The Cynic Lives

I don't believe
a word being said
as cynicism runs
rampid through my head.
I used to think
he was gone and dead
as it was subdued
and put to bed
but a step back
and a realization gathered
brings a revelation
that means no other words mattered.
When others open
their yapping mouths
is when the voice within
my head gets loud.
It overtakes
all other emotions
(as if possessing
some magic potions)
and begins to attack
the purveyor of nonsense
who pushes preposterousness
through a blind man's lense.
The cynic then rises
from ashes long thought
to be burned for good
but was simply overlooked.
Pushed to the limits,
self control is released
as furious rage
is now unleashed.
Well deserved in this
occasion of ridiculum,
hopefully this is the finale
with no more yet to come.
The guardian of all
sacred common sense
can ill-afford
giving its two cents.
So with another bout behind
here's to this hope:
the cynic that lives
will live no more.

My Best Friend

My best friend
is what you are.
You are both near
as well as far.
You stand up
while others sit.
You won't put up
with any of it.
You do your job
consistently
with no complaint
or arguing.
You are present
in each room
in which we need
all business done.
We could do
without you
but the lack of ease
would not do.
I am thankful
every time
you are caught
by these eyes of mine.
You will remain
my favorite always
as you have been
in all previous days.

Imagination's Dead Nation

Laziness has stunted
the growth of promise
as hopelessness fills
the soul with a death's kiss.
A body once inspired
each and every day
now cannot continue
to go the same way.
The thoughts once had
that were so amazing
do nothing but disappear
as the good is fading.
The words that spoke
both truth and inspiration
are now corpses
of imagination's dead nation.
With nothing but a drained
brain and mind
there is nothing left of worth
here to find.

Finish the Slob

Take all the dirty towels;
discard them, not then, but now.
Take it all off the floor
where there better not be any more.
Wipe off the desk
to correct your dirty mess.
Organize the closet,
something that should be done more often.
Wipe off the lampshade
and watch the dirt fade,
a treasure underneath
the fools' gold beneath.
Finish the job
as well as the slob
and sit back to enjoy
the rewards of the ploy.

Circular Swirl

Round and round it goes
evading the grasp.
It goes down the drain
escaping hands and imagination,
unable to be gathered alas.
The pain is unbearable
as the insufferable anguish resides.
The moment goes down
in this circular swirl
on the most painful ride.
The drain consumes
what once so inspired
while a mind, the dreamer
who conceived the concept
is now too tired.
The concept so unique
is now so far gone.
Now also is drowned
any aspiration to continue
or want to go on.
The drain can eat
that which is wanted
while mind, body, and soul,
along with spirit and will,
will forever now be haunted.

Content Moment

A jump off the top,
a splash at the bottom on the spot,
the body hits.
Laughs and cries,
tears in the eyes,
the water leaves the body divots.
Turns on dives,
jokes and jives,
laughter fills the air.
Worries released,
racing minds ceased
with not a world's care,
family together
in a setting forever
to be so cherished,
far more satisfying
than an evening's trying
on some horse and carriage,
this moment here
is peace so dear
and impossible to replicate.
Therefore we
will sit in glee
for the most content moment to date.

Further and Further

It seems we are moving
everso rapidly to the side
on what was supposed to be
a stationary ride,
yet those in front
(as well as behind us)
continue their shifting
as if they are oblivious.
We continue our movement
away from a home
from which we did not
plan to roam.
We get further
and further and further
until a worry
of whether we can gather
ourselves in time
to get back there
strikes our minds
as our hope is bear.
We look out again
to see former neighbors
now miles away
and maybe even further.
The shear panic
almost suffocates
until a calm
so naturally innate
reminds the brain
there is no movement
except from others
preventing a reality bent.
Only the hallucination
and eyes' trickery
made it seem
a promise was slippery
but just in time
a reality set in
to reassure stagnation
needed by a soul again and again.

A Beating Heart, A Throbbing Breast

You heart is beating;
I can feel it through my chest,
its rapids rushing
through your throbbing breast.
It gains the speed
and goes down the falls,
its power great
enough to conquer all.
It screams for me
and won't quiet down.
It doesn't care
who will hear it now.
It can't contain
its passion at this point,
a passion that
does overflow and anoint.
It anoints me
as the chosen one,
the recipient
when all is said and done.
The one to thrust
the fire down upon
as the craze
goes on and on and on.
It paralyzes
my body and my soul
and takes a hold
of my being as a whole.
I can't respond
as I am taken back.
The only way
that I can now react
is to soak
this moment all in
through the pores
of my ever salty skin.
The moment will
ne'er be forgotten
as is the case
with all the feelings and emotions.
This ecstasy
that will always be
is forever one
you have given me.

