Scars

They’re carried each and every day, they never ever go away. I cannot seem to find a place where minds are clear and thoughts erased. They stay with me, they’re always there, it seems a saddened love affair. My heart is blackened when the air begins to flow with fervent prayer. The things I’ve done, the things I’ve not, they occupy my every thought. The questions that I ask myself are known to me; and no one else. The answers lie in of itself, or maybe on my dark bookshelf. Our past, it haunts, it makes us see, that which we often disagree. For truth is that, and nothing else. It doesn’t care for time, or self. It shines its light, and nothing more. It opens every locked, closed door. Yet when we see the things we’ve done, we often want to turn and run. Such deeds exist, there in your past, and if you let them ever-last, your further will be chained and cast to those who judge and those who blast.

Let your scars, while they remain, fade away into the plain. You’ll always have them, they’ll maintain, but use them for your growth and gain. Learn their passage, learn their plight, and if you ever have to fight, your scars will tell you what to do; if it’s wrong, or if it’s true. Some see them as the wounds of life, but I prefer to use them like a knife. Every time I’m broken, down; my scars remind me that I’ve found. I’ve always found that this will pass, and every time, it always has.

Love can be the best of things, but think before you exchange rings. Be certain that they are the one, that love and bond won’t come undone. Take a look back at your past. Make sure this time that it will last.

And if you doubt things, look to the stars. Then, look back, at all your scars.

The Story Tellers

The Story Tellers

Mysterious, whimsical; uncrackable shell

Are we who stand before you with a tale that we shall tell

Scribbling sonnets, haikus and more

Holding the key to life’s Happiness Door

Thinking and thinking, absorbed in our thought

Creating the worlds that the people have bought

Our role is so simple, just write a release

And give them a glimpse of our dream world of peace

Escaping the rest with a needed respite

Removing the darkness and casting its light

You enter our world where you can adjust

And create in your mind a place you can trust

This is your Haven, it was made just for you

As you let the harsh world fade so far out of view

Forgetting your stresses, forgetting your strife

Immersing your mind in this alternate life

We writers, we get it and do all that we can

To give you some hope; to be somewhat of a friend

Inviting you in to the world that we dream

As we share your same struggles and relate through our theme

That’s why we do this, as we regrettably know

That the world can be horrid, a frightening shadow

So we try to provide a thing that can quell

The fear of the world, through these stories we tell

My Diary

My Diary

I lay in this bed with these thoughts in my head, looking at the blood that I bled when these pieces of my heart were all shred. These nights tear me apart, make me wish I could go back and restart the life that I’ve led so I can sew together the dangling thread hanging over me. It taunts me, like that bold message you dread that you want to ignore but know eventually has to get read. And I try so hard to think of the good things instead but this pain is so widespread and it’s grip on my head is so tight that I can’t even slip the slightest semblance of solace into this locked shed that’s trapped my mind inside.

I’ve tried and I’ve tried and I’ve cried and I’ve cried and all the pride that’s implied on the outside can’t seem to hide the truth I’m forced to confide; that I’ve died on the inside. Each time I try to divide the sad thoughts that reside together in my head they just get amplified; magnified in frustration that I dared try to hide them. They collide like atoms in my mind and become multiplied until the whole space becomes occupied by nothing but unidentified questions and desires that I know won’t ever get satisfied.

My mind longs for either peaceful rest, or cyanide.

I can’t help that I view life through such a jaded, clouded lens. A timeline of careers and diverse group of friends, asking myself the whole time when will it end? When will I feel it and at last comprehend my purpose? When will I transcend this pretend realm and extend my everything to the place I so long to attend? These thoughts course through me as I desperately grasp for a Godsend to befriend and depend on to help me ascend to the realm where I know I belong.

Because that day isn’t far. Its not far from tonight, it’s not far from tomorrow, and I know this. I know this because there’s so much fuel in this car, each shelf stocked in this bar, so much pure light in this star that’s waiting to supernova.

But I guess right now I’m supposed to act like I’m nothing and won’t ever be something, because that’s what people want to see. They don’t want to think that the people they feed are destined to overcome and succeed, growing bigger than them because it causes a stampede of lost causes while it impedes on their dreams – but hey.

It really isn’t fair to hate on someone just because they have bigger dreams than you.

