would be no need to fear anything. If we feared nothing than what was there to lose? We wouldn't value anything and we would live our lives disposing things we did not find useful anymore.

Now, I'm not saying that we don't already do that but we know the value of something. Whenever we reject a persons kindness we have the feeling of remorse or that memory sticks with us for the longest time gnawing at the back of our heads. That is my friend Darkness telling you all the things that could have happened just because you rejected a persons kindness.

My friend Darkness, he pities the living for we produce morality. A tiger does not have morality, in regards to Mark Twain, instead it reacts on instinct. An instinct I wish to posses.

Adam's Ale

Pitiful nostalgia I have yet to admire

Do you miss me?

Though I've abandoned you eons ago

I find a longing to feel your waves on me

My hair is now copper

and my skin is now softer than it had been before

but the scars on my knees remain

as do the cruel memories

Though your ground has eroded

and the people on your land have been swept away

you still smell of salt and water creatures

your grass short but still green

Your rays are still unmerciful as I remember

My flesh still burns from my visit to you

Like a long kiss goodbye

hoping I'd return to you once again

Though I miss you and your people

I can no longer bare your smell

it is as though you've drenched yourself in perfume

to mask the wrongs you have committed

Will you change once I return

or remain to what we once were

my old friend.

Sleepless

Tonight I've become sleepless.
Dreams no longer fabricated in my thoughts
Instead, there is nothing but a blank screen
And I am right at the center of it

In this darkness, it's only me
Sitting on my own like I have all these years
A paper lays before me like a fallen leaf
And I have no more hope as it nears

The creature, it's long fingers scraping the walls
It's cloak long and dark hidden in the shadows making it move swiftly
Strides long and silent no footsteps can be heard
It's face covered by a hood

It was only seconds until it's long fingers held my throat
Forcing words down into my lungs
And poison into my veins
Perhaps the death of an artist is through restless nights

Are You Well?

My dear friend, are you well?

I know it's been so long and the days never seem to fade

But I can't seem to feel as though you fell

Into an utter abyss that I've made

Are you aware of the nightmares

The heavy dreams that haunt this wary head

It's nothing like flamboyant carnival fairs 

In this kaleidoscope of a bed

My dear friend, I must ask again, are you well?

Because these spiders in my head crawl and squirm

Like as if they've been dumped in a box with a ringing bell.

Perhaps it would be better to just confirm.

Coming Soon

Critiques and Insights

This will basically be my views on stories, movies, and activities going on today and even in the past. Please note that I am not paid to do this and is only based on my opinion on the matter. I hope you enjoy what I write and please feel free to comment your opinions as well.

Vinyl

Two years on the same record
Three words were spoken at the same beat
Three words with a different meaning
I'll let you decide on what they are
The guessing game
The game on where we decide on which song will be next
No need for repeat you'll scratch the record
"Break it you buy it." Should be the new slogan
On account of the "I'm sorry's" I've heard in two years
Which one was more real than the other?
Back to the record
It holds deep meaning but is now scratched
Do we buy a new one or continue our game?

September 13th

Dear mother, if it was easy to say the words that I feel would they still hold meaning or would they be dull like the shallow breaths you once took? Would my life still hold meaning now that I no longer have to force a smile even though on the inside I was dying watching the light fade from your eyes.

Dear mother, can you still hear me mother? Your birthday was 15 days in counting. Do you know that it's past a fortnight from your birthday and I'm still carrying the heaviness in my chest like I've just lost you the night before even though it's been two years since your passing and I'm still waiting for the third in counting.

Dear mother, three children bear the loss of their mother but only one truly suffers the most because they've endured your pain. Then seen the countless nights of sleeping in a dirt stained van with only take out foods to eat because we had no place to call home, not even the people we called family could bear us a room with open arms saying "Take this is a home open for everyone."  I've seen the nights of walking through sandy mud walking to the free land for a better life only to be returned to a land I once called home only to learn I was not a native there but only you and a man I called father. The nights where I would beg you not to go to work because your body was aching but you had a third child on the way and your second man was not suitable enough to change his ways and give us money to fill our aching bellies and heat our small home on those cold nights.

