When Am I A Man?

"When Am I A Man?"

 

 

When am I a man?

That is the question you must first understand

Before finding the answer you've begun to seek

When the knowledge can be comprehended before I begin to speak

When are fantasies as real as they can seem?

Is it the nights when I infiltrate your dreams?

Can I compose your happiness today?

A song and smile to be sent your way

When do the birds sing upon your windowsill?

Is it when you lie awake in our bed so still?

When can the words good morning dance across your face?

Like when you missed our hello kiss, and can still drink its taste

When can you feel a look more than a touch?

When nothing is said and that alone is too much

Is it when you whisper to me of your request?

When to fulfill a wish I do my best?

But there will be days when your friends envy us

As their support gives way to such hateful lust

They long to feel the passion burns

With which we brand our hearts as this planet turns

It is true, my actions at time can be abrasive

But your touch is calming, and yet so persuasive

God knows best for me, and that my dear is true

Am I the blind man lost, within the parameters of you

Memories guide my way, and helped me to find today

But I asked a question first, so this is what I have to say

When am I a man?

Or more importantly when did I become a man?

Was it the day I was given the gift of life from the Lord above me?

Yes that could be,

But baby I believe I became a man,

On the day you first said you love me.

 

 



Broken Voice

"Broken Voice"


A short, but melancholy tale of an old man living his last days alone.
He is full of regrets over things he wished he had done in his youth.
Now, he spends most of his time praying to God.
Whether for another chance at life,
Or for forgiveness,
Or for God to take him from his misery
We will never know.

 

Down a corridor so cold and pale

Lies a soul so strong yet frail

He lies motionless as minutes past

A sinking feeling shall forever last

Who knows not its rhyme or cause

But between each breath a shallow pause

A soul so pure can weep in pain

In the grips of this solitude again

Who knows his horrors have no bounds

Attentive ears hear no sounds

No one but God hears the cries

Blind to truths, he lies awake to lies

The lies of a life unfulfilled

Inspire tears to join the spilled

What is life without a warm embrace

To see a smile shine upon his face

They say he loves this darkened state

That's why he'll refuse to clean his slate

To start again, to start a new

To be reborn within the heart of you

But do not weep, for you do not care

How your life would be, if he wasn't there

Would you notice as the day went by

That he didn't offer one last goodbye

Were there things you should've have said

It's much too late, your chance is dead

As I return to this cage of mine

Not in flesh, but inside the mind

Just know what he gave, he gave by choice

Now you're left with a song from the broken voice...

My Pledge

"My Pledge"

This is a short piece, written purely out of anger.
It was written during the first few days of President Bush's ordered invasion of Iraq.
I believe it was called, "Operation Iraqi Freedom."
But I basically remembered the things I believed about our country growing up.
How we were this shining example of freedom and liberty.
And how we were this righteous, melting pot of people.
Who always stood up for what was right, and punished those who were wrong.
But the older I got, and the more I paid attention
I had to be more and more honest with myself.
These things I believe growing up aren't entirely true,
and they are not altogether false, either.
At the end of the day, our country's beautiful name is tarnished
by those who in power, who use our resources to pursue their own gains.
And sadly, it is a slap in the face to realize these things.
So that is why I wrote this piece.
I felt wrong essentially rewriting our Pledge Of Allegiance.
Because I really do believe those words.
But I felt that it was the best way to convey the anger I truly felt.
But I intentionally made the piece short, so as to minimize the disrespect to our pledge.
I just felt these things needed to be said.