But that won’t stop them, will it? No, they’ll still hate the success and your name in the press as they cuss and confess that they knew you’d progress into whatever it is you’ve become. And while they look in the mirror and hate that you’ve made it, they’ll try to bring you back down to their playing ground to make themselves feel like they’ve crowned a win while instead they just drown in their toxic waste that surrounds.

People confound me.

But this last verse, no more ire as I light a bright fire and tell all of you reading that I never will tire from doing what’s right as I fight and aspire to always reach higher on this quest to acquire through blood or gunfire the just world we deserve.

That’s the long answer to the frequent inquiry.

These are just thoughts…that I write in my diary.

Picture This

Picture this, a long hallway all lined with words

There’s writing on walls

Perched atop the banister are ravens, the blackest birds

As you softly tiptoe through these dark, sadistic halls

Picture this, an unmarked door confronts you

You know not what’s within

A frightening cry, it pierces through

Compels you to come in

Picture this, scratched on the paint as you step inside

Letters on the wall

Spelling names you recognize

Your friends and family, one and all

Picture this, the afterlife, this dimmed out room; it’s dark reveal

Their fates, when death they sow

Now tell me, if this God is real

Would you really want to know?

Never Satisfied

My biggest fear isn’t what I thought it’d be

It’s not the day of final rest, not the day I cease to be

It’s that my time alive isn’t spent the way it needs to be

That all I did was sit back and react to what’s been done to me

That’s not the path she laid before, not the path she paved, you see

Her lessons still resound within, under the umbrella tree

But sometimes when I sit here thinking what all lies ahead, I grieve

And wish instead I’d grew up, obtained what I used to believe

The life they taught me I should have, picket fences painted white

Ph.D, tenure and the other things they say are “right”

Then my thoughts drift back to her, and the talks we shared at night

As my focus fades into the place that it belongs, to write

Do the things in life that as a kid I’d always dreamt I’d do

Even though my father told me “go to school, just think it through”

There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t give to have just one more day

To spend with her, to do the things we talked about, the things we’d say

All I am, all I’ll be, everything that I create

They’re all because of her and things she’d teach me when the night was late

As I look into this mirror, I know she’s here and hasn’t died

She lives through me and fuels my work – it’s why I’m never satisfied

Priorities

Hello my friend, please dim the light

A tale I have for you tonight

About a man, who long ago

Was hanging up the mistletoe

For ‘twas December, and time for he

To decorate the Christmas tree

This man; a husband, a father, too

His family should come first, it’s true

And yet ‘twas something, about this man

He always tried, hard as he can

To make sure all his neighbors, friends

Thought of him highly, through rosy lens

Even when his family’d thirst

His image always would come first

When the world would look, they’d see

This sad and false reality

And on that day, as he hung the tree

A decision forced to make, was he

The ornaments were not enough

To fill all of the branches up

‘Twas just enough, in this small crate

For half the tree to decorate

One side, beauty; one side, bare

And as he finished, the man stood there

As they shifted, his eyes looked slow

Between the room and bay window

Who would see the lights? Decide

His family? Or the world outside

He did not want them all to see

He can’t afford to dress this tree

Frowning, as his thoughts collide

He chose to face the lights outside

When he was done, he turned to bear

His five year old son standing there

“Hello Daddy,” he said to Dad

“What’s wrong? The tree, it looks so sad.”

Looking at the boy, he said

“Don’t fret my son, it’s time for bed.”

He tucked him in, and with a blink

For one brief moment, began to think

But just as always, his thoughts would steer

To justifying; his conscience, clear

Then, as he laid down with his wife

He smiled, proud of his false life

So now, my friend, some thoughts have I

To share with you, about his lie

For far too often, our story here

Rings true to others, both far and near

And is, I ask, it really fair?

For any true “friend” wouldn’t care

How rich, how poor, our quirks and plights

Truth is that we all have these nights

I wonder why it caused him strife

Those folks weren’t even in his life

Remember friend this story, please

And consider your priorities

Happy Valentines, from Ebenezer Scrooge

Happy Valentines. Ha! Yeah right

The only date I have tonight

Is with my gold, to you I say

And this glass of Cabernet

All these hearts and all these roses

All these stupid picture poses

Make me so sick I could die

Go stick those photos in your eye!

This money’s all I want and need

And if you tell me that’s just greed

I’ll take a gold piece from this case

And slap it to your ugly face!