Lies Between the Lines

Caught in your own lies
in between the lines.
Nowhere to go
with no answers to know.
Unsure how you arrived
to this point in time.
You only want
to escape your dreams that haunt.
You are tortured by actions
that have caused factions
within your mind and soul,
leaving a gaping hole.
You don't know where to turn
before you crash and burn
but you're going down
and can't turn around.
May mercy be upon you
as you cannot do
anything to postpone
an inevitable destruction alone.

Blast You

Let me blast you up and down.
Let me throw you to the ground.
Let me rip you to pieces.
Let me tear you in half
like aluminum foil fresh out of the bag
still free from coming creases.
Let me show you the passion
that has now been fashioned
out of the plethora of arguments.
Let me act surprised
of your trickery and lies
like it's an algorithmic function of common sense.
Let me stand outside
as you pretend not to cry
as walls collapse to the ground
and let me leave you alone
now that I've left that home
and you with your loneliness newfound.



FOUR WORD CHALLENGE:  blast, aluminum foil, algorithm, plethora

The Challenge

I push and push
until my body can't take any more.
I fight my lids
but my brain starts closing the door.
I try to focus
but my mind will have none of it.
I want to run
but my thoughts tell my legs to sit.
This challenge
is presented to me so unfairly
at a time that I
feel I can succeed everso rarely.
I know what is asked
and it scares me so very greatly.
I know the goal
and how my grasp of it escapes me.
I can't help
but think of the outcome of failure.
I can't help
but fret the consequences so major.
I can't help
but doubt my very abilities to do it
and I can't help
but think I can't put myself through it.
I need a plan
but the fear brings the body paralysis.
I need a plan
but my mind is too scared for analysis.
I can't run
because the endeavor is already here.
I can't run
because already come true is my fear.
I must escape
before my fate is sealed in the manor I thought.
I must escape
before my destiny becomes all that I ever fought.

Nature's Confusion

Raindrops fall
so large in all
I feel a dent coming,
but a bright sun
yet still comes
with the storm drumming.
The bright skies
bright blue with lies
of promises of beauty,
the storm tells truth
of beauty kept mute
and weather so moody.
The forecast complicated
as wardrobes intimidated
with confusion by choices,
no idea if nature
will show the ball clearer
and choose one of the voices.
With temperatures,
like characters,
changing stories constantly,
not knowing
which will be showing
is the only certainty.
Yet the amazing
fact so crazing
is the radiant scene's
apparent blessing
in its dressing
of peace that so clings.
The thankfulness
to show gratefulness
for God's blessing
is overcoming me
as I'm welcoming glee
and the moment given for resting.

The More Passive Form of Violence

Neglect:
the more passive form of violence.
Ashamedness:
leading to a permanent silence.
Abandonment:
leaving scars for the anti-trusting.
Hopefulness:
for those in a frightened encrusting.
Abashing:
spoken upon a victim endlessly.
Dismembering
an ego and psyche times countlessly.

Shredding
memories out of despicable spite.
Protecting
wrongs instead of rights.
Destroying
all that was precious.
Covering
all that is worthless.
Hovering
over ashes of pasts.
Mocking
what was thought to never last.
Crying
at realizations come true.
Haunting
from actions he cannot undo.

Permanent Perception

Is it wrong for me to question her movies?
It's so hard for me not to.
She does nothing for herself, but rather
all is done for others (that's all she can do).
Her singing is not out of enjoyment;
it is to show others her voice.
When others come within her sight
is when she increases the noise.
She struts with a little extra ferocity
when a crowd seems to gather.
She walks with a chest puffed out
despite the need for humility rather.
She loves to prove her knowledge
through the criticism of the righteous.
She loves to stand up to those correct
with a false pretense of being courageous.
She will make a friend as quickly as "hi"
though even quicker she will give a back a stab.
She will point the blame to a neighbor
as she holds her accused with an arm's grab.
She tries to play the card of the misunderstood
but only when a moment presents itself.
Those moments of seemingly refreshing transparency
are quickly erased by way of acts and words so selfish.

Is it wrong for me to question her motives?
It may very well be
but unless these actions turn on a dime
it will be a permanent perception held by all who see.

The Man Under the Lampshade

Sipping on a martini
in the darkly lit corner,
the person under the lampshade -
when it comes to this establishment,
he is a foreigner,
a shadow that seemingly fades.
He possess the mysterious quality
that makes lookers wonder
the story behind his shadow.
He could write romance,
hunt baby seals and make you shudder,
or be purer than a white snow.
He could be the wittiest
with a great sense of humor
and an ability to bring a smile
or he could be tasteless,
attacking the brain like a tumor
using jokes of Monica Lewinsky all the while,
but suddenly he is exposed,
his face seen in a glimpse
at which point there is no doubt.
He has the face of a saint,
the spirit to help those who limp,
and the moral fiber that would give a mother a joyous shout.
While more information
is attempted to be gathered
he smoothly slides back into the corner.
With no hesitation,
this man has so much mattered
though his story surely goes further.