I pledge allegiance to the flag

Of the united nation that we once had

A nation that never wavered on moral ground

But has now lost its' soul and it is so very sad

And the republic for which it stands

Has sent its precious children to distant lands

To fight an enemy with no regards for life,

Much less liberty and justice for all

Yet like heroes true, they answered every call

Marching into the unknown

To defend the principles and values that once were shown

By those in charge of a so-called nation under God

Yet when dollar signs have blatantly replaced a crucifix

Then the nation's rulers are conspicuously flawed

For they are paid to lie and destroy our sovereignty at any cost

And I look to the Heavens above,

To see if there are more than souls than I, who can see we're lost

 



Ecstasy

"Ecstasy"

This is another short piece, written as a sort of playful series of boasts
that a man is telling his woman after making love throughout the night.
He is feeling quite proud of himself, because he believes
that he just spent his night thoroughly pleasing her.
But eventually, he realizes that after all of their love-making, and
now his gleeful gloating, a substantial amount of time has passed.
And as a result, his beloved woman is going to be late for work.
So he then begins to rush her to get ready for work,
all while assuring her that his rushing is out of concern for her job,
and not simply to get rid of her.
Because he truly, truly loves her.

Ecstasy,

Far from some little colored pill

But an honest to God thrill

That I get when you make that sound, of joy abound

As if signaling to the Heavens

The arrival of a god into the parameters of your being

Of which for me, cannot rival seeing

That sparkle in your eyes, as I drift slowly beneath your navel

Which somehow makes me able

To speak in tongues with my tongue

Words that only your other pair of lips can understand

Which causes painted nails to dig into my skin

Like the way the roots of trees penetrate the sand

And oh my do I, love the way you shiver, the way you quiver

Like somehow the temperature has dropped

My ego inflates as you gasp, like a child

When their new balloon has unexpectedly popped

And because you taste like water from a spring, and with your tongue

You can do that one certain thing

It makes me wanna drop down to one knee, and give to you a ring

Filled with diamonds, whose beauty cannot hold a candle to your own

But under the candlelight, you are divine, in the moonlight, you are a goddess

And if I can be honest, I am so glad that you are mine

But nothing can match the feeling that I get, from seeing you get wet

With sweat mind you

After a night of giving me your all, after I have given you mine

You should really hurry and get dressed, or you'll be late for work

Babe, I'm serious, just take a look at the time

But wait, one last thing before you go

You asked me what is ecstasy

It's being able to put my hands, my lips, and my fingertips

On any and every part of you

Because I know that you truly love me

And yes my dear, I do love you too.

 



Dream Girl?

"Dream Girl?"

This was a piece that was written as an exercise at first.
I wanted to test myself and see if I could write about a particular topic,
but at the same time put a different spin on that topic.
So what follows here is that exercise.
I took the topic of a dream girl, and instead of writing about my dream girl,
I wrote from a perspective that many guys could relate to.
I imagined being back in high school, and wanting that most popular girl.
That scenario you see in movies all the time.
The shy, introverted guy likes the girl who was prom queen and head cheerleader, etc.
So basically that guy narrates the piece,
and he speaks as if he was triumphant in winning this girl over.
And he is kind of boasting about it.
But as the piece progresses,
you slowly start to see my feelings about a dream girl creep through.
Until you get to the last half of the final line of the piece,
in which my, not the narrator's, true feelings arise.

 

I did what they said could not be done

When they said your affection could not be won

But I now possess what is not easily attained

Because they said your heart was too fragile, your style was too vain

But somehow you opened up to me

And showed me things that I was too blind to see

Like how your lips were fuller, than the moon on a winter night

And the sensation your fingers left, felt so very right

On this skin of mine, that only longed for your caress

And you answered my call, this heartfelt signal of distress

You wiped my tears, with the lightest of hands

They were warm yet soft, like the whitest of sands

Like we were on a beach, at the edge of the world

How can I thank the Lord, for the love of this girl

That's when the covers fell off, and I began to feel cold

And then I awoke, to what's considered the same old

Life that I've been living, away from her embrace

Burned in my memories, is the image of her face

I walked around the house, to see if she was there

A search unsuccessful, and now I am pulling out my hair

As all I could smell, was the scent of her perfume

And all I could find was disappointment, in every other room

That's when I stopped, and dropped to my knees

Looked toward the sky, and begged the Lord please

To return this girl to me, so I can keep my mind

The response came sudden, and what did I find

That it was all a dream, like a movie in the brain

So I'll go back to sleep, just to dream of her again

I know should not, but how could I resist

I love my dream girl, even though she never did exist...

