Archive for November, 2012

Fire of the Phoenix pt.2

Posted: November 30, 2012 in Poetry
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There will be a day

When this forgetful world remembers me

After it leaves me for dead

Before washing me out in the salted sea

As for the nearly now

The journey begins & it’ll end back home

Don’t regret the pain I’ve said

The poems fuel the fire of my black tome

Thawing time’s trivial tears

This is the year to reap the pain I’ve sown

Felt the always growing pangs

But I’ve never learned & I’ve never grown

Somehow; Someway

Something blessed me to still barely breath

I’ve embraced those ghosts

That would always haunt the homes I’d leave

My darling fire is dying

She whispers that there is just one thing

That must be burned

Before this blackened air begins rising

I must ignite myself

A suicide of the dark soul so I can live

Tragedy of my wasted time

A tragic time that was never mine to give

The unforgivable sin

That cultivates hate & never creates love

So here I stand at the cliff

Whit just one request for a tender shove

As I finally fall

I vicariously watch my self go

Along with the hesitation

That would never let me go so I could grow

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Loose,

Are the ends;

Of the ties,

That we found.

Truth,

Becomes scarce,

The further,

We abscond.

 

Sailing,

With no wind;

Can’t begin,

Without fare.

Drifting,

And just past,

The dead last,

In nowhere.

 

Laughing,

Stale crying;

Just passing,

Empty times.

Dying,

For more life,

As we vie,

With these rhymes.

 

Birds,

When we fly;

Staying high,

Levitate.

Herds,

As we pair,

Just to bear,

Through the straights.

Fire of the Phoenix pt.1

Posted: November 28, 2012 in Poetry
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You better let me walk away

While you still have a warm house to burn down

Best watch what it is that you say

For I know the true signature of sound

 

Could of exposed you long ago

But wasn’t blessed to burn yet so brightly

Sharpened by this abyss I’ve known

My smile now a serpent not so friendly

 

Laughed as the light of my life wept

Tinkered toy that tailored your dirty times

Funny how fire forged from regret

Alliterates your fate; forget sweet rhymes

 

How holy the thoughts of your head

Remember you said, “Maybe God don’t mind?”

God was left for dead in your bed

You chose my hell so I choose when you die

As It Was Made So It Shall Break

Posted: November 27, 2012 in Poetry

Between the drops of heavy rain

I survey this world

& take in all its pain

So much so,

It breaks me in two

But then I pick up my sword

& my words become glue

You can piece back your heart

But it’s never the same

Can’t go back to the start

After you change…

Street Poetry

Posted: November 27, 2012 in Poetry
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Spreads across the streets

Like a disease of the concrete

It’s in the polluted air that we breathe

& the dark confessions we speak

It’s the messiah of poverty

Healing the broken hearts that bleed

Giving the forgotten a reason to believe

Helps the liars find a moment of honesty

It’s the addicts’ only recovery

The poor animate daily its poetry

Sets a fire under their tragedies

It’s what the slum thinks when it dreams

The rhymes of the hard times

& everyone knows what they mean

Makes the blind see the signs

And the ignorant realize

Words of a lost world in a city

It is the divine comedy

They Talk A Lot

Posted: November 26, 2012 in Poetry
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I fear who I’ve become as time ticks by

Ponder the enigma but there’s no why

Can’t help who I was it fit like a glove

A rhyme with no meaning destroying love

 

Somehow managed to fall into their plot

Waiting for Abraham to come save Lot

Kicking myself for now I know better

Writing with blood the words of this letter

 

Judge from up high upon a throne he sits

Protecting profiteers and hypocrites

Disturbing children just leave them alone

We’ll let he without sin cast the first stone

 

We’re dreaming their dream while there our life goes

They can pontificate but no one knows

Commercials that sell inadequacy

Don’t let them shape your soul’s identity

 

The 500 Days of Phoenix pt.2

Posted: November 26, 2012 in Poetry
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Her fire burns a mesmerizing blue flame

Everyone is different yet somehow the same

For me this blue is a passion

A sadness

An incinerating heat free from social impurities

It exposes weak excuses and denounces false liberties

Supplicating servants and denying devotees

Leaving prayers unanswered

And the jaded wandering

In a wilderness of madness

Where the promised land is seen

But never achieved

The curse of Moses that began as a dream

In symbols recording all that is witnessed

I contemplate sewing shut my eyes

I sometimes surrender completely

And kneel down to pray

But those are the times that I am unable to cry