Another 4-word challenge, my friend presented me martini, lampshade, Monica Lewinsky (REALLY?!), and baby seals...we/I made a new rule after this one which is no proper nouns (or at least not people).

Open Wound

I'm going away
and you're response to me
is "I have nothing to say"
before I cross the country.
You are supposed to stand
up for what you love
and be the man
who will always rise above
what challenge may arise
or what fears we may face
instead of your act of surprise
as you are stuck in this place.

I am sick of your games
and your heart-string pulls
as you continue the act
to play me the fool.
I'm tired of the constant
disregard for my very being
as you pretend that
I don't have any feeling.
Instead of a fight
I will give you what you want:
an emptiness of loneliness
and a reality to haunt.
You can enjoy the fact
that I am now gone
out of your life
as I have moved on
but remember my joy
as you revel in your pain
with a hole in your heart
and an open wound remains.




A friend asked me to write a poem about her boyfriend's complacency and a lack of sense of urgency when it came to her leaving town.  She wanted something that said how she felt so this is what came from it (and she expressed gratitude for the poem speaking so closely to how she felt).

Frustration, Frustration

Frustration, frustration,
how I know you best.
How my challenge
is to always get you off my chest.
I sit and am
thankful for your absence
until you come
in a quickest instance.
You come through
like a freight train,
like the unexpected
thunderstorm's rain,
and unleash a fury
without the slightest
warning of aggression
or sign of where the light is.
You don't have any
worry or a care
of who you demolish
on your way through the air.
You simply land
wherever you deem
and leave the host
with a need to scream.
Now you have chosen
my body upon which to prey
and as your new
home for an extended stay.
When you will leave
and when you will be depart
is not yet known
to my head or my heart
but the departure needs
to be sooner rather than later
if anything is to be left
but a giant crater.

Angry and Overwhelmed

They are all having fun, yet she couldn't look angrier.
They are content and she just wants to escape.
They are ecstatic for this opportunity
as only anger is seen and on her face is draped.
They are overwhelmed with the joy that flows,
yet she is bogged down with her depression.
Their complete satisfaction almost seems to place
upon her an overwhelming, unfair, yet irreversible oppression
and they will continue to roam and run circles
around a life that they couldn't find more easy
while she will revert and retreat further into herself
when her issues will do nothing but grow and consume her completely.

The Pattern of Smoke

Just me and a friend
with no one else,
the evening is perfect
to enjoy by myself.
I relax in a chair
on the porch all for me
as I bask in the peace
and revel in the glory.
I breathe deeply in
as my exhale releases
a puff that floats
and seemingly freezes.
The smoke is frozen
in time, in the air
as all else follows
and we just sit there.
I admire the moment,
the tranquility that rises
in a second that now
does nothing but surprises.
The cloud that encompasses
the ideal in which I sit
holds such a feeling
that's absence would cause me to quit.
The absence would hold
an ironic emptiness
that would overwhelm
each and every sense,
but thankfully that
hollowness has yet
to show its face
and rear its head.
So now with nothing to worry
about a frame thawing
this moment of perfection
far beyond appalling
will come to an end,
a finale in completion
that will still be enjoyed
past both its vividness and depletion.

Let the Moment Resonate

Let the crickets sing you to sleep;
don't let your eyes weep.
Let the silence be your friend
for he will be there 'til the end.
Let the breeze come over you
as you sit with nothing to do.
Let the peace calm your soul
and heal your spirit, making you whole.
Let the worries melt away
for they will be solved another day.
Let the tranquility bathe your mind
as your body is allowed to unwind,
and let the moment resonate
before it becomes too late.
Just let go as complete relaxation ensues
and enjoying the peace and calm is all there is for you to do.

He Must Be Reached

It's gotten him now,
it's taken control.
It's dictating his actions,
it's got a hold.
It manipulates him always
when most inopportune.
It mocks his existence;
it plays him the fool.
There are days when
improvement is seen
but it quickly disappears
in favor of the stream
of bad decisions
and poorly chosen words
that bury him into
his hole even further.
It seems the genuine effort
to get out is there,
but the means by which to
accomplish it isn't anywhere.
Some mock him
and spit on a grave
that is quickly being dug
due to the way he behaves,
but others worry
what the fate will be
of a life discarded
far too quickly.
The anger and resentment
others unfairly show
replaces mercy and concern
that from within them should flow.
With it all being
considered here and now,
the strong possibility
still is so pow-
erful that any day that comes
could very well be his last
so he must be reached
before his life is part of the past.