What's The Use Of Beauty?

"What's The Use Of Beauty?"


This was a piece that was written purely out of anger.
I had been listening to some rock music,
and kind of just writing random phrases, hoping to get these emotions out.
But finally, true inspiration hit, and I began to write.
The first things that came to me were actually the last 8 lines of this piece.
And to keep the fires going, so to speak,
I just imagined the face of a girl that I used to like.
I kind of took a liking to her faster than I should have,
because I'm not an ordinary kind of young man,
and we had so many things in common.
But as it turns out,
liking her turned out to be a giant waste of time and emotions.
Thankfully, I was able to use the thought of her, to write this.
I pictured sitting across the table from her,
and delivering each line I wrote,
and seeing the tears stream down her ridiculous face.
And not surprisingly, I felt quite gratified after writing this piece.
And  I also, found the picture below online.
I thought it perfectly symbolized the theme of this poem.
No matter how beautiful someone may be,
they all have a side they hide from people.
They all have an ugly side.
So really, what's the use of beauty?

"What's The Use Of Beauty?"
2013

My pretentious pretty princess
With a crown that glowed invisible
The ruler of nothing worth anything
Who lacked every valued principle
Unaware, every costume that you don
Just hides your lack of self-esteem
And the crowd you're following
Is the true, pathetic sort of team
Or at least that is what I hear
From those closest to your view
And I believe them to a fault
Because the one descrbed is you
And I know just how you are
And it's not good to say the least
Yet when I tried to show the kinder side
You chose to wake the beast
Now you must deal with the consequence
Of the actions that you took
Like when you described our interactions
And just how you made me look
How dare you, little darling
To present yourself as this
Talking like I only bothered you
And didn't bring your inner bitch some bliss
When your calls were few and far between
And oft contained a need
So you'd hurl insults at yourself
Hoping your ego's what I'd feed
And I fell for it in the beginning
But then I figured out the game
So I began to play it better
And never heard you once complain
Yet, let's not forget the topics
We chose on the lonely nights
When you told me how you liked it
And told me how it was so very tight
Claming that since you were so small
You didn't always need it large
But when you didn't get what you wanted
You'd reach for your boyfriend that you'd charge
And he'd start dancing where you asked him
Causing everything to shake
Giving your toes their familiar curl
Until you had all that you could take
And confessions continued coming
Like the way you did in my thoughts
But I'll leave some secrets where they lie
'Cause some things should remain between just you and I
But don't take that shade of mercy
As some forgiveness for your crimes
Because you were a waste of my emotions
On so very many times
And I'm not claiming that I'm perfect
No, I have far too many flaws
But the difference is I liked you
And I hate you now because
I was just bragging rights for you
When you wanted to look strong
But on the nights you felt alone
You'd sing your all too familiar song
But now you have found another
And after loving him online
You finally got a chance to meet him
And then waste his precious time
But although he journeyed far to see you
And doesn't regret it on this day
I will sit back and count the hours
Because I know you will surely find a way
To drive him up the walls
That I once tried to climb
Until he leaves you to your lonesome
And that day will be sublime
Because you're the kind person
That wears thin so very fast
And you're better in small doses
So forever doesn't have a chance to last
And I'm sure that makes me sound
Like the most bitter of the men
That ever sought to be the rooster
Deep inside his favorite hen
And I'll accept that comparison
And I'll wear it like a stain
But after each daydream I wasted
I felt emboldened to complain
But I'm actually getting madder at myself
For writing all these words
Because if I'm being honest
It's more than your sorry ass deserves
And what you think of me from here
I'll leave up to your discretion
But you can do me this final favor
And answer this nagging set of questions
What's the use of beauty
If there's a fool beneath the smile?
And what's the use of duty
If an offered inch becomes a mile?
And what's the use of talking
If you have nothing smart to say?
Oh, what's the use of walking
When you wouldn't meet me half the way?