That’s right lovebirds, the time it is

To put my money where your mouth is

That’d shut you up, oh ‘twill be grand

To post THAT on my Instagram

“Hashtag V-Day” you post up

“Oh aren’t we cute?” No, now shut-up!

I swear this day’s like Christmas, yuck

Why must holidays all suck?

Bah, humbug. Get back to work

And tuck your ugly shirt in, jerk!

Your boyfriend looks like such a stooge!

Screw Valentine’s! I’m mister Scrooge.

Keep it Close

It’s funny really, sit back and watch

At all the people, climbing notch

Try to break an industry

That only wants to catch, release

They all want content, what they need

A mind like mine, that doesn’t feed

On all the bullshit, all the fake

And how much money can I make

This game is changing, get on board

Here I’ll help, on my accord

You heard me right, what you’re surprised?

It’s weird, I know, a stand-up guy

See all these disrespectful lines

Just show me how small are your minds

And treating people like you do

It’s getting old, get with the new

Yeah, I said it, deal with it

I don’t care what trash you spit

Your game is awful, get in line

Cause none of y’all can top this mind

I know you’re mad, and feel like fools

That’s natural, we’re animals

That’s what happens when you’ve lost

Hey, keep it close, these keys I tossed

The Real You

The real inside you wants to out

Because you know what you’re about

It’s scratching, teething, ripping in

Creating so much real tension

The world is wasted, the time is ours

To fix these fucking scrapes and scars

These people all have gone to hell

It’s time we step up, fix the shell

Well do it right, not what they did

Well take this place and fix it, kid

The time has come, let’s get it done

Let’s own this world with endless fun

Let’s make religions, get along

The red and blue will sing their song

It isn’t hard, for all it takes

Is you and me, to be awake

My Black Inkwell

This is a story, of that I’ll tell

As I fill my black inkwell

A pen and pad, it works you see

Yet naught compares to quill, and ink

To sit within this room of black

And think of all the world shall lack

The pain I feel, I think it so

The same as Edgar Allen Poe

A Telltale Heart, a seedless plum

A tortured Pit and Pendulum

F. Scott Fitzgerald knew it too

Society is just a ruse

A dance, a game, a twist, a turn

We writers ask “when will they learn”

The answer lies so far within

A world of malice, hate, and sin

The times have changed, the people, not

For money’s always paid and bought

It’s ruined folks, brought out the worst

The evil, bad, their power thirst

The ones who see it, smart they are

The stronger intellect goes far

The ones who don’t, who lie and cheat

Shall have their shame drug on the street

I Want to Die

I want to die

But not because

The reason that

You’re thinking of

See all I want

Is for you hoes

To like my poems

And like my prose

And come on guys

We all admit

That once you’re dead

Your works legit

I know, it makes

My mind go numb

That people are

So fucking dumb

Appreciate

They can’t, in place

When greatness slaps

Them in the face

Because they can’t

Get over, see

Their mindless, stupid

Jealousy

So yes, I guess

With drawn out sigh

I’ll bite the bullet

It’s time to die

No, B!

Why does he just stare at me

As I’m driving, silently

Watching oh so creepily

Licking chops so hungrily

Does he think of eating me?

Does he want his bowl to be

Filled with water, does he see

How his gaze drives me crazy?

I must breathe, I think I’m free

Surely he is not hungry

For my flesh and bones, I think

He just likes to look at me

Phew I’m calm, finally

I’ll just turn and drive, as we

Wait…whats this you’re doing, B?

NO! Oh my God, someone help me!!

It’s Cruel, You See

Gazing in this mind of black

At all the things that I’d take back

If only it was kind to me

But time, regret, its cruel, you see

The things I wish I hadn’t done

They never fade, they never run

They occupy my mind at night

And fill my heart with doubt and spite

Oh, to have it back, now lost

I’d pay the toll, at any cost

To right the wrongs, that I transgress

To heal the pain, as I regress

Alas, its time that’s cruel, you see

And as I look back, woefully

The past, it grows so rapidly

To haunt my wounded memory

Together

In my chamber, losing sleep

Rocking, thinking, silently

Watching broadcasts quietly

Observe this world, so violently

I wonder if the day will be

When people live, peacefully

Shedding war, with treaty

No longer loving fearfully

It all could change, if only we

Would be the change we want to see

We must admit, reluctantly

To fix the “us”, it starts with “me”

Don’t take offense, the truth, you see

Is no one lives life perfectly

We’re all together, I decree

To live, one human family

Don’t Wait

Oftentimes, I’ll look to see

The person looking back at me

Watching through a hazy lens

At who that strange reflection is

 

Staring forward, several blinks

Is he the person that he thinks?