Not a Moment Too Soon

9:57
...been standing here
waiting for the clock to tick.
It seems its hands
have begun to stick.
I only have
eight minutes remaining
yet my hope
is steadily feigning.

9:58
One minute closer
to a goal
that seems too far
as hope gets more dull.

10:00
For some this time
would be good enough
but the aim here
is just too tough.
The chance to be
obtained here and now
is suddenly approaching
and upon me somehow.
I begin to feel
excitement overcome
until I remember
we are not done.

10:03-10:04
They come together
as I look up
to see the deciding hand
finally lock it up.

10:06-10:07
The exhalation
can now take place
as the longest leg
has finished in this race.
Let the final work
here upon us commence
as is all of our
nightly rewards and presents.

Koala Bears

Koala bears climb
through the trees,
grapes falling
with the leaves.
The simplicity
here intact
brings about
heavenly contact:
out in nature,
in the wild,
brings a peace
not so mild.
No credit card
is necessary
or needs to
be carried.
No distractions
so petty
can disrupt
a sublime so ready.
No need here
to cover eyes
from linebacker violence
or deceitful lies
nor is it
necessary
to warn of
lies buried.
It is simply
a perfect land
where dreams
hugely grand
flourish perfectly
coming out of heads
not lived in dreams
but reality instead.

Unequivocal Violence

I refuse to listen
because I can't
due to the inevitable
following rant.
My anger will easily
overflow
onto you whether
fair or no.
I will let loose
and unleash
the unequivocal violence
of a savage beast.
The words will spew
like sulfuric acid
that could not be
further from placid.
The yelling that increases
will do so quickly
and run you over
ever so briskly.
You won't know
how to react
as your body will
instantly contract.
I am at all cost
avoiding the contact
of eyes that will
pierce upon impact
because if this anger
is thrown upon you
you will have no
clue what to do.
So keep your mouth
shut and tight-lipped
and I will ignore
your ignorant blip.

The Time Has Come

The time has come,
the day is here
after all speculation
over all the years.
The returning of Christ
in all of His glory
with mechanical precision
to further His story,
the Spirit's arrow of truth
has landed in the ground
as its presence is felt
and its power resounds.
No longer will greed prosper
and evil deeds be carried out
or demon's voices
be allowed to shout.
Now only the roar of the Lord's
thunderous presence
and the lightning to accompany
this moment so intense
will survive this prophecy
finally come true
that has His believers
ready to go home for good.
The fatigued bodies now
no more ready than they could be
to give up the ghost
to take their souls to eternity,
the glorified celebration
is to begin right away
and God's fully earned praise
to follow each and every day.



Yet another 4 word challenge (as more are to come), I was given the words mechanical, arrow, greed, and lightning...they are getting more and more difficult to complete, but so far so good.

A Man's Floundering

It's painful to watch,
the pain that ensues,
as he now has no clue
as to what to do.
It hurts to see
him floundering about
in situations ordinarily
not that difficult, but that he has filled with doubt.
It is hard to understand
how he has such trouble trying to function
with a seeming fetter holding him back
like an unresolved compunction.
He acts as if he has
no experience communicating
as he goes around fearing
being considered to be irritating.
His lack of confidence
in every way he carries himself
saddens a bystander watching
who sees him put himself on a shelf.
One wonders whether or not
the appropriate action is to help
but one wouldn't know where to start
to save a man who is like a whelp.
It is rather difficult to assist
when mesmerized in the action
by a man's futile attempts
that fail to bring him satisfaction.
For now we will sit back waiting
and wonder when he will correct
the sad interactions at which he fails
that seem to continue to infect.

The Hard Road

Oh to flash back
to the days of old
before I knew brash,
before I was bold:
if I could use
the knowledge possessed today
in that setting then
it would've gone my way.
I would have had
almost all I wanted
except for the dreams I did
that always haunted.
I would have had
the life I craved
in such a sickening fashion
it would have eaten away.

It would have eaten away
at drives that started
form being denied goals
that were not quickly departed.
I would have been so
consumed in my greatness
that potential lessons learned
would have been wasted.
I would have been so
engrossed in my life
that I would now have no
capacity to deal with strife.

If it would have gone
my way all along
there is no possible way
I could be made this strong.
I would have collapsed
from pressure applied
for which I was not
prepared to survive.
If I had not
gone through the trials
I would forever be
full of that guile.

I could not be more
pleased with the past
for the man it made me
become so fast.
I am thankful each
and every day
that I had to travel
the road on which I was not led astray.