Dementia

"Dementia"

In my darkness may your triumphs find light
In my wrongs may your realize the things that are right
In my soul lies a pain that shall acquiesce to your touch
In my heart there is thought of you hurting me much
Do you smirk at my intuition? Do you deny such logic?
Do you wish to deplete my mind? While keeping for yourself it's profit
Are you cold-hearted? Do we share that emotion?
Do you wish me to suffer? Or do you bring to me devotion?
Will you give me your love, and all the things I ask?
Or am I too overwhelming? And is that too great a task?
Speak to me in your native tongue, and I'll respond without words
Take my heart and soul at once, like a shepherd's gathered herds
But there I dare to glance and say, they come with a lofty price
With my love comes vengeance, please choose to heed this advice
Love me and do me wrong, I'll follow you to the Gates of Hell
Brand you with my Scarlett Letter, and wish you wear it well
Why are my thoughts so dark, is what you often wonder
It's because I've been drowned in light, and the sun's shine never reaches under
Under the weight of the pain, I've placed on myself
Collecting dust is the Bible, that lies upon the shelf
That displays that picture of you, the one my eyes can't bare to see
In remembrance of things you did, to prove your lack of care for me
I wish it not to be this way, but it's how I've always been
Even when this life was well, my outlook was steady grim
I know not who to blame, so I'll blame the one I hate
The one who I see inside this looking glass, the keeper of my fate
But this person's not in focus, seems the glass won't let me see
The one who it is I hate,
But now it seems I can, and alas the one I hate is me...

A Voyeur's Testimony

"A Voyeur's Testimony"

Through a window slightly ajar, a breeze filled the room
And the chill it delivered, could've been interpreted to bring an impending doom
But as candle lights were extinguished, bedsheets rustle in the wind
And it was then we caught a glimpse, to a world they let us in
There was movements in the sheets, as the wind increased just a bit
Suddenly I blinked, and noticed that once again, every candle was lit
As if the breeze had barely made them stray
And they were going to mirror the passion, that inspired them to stay
Burning like the desire, these mysterious souls feel
Feeling like nothing else existed, as if lust was the only thing that was real
Compliments danced on her skin, like newlyweds on reception night
And her eyes shined, like stars swiftly shooting out of sight
Her long, dark hair fell into her face, like waves crashing onto a shore
And the quiet song she sung, seemed to expose her need for more
With each peak she reached, pleasure eroded the pain in her past
At this rate, she'll be reborn tonight, so she dreams it will forever last
The only pain she'll feel again, is the kind that makes her feel alive
With every thrust, she clawed at him, like she was trying to survive
The fall she was sure to take, for the one who made her feel this way
She thought he was a dream, so she closed her eyes tight, with intentions he would stay
But when she open them slowly, she realized she was far from being alone
And with a change in speed, she gasped for breath, and let out a most-approving moan
Her nails pierced his skin, like the flag of an explorer marking uncharted land
And her hair again parted like the sea, with a simply stroking of his hand
But as their movements reached such uncontrollable speeds
It seemed as if they were ready to see the results of their church-forbidden deeds
And in a second their cries combined, to leave an impression in my mind
They sunk into the arms, of the ones they fought so hard to find
And that would be each other, but that wasn't the ending of the tale
Because it was then, in the mirror I saw a reflection of a male
And this mystery man, seemed to have features that closely resembled mine
And then I realized, that this incident had only occurred inside my mind
But as I stared at myself a little longer, a hand moved across my chest
And it was my insatiable lover, ready again after her moment's rest
She said to me, "stop replaying in your mind, what we can easily do again."
So it is here I must leave you, and leave what happens next, to your imagination friend.

But, You Get The Idea...

"But, You Get The Idea..."