Does he do the things he speaks?

Is practice coming from the preach?

 

My eyes still glare, this man ahead

I’ll wonder what, that day, is said

Right now I live, and yet I dread

What memory, of me when dead

 

What mark have I bestowed upon

The family that I belong

I hope they say, when I’m a thought

That happiness is what he brought

 

Improved the lives, of all the men

The girls and kids, the children

For life is but a journey, yes

We walk and run, we talk and dress

 

We do the things we love to do

To make ourselves enjoy the dew

Every day, a precious gift

So smile wide, and heart uplift

 

This path is short, don’t waste your time

Just search and search until you find

The purpose you’ve been looking for

Unlock and open passion’s door

Doubt

Some folks believe me

Yet others still doubt

It’s funny to me, really

When I say what I’m about

I’m climbing this here ladder

Right in front of their blind eye

Yet they still keep on hatin’

As if the fucks I give could fly

So let me put this plainly

These words, do not mince

We’re righting world wrongs

We’re not trying to convince

We’re not trying anything

“Try” means we could fail

Sorry, that ain’t an option

This ships already set sail

So be on board, or don’t

That choice ain’t up to me

I’ll just keep on writing

Making minds more bold and free

And when this ladders finally scaled

When at last we’ve reached the top

I hope you brought your sailor shoes

Cause this ship ain’t ever gonna stop

When Finally, It’s Built

The last years of your life

So confined and constrained

Arthritis was rife

It hurt, and it pained

No solace you had

But to lay in your bed

Retreat to your books

Build a world in your head

I’ll never forget, Mom

All the stories and shows

We’d read and watch together

To forget this life’s woes

CSI, Nora Roberts

Your favorites, I know

You’d gleefully immerse

In her books, or that show

Oh Mom, how it hurts

To think of these times

It rips me apart

But keeps me alive

All that’s ahead

Everything I achieve

Is all due to you, Mom

And your love for me

You deserved so much more

How so badly I yearn

To turn back the clock

Give the life that you earned

The impossible, I want

The impossible, I need

Yet I’m forced to move forward

And to carry this grief

Your love for those stories

They’ve inspired me, Mom

And I promised you one day

That’d I’d carry that love on

One day, Mom, I swear it

No more tears will be spilt

When I cut that bright ribbon

When finally, it’s built

What If They Died

What if they died?

What if that artist

Who painted their works

So great, yet shunned

For personality quirks

What if that singer

Who hit impossible notes

Wasn’t caught up in drama

Or the brunt of your jokes

What if you focused

On content they write

Instead of the bullshit

The cheap and contrite

Why is it, so often

An artist, who yearned

Must die to achieve

The recognition they’ve earned

It isn’t the painter

Whose genius, they leave

It’s ego that chains us

A jealous reprieve

For when you are dead

You’re no threat to us

So sure, we can like you

Just stay off of my bus

Some day, I do hope

The people will see

That passion is living

And envy is greed

The Grammar Nazi

The Grammar Nazi

Dot your “I’s” and cross your “T’s”

For fear of err, or wrong

Well look right here, oh can’t you see?

That comma don’t belong

Hey, you listen here!

So get this through your head

Stop focusing on the stupid rules

And hear the POINT, instead

A colin, a comma, it matters not

The message is on the stage

So stop the dumb, annoying tweaks

And learn to READ the page

Wrap your head around the point

Forget formalities

Writings an art, forget this not

And we’ll do it as we please

You

What things go through your head

When you lay down and no one is there?

When you know that no one is listening

Is it a dream, or perhaps a nightmare?

Do you think of the rest of the world

And how we’re all stuck in a cell?

Or maybe those shoes you’ve been wanting

Or if there’s a heaven or hell?

Think hard, for I say this

Not to judge; no fingers I point, I can say

But your thoughts? They truly define you

Not facades, nor roles you portray

Live. Love. Be honest

Please, be true to the core

For when you find the real you

Your reason to search – it’s no more