Journal/Freewrite Activity: 2 8/27/14

The temperature reached 103° Fahrenheit in Brownsville, Texas. Heat waves gradually rose from the ground turning Brownsville into a desert. The day was not bright, but rather yellow, as if the the world was a camera, and its effects had been chnaged from normal to sepia. This has been the coldest temperature in ten years.

Grass has been reduced on our lawns like the hair on a forty year olds mans head and our resacas have drained to where if you were flying above us you'd think they were the veins of our torn down city.

The reduction of water and food has brought us down to our barbaric roots. If a single drop were to come from your drain leaving a stain it's sure to follow that a mob of savages will appear with buckets, begging for a drop.

Those with resources have fled the land going to faraway places that support their needs. Many that remain have either nowhere to go or refuse to leave their motherland that breeds them.

We beg for water to return and have received nothing, but our hopes continue, having faith that surrounding cities, states, or governments will save us. Even if we have to wait until our last drop of water.

Mother

I remember when the days were longer
The nights seemed so far away
An aching breath keeping us steady
As you laid on your death bed

Tubes feeding your body things you couldn't say
Words too foreign for your native tongue
Unbearable to watch the heaviness of your chest
Like the weight of the world is on you

Maybe it was, as three children watched you die
Each day a piece of yourself lost
Not too slow but not too fast
Maybe that's why it wqs harder to let go

Perhaps thats why my memory is faded
Parhaps that's why I barely remember your voice
Perhaps that's why my heart aches
For a long lost teacher like yourself

The Perfect Crime

The moonlight accentuates her beautiful face,
She had no idea what was coming to her tonight.
My callous heart feels neither sadness nor regret,
No despondent feelings are shared as I gaze at her still face.
I met her at the gala just a fortnight ago,
Her red dress was an incandescent flame amongst the pale white dresses.
In all of the jargon going on that night I could still hear her sweet voice.
I was merely being bane for she was no joy herself.
I offered her glass of wine but she refused,
Ire flickered inside as she refused my kindness.
My face must've seemed torrid for hers showed terror.
I told her she'd regret this night, as I left.

Murderous Sins

Lackadaisical boy send a litany to your savior

While a macabre ghost haunts your vessel

The paucity of corpses scatter your home

Portend a plague upon your soul

Raze the walls of your insanity

And recant the sins you've committed

They saturate your clothes like sweat

With saturnine spirits, you walk your home

Slough the dead off your back!

Repent your sins!

And perhaps God will be merciful...

Living Machine

The gaze of desire is furtive

Garnished in a way that you lust for

An illusory desert created by mankind

Indigent stomachs from moving metal

My inordinate labor is nothing compared to yours

For I can't jettison my rusty parts

How dare metal misanthrope

It is man who gave you pertinacious thoughts

Without man you'd be a picayune item

It was man who gave you raiment

It was man who gave you cover

It was man who birthed you

So why do you have superior thoughts?

The Battle

"It was a game, a simple game."

The jest, as he dances, yells in the streets

He has gone mad you see

From a great battle he witnessed ages ago

Where roques marked castle sides

And nights guarded the front with great chivalry

The king and queen sitting high in thrones

Like Gods watching mere mortals play

I imagined myself still as a knight in battle

Awaiting the horseman to approach me with stealth

And as I stare death in the face I would not weep

Not a sound would escape me for I would be strong

The idea of a heroic battle is all in my greed

I can taste the blood on my lips but the man

The man he is ahead of me and before I can strike I am dead

And my kingdom is destroyed

The chess piece falls from the table and his final words for me

"Check mate."

Golden Temptation

Mistake my words for knives

And take my kindness for hate to the heart

Allow my love to kill you like a slit to the throat

May my kiss poison your skin

And the bruises I leave mark you for eternity

Allow my core to spoil you rotten like a corpse

Mistake my nails for thorns

And the texture of my skin for Egyptian silk

Allow my body to tempt you like a snake

When gifted with thoughts may commend

Would you take a bite from the forbidden fruit

Or allow it to ne taken in the hands of another

And forever they will remain with the golden apple

Dying World

The poison in the air, it fills my lungs

The atmosphere cooks me like a thanksgiving dinner

And it is all my forefathers fault

He cooked the cells like my mother cooks potatoes

Slicing, burning, and fueling his homes

Like starving children in the streets

Tell me grandfather did you think of the consequences

When you fed those children instead of your own

Instead of your own to make them grow