 

Regurgitated whispers

Are leaving tongues with blisters

Subtle marks of Cain

For a truth laid slain by stones

Who can one truly trust

When trust is troublesome

A burden of loyalty

Too strong for weakened shoulders

For not everyone is Atlas

Or Samson for comparison

But oh well, what the hey

Draped in fleas with dogs I lay

But look at you and yours

Troubled graphs, in shattered frames

And growing with the list of names

Are the cases for which you're assigning blames

Yet who am I to give a shit?

Whether or not your tale's legit

You spin so many webs

My arachnaphobia's kicking in

And the foolish pride we're prone to feel

Is like a sharpened knife that's sticking in

Between the third and fourth rib

That allegedly made a woman long ago

In the pages of a dusty book

That I gave up reading for a decade plus

But enough of that holier-than-thou

It's not worth the sweat from my brow

Much like you and yours

At least from my perspective

You know, the one that you've long since collected

When you needed to vent

About your dramas so vast

That conversations poured onward

For hours they'd last

And my attention? Often waned

My patience? Often drained.

My body? Often pained.

Because in your life, you oft complained.

But that's your usual shit.

Mountains and mole hills.

Inferred arguments,

And hurled insults for thrills.

But the truth is, you only raise your voice

To those who are weak.

And not every time,

Some authority figure would speak.

'Cause you're not a rebel.

You're a fool with a story to sell.

And knack for playing a role

On both sides of the fence

Feigning concern for each party

Cloaked in your shrouded pretense

But when left without a defense

You stopped down to lying

In hopes to justify your trying

To do any fucking thing

Besides bragging about banalities

And testing all our sanities

Or hurling your profanities

And the few fools who once inflated your vanities

Ha aha ahahahaha aha hahahaha ahahahahaha haha

You are pathetic, aren't you?

At least I think you are.

I mean all that bragging and boasting

Has it gotten you very far?

I didn't think so.

I mean, don't get me wrong.

I once sang a similar song.

But that voice had gotten hoarse.

And that sorry shit had run its' course.

And in truth, it was about as real

As the gods of the Aztecs and the Norse.

But hey, let's not put the cart before the horse.

Or try to hide our eyes from the blinding force

Of a sobering reality.

'Cause this wasn't written to make you mad at me.

But honestly, as a hope that you

Would finally shut the fuck up already.

Could you do that for me?

Or for all of us maybe?

Thanks.

I appreciate it.

Well, not really.

But, you get the idea...

Lacking Suggested Grace

"Lacking Suggested Grace"

When happiness is lying still

In the truest vegetative state

Near a stack of fabled texts

About a god I must forsake

A decision pondered long

Without a trace of haste

For my days are fleeting fast

I've not a seventh one to waste

And I know this bitter truth

Hurts you so very much

But there hasn't been a place

That misery has failed to touch

And if it's somebody's will

Or part of some grander plan

Then I would rather try to fill
My mind with things I understand

But I just wanted you to know

This pain I've caused to you

Wasn't done intentionally

But what was I to do?

After suffering through the pain

Of much self-doubt and strife

Knowing the path was arduous

And embattled like my life

But pity not this wretched soul

Lacking such suggested grace

Because I did discover peace
When I awoke and saw your face
Lying picture perfect in it's place
Like a portrait with a pulse
The might of beauty in a glance
Often overwhelmed my circumstance
But it's this search for answers
That has drove a wedge between
My non-believing state of mind
And this darling girl serene
And while not knowing's beautiful
When you're often fond of mystery
But these questions linger still
And they're gnawing at my sanity
Like, "why are we really here?"
"Will I always be alone?"
"Why am I daydreaming of a stage,
As if, it should be my home?"
"Why am I lacking confidence
Or any shade of love for self?"
"Why do so many place their faith
In the dusty, book upon my shelf?"
"Where is this supposed God?"
"Does He not see us failing him?"
"Or is He too concerned with praise,
And not the inner light that's glowing dim?"
"Must we always bow before we pray?"
"Does He ego need a constant stroke?"
"Constant worship for the insecure,
Aren't these words on which I should choke?"
But there are the truest thoughts of mind
Often thought in anger for a time
And I'm still looking for a reason
I just took the day to make them rhyme
I seek not to offend a reader
Merely alleviate the stress
That has become the avalanche
That's truly left my mind a mess
But I feel the anger rising up
When I think of bodies laid to rest
In the name of their belief
Worn so proudly on their chest
But with so many gleeful sheep
How could the shepherd ever fail
In the eyes of a growing flock
That feels He always will prevail
And you can't ever slip some reason
Into the cocktail of their choice
Because it's their angelic choir
That is drowning out your angry voice
So it's better to leave them to their tales
While a search for reason lingers on
As we forget about the buttons
The politicians have their fingers on...

Truth Is Beauty

"Truth Is Beauty..."

Truth is beauty, and beauty's truth

Just as imagination's the basis of youth

Young and vibrant she came to me

At a time when autumn and winter looked the same to me

The colors once bright turned dark to sight

Just as day's sure to give way to night

She passed not fast, and bestowed a glance

Her eyes met mine, as if by chance

A gift from God, the spark ignites

The stars they shine, like steady lights

They guide my thoughts, as they begin to race

I close my eyes, the dark outlines her face

I have fought to feel, these emotions pure

A disorder for which I seek no cure

If my love for you, will be the death of me

Girl I leave for you, what is left of me

And yes my dear we will go on

Because our love is far from gone

Although work puts me in another place

Not a day goes by that can erase

Who you are and what you've meant to me

Because I feel that we were meant to be

Girl, to your love I remain a slave

Until I lay flowers upon your grave...

Three Once More

"Three Once More..."

She said,
Like a fleeting breath on attentive skin
I feel your words slowly sinking in
Won't you say those three once more?
Because they sound so beautiful.

He said,
Pretty words only go so far
But will travel the desired distance if they reach you where you are
My dear, shall I say those three once more?
If they sound so beautiful.

She said,
Your silver tongue tells golden lies
As I lose myself in your darkened eyes
And you say those three once more
Since that's all you seem to do.

He looks and she said again,
You think the clever turning of a phrase
Could cancel out your apathetic ways
Just because you say those three once more
Are you insane my love?

He said,
My crimes are not unknown to me
But through these words, have I not shown myself to be
Someone at your mercy?
As I say those three once more

She said,
Your words pour on like welcome water in a lonely glass
Will you continue to display what you have shown me last
Or will you offer the same?
The same stale three once more

He said,
They cannot become stale if they are not allowed
And confessions are best when sincere and said aloud
So will you close the passageways to your mind?
Just to block these three once more.

She said,
This cannot continue on for both of our own sakes
May our love be a dream from which neither ones awakes
So I will love you forever
And if you feel the same, then say those three once more...

Do You Find Me Sadistic?

"Do You Find Me Sadistic?"

The roar of flying planes
Is drowning out your screams
And so pure are dying veins
When wrapped around your dreams
Are your heartstrings being tied
Until they become a noose
Into which we'll slip your pride
'Til your logic lets it loose
'Cause like flies inside of jars
Our point of views collide
As debris reveals the scars
That we've both long denied
Are our backbones being used
To wind us up to dance
Or will their whispers find a way
To kill the truth's advance
Since we let the ones with shovels
Dig holes into our lives
But they will never be content
Until neither one survives
So the shovels pierce the dirt
Like true catalysts for change
But they don't alleviate the hurt
They just magnify the mange
On this life that's like a hole
In which we have to hide
As our skin is hardening
To keep us safe inside
But give sufficient time
And one day you will see
There's more for your eyes to find
When you look inside of me
And that time is now...
So look...
Look into my eyes, friend.
Use your hands to lift the lids, and find your chosen path.
Make your way past the lashes, still dense like a jungle's brush.
Journey far beyond that gentle brown ring that lulls you into comfort.
I want you to look deeper.
Deep into that gloriously, blackened center.
Do you see it? Good.
Because now you know...
Now you know, just what you are dealing with.
See, I have searched the corners of my mind.
And found the pieces of my memories.
When I put those broken shards together
I was able to see the bigger picture.
It was a mosaic of sorts.
And I have seen patterns in your behavior.
Small, yet repeated betrayals.
Whispered, yet spoken insults.
All masked as some greater good.
All dressed up as attempts to see how far someone else would go.
But none have gone as far as you, friend.
You have turned other's vents into volcanoes.
Fanned their inner flames until only infernos remained.
Then you stepped back and watched my world burn.
And don't let the fairer sex be involved.
For then there are no lows you won't stoop to reach.
No chair that you won't kick out from underneath me.
All in an attempt to raise your stature in their eyes.
All in an attempt to puff your chest out a little further.
But the bitter truth is, you are nothing.
As meaningless as I am, you are less than me.
Everything you now flaunt, I've already had.
Everything you truly want, I've watched you lose.
And everything you think you are, changes with the wind.
I am the constant.
Slowly moving forward. Slowly evolving with time.
But still, I am constant.
A constant reminder for you, of your own inadequacies.
A constant reminder for you, of your growing list of mistakes.
And a constant reminder for you, that you're bitterness is well-deserved.
You hate on everyone and everything.
Only the things you do are of great importance.
And in your own mind, is the only place you can truly shine.
The rest of us? We just laugh at you.
But tell me, friend... do you know what your biggest mistake was?
It wasn't your betrayals.
It wasn't your whispers.
It wasn't even you getting rid of me.
It was your taking my kindness, for weakness.
It was your thinking that just because I choose to treat people well, that it makes me weak.
The fact that I choose not to raise my voice, that it makes me afraid to speak.
The fact that I rarely throw my hands, that it makes afraid to use them.
But you are mistaken.
You think that because you may have prominent friends, that that makes you better?
You think that because people know your name, that that makes you safe?
You think that because you have more money than me, that that gives you power over me?
You are wrong.
Because I am calm now, you see?
But if I were angry... truly and justly angry... do you know how far I would go?
Do you think if I got so angry and wanted to harm you, that I wouldn't?
Do you think if I wanted to tear your throat out, that there is anyone in this room that could stop me?
I didn't think so...
But don't worry, "friend..." We're just talking here.
But since we are JUST talking, let me leave you with this....
Life... THIS life, is a grand opera...
And for most of my young life, I was content to play my role...
To ashamed of myself to audition for anything else...
To afraid of my own power, to grab those metaphoric brass rings...
But you?
You've tried to cast yourself as the victim.
Persecuted by a trend-loving, imaginary-man-worshipping world...
Acting as if you are pure, and untouched by the corruption of our city.
But since you tried to cast yourself as the virgin,
In this little play of life
Then it's time you found out that karma is a surgeon
That will penetrate you with the knife....
And then, you will look up at me...
With that beautifully shocked look, on your ridiculous face...
And I will whisper in your ear, words that I heard in a movie once...
"Do you find me sadistic?"
"...You know.. I'd like to believe that you're aware enough,
even now to know that there's nothing sadistic in my actions."
"...At this moment, this is me at my most... masochistic..."
And as you gasp, and slowly crumple to the floor,
I will stoop down and smile...
Then wipe the blade upon your shirt...
And calmly, take my leave...

La Danse Macabre?

"La Danse Macabre?"

 

In our minds we share a dance

And on the floor we find the fear to give our love a chance

With swords and knives, it's our thoughts we guard

And to deliver fear a killing stroke has become as hard

As it is to fly inside a fleeting summer's breeze

When our ship has been troubled in all the seven seas

But when dancing, they say you should never lead with your left

And I look at the life I lead, and wonder what I have left

For the world isn't very kind

When your reality doesn't fit the image in their mind

Remember that they'll disregard your hopes and dreams

And only focus on the brands and sizes of your jeans

It's a photogenic world, full of plastic people with morals for sale

And they'll include a tan in a bottle, in case you're feeling a little pale

Paint your eyelashes black, so we won't notice your eyes are always shut

And pay your surgeons well, so they'll remove every self-inflicted cut

In our souls we share a dance

And on the floor we find enough guilt to give religion a chance

With swords and knives, it's our beliefs we guard

And to deliver sin a killing stroke has become as hard

As it is to devote ourselves to something we cannot see

While reading about miracles performed by a man we'll never be

But when dancing, they say the more experienced one should lead

And still the timid take control, because it's our egos we love to feed

For the gossip of sinners isn't very kind

When they're searching lives with fine-tooth combs, for what they'll never find

And remember that they'll disregard the truth, if lies bring more delight

It's not about who are you today, but what you do at night

And they love to know who you do it with, and details make them smile

They show their teeth to throw you off, their second face is just as vile

Paint your windows black, so they can see a reflection of their hearts

And they'll know their lives won't equal yours, unless they combine the parts...

I'd Rather Be Condemned

"I'd Rather Be Condemned..."

In a world where people seem to be searching for peace of mind,
I thought I would take the time, to give this online world, a piece of mine....

~ If waiting has gotten old, then I'm glad you have chosen something new.
~ The things we display the most, are what we wish people to believe.
Especially, since it's those who don't know us well, that are easiest to deceive.
~ If certain posts makes you pious, then I'd rather be condemned.
For there is an honesty in uncertainty.
And people are most afraid of what they do not know.
So they seek tranquility in what has been foretold.
They look for signs to guide them, because they are afraid to walk alone.
~ I wonder, what is a bigger disease, self-consciousness or self-righteousness?
On some days, I suffer both.
But if I'm being honest, I usually have a heavy case of the former and not enough of the latter. Because I sought to convince myself, that it was myself, that truly didn't matter.
But I was wrong. And right. I don't matter. But neither, do the majority of you.
~ Was Tyler Durden right?
Is self-improvement a form of masturbation?
Oh, tell me pretty one, how do you do it?
How do you project that air of invincibility?
How do you stay so humble while gazing down your nose?
Do all those extra looks make your synapses fire loud?
Does the awe you inspire truly make your ego proud?
Does their admiration make the little bit of hair on your body stand?
Does every like and compliment make you feel like you were heaven sent?
Tell me, pretty one! Tell those ugly souls like me, how much like you we could be!
If we just tried a little harder. If we just worked a little harder.
If we just got off of our fat, collective asses and sculpted our holy temples!
Then we too could be worshiped! Could we not?
~ Does working work for you?
Do you work and slave and sweat to make your money to survive like the rest of us?
Or do you do it for another reason?
Do you do it, so your neighbors and your relatives and your online friends will covet thy goods?
Tell me, little one, are brand names your gods?
Are the price tags on those designer rags their apostles?
Tell me... if you have to have something just because it's new.
And not because of what it can do for you?
Tell me little one, do all of the shiny things still catch your eyes?
Do you befriend the souls who can give you access to your prize?
I hope so. I want you to buy everything, little one.
Buy and buy and purchase your heart's content!
Buy the things that will fill that hole inside of you!
Buy the things that will make you forget the flaws you see in the mirror!
Buy the things that will make you smile and help you to forget the life you have at home!
I want you to buy until you feel complete.
Buy until you feel you are a better person than me.
It won't take long. Will it?
~ I wonder if God actually existed, would he or she be content with the things done in their name?
I wonder if all the little babies that died were really a part of his or her so-called plan?
Or maybe they were a typo.
Maybe we misinterpreted that, too.
Along with that book he/she supposedly wrote.
Maybe the so-called cornerstones of some people's character were chosen at random.
Maybe the true pillars of their principles were lost somewhere in translation.
Or maybe, just maybe, there is no plan at all.
Maybe we are all, just coasting along, like ripples on a pond.
The products of rock-like reality skipping across our face, until we've reached what lies beyond.
Maybe this imagined God is not on top of the clouds, but in our minds.
Maybe the words of his supposed son should not be in our statuses or news feeds, but in our actions.
Or maybe, just maybe it doesn't fucking matter anyway.

- End transmission. For now.