"Filthy"

‎"Filthy"


Can you see?
Do you even try?
Of course you don't.
You don't ask why
Until you ask the world
In hopes of feigning confusion.
You feed them the illusion
That you're lost or Disillusioned.
That's when you're afraid.
What a mess you've made:
Nothing happens in the light;
But nothing ceases in the shade.


You're starting to fade.
You're not looking well.
You pretend you've got it made;
But you're living in hell.
Ah well.
It's never been my style
To watch others wade and rile;
So sit there and self-defile.
It looks like you'll be awhile.
Why so worried? Smile.
You've no reason for regret.
This life is your best bet.
All your wants have been met...


...but you refer to them as needs.
All your glory. All your greed
Strewn across cold hearts like seeds;
Growing up to choke them like weeds.
Go on. Proceed.
You make this so fascinating.
Thought to be exacerbating;
It's become so satiating.
This is just so interesting:
All this time you've been investing;
Mistaking shortcomings for blessings.
You swear to God that you're progressing....


....but soon the day will come
When you can't hide the setbacks;
And when they ask you to step back,
You'll rewind to all those hollow "facts"
About the "nature of your condition"
Or how you're "in transition."
You'll send yourself on that mission
Just to make them look and listen.
You pretend to care so much.
Yes. That is my honest opinion.
You can dust it off and such;
But dirt clods will never glisten.


They don't believe you.
They never needed to.
You can cover yourself in mud;
But you will always be see through.
You flawlessly fool yourself
As you aim to sway the masses;
But the sheep will never follow
A shepherd mistaking them for asses.
Take off those glasses.
Rub some more soil on your face.
Cover up that faulty grace.
Lick your fingers. Have a taste.


All prior remnants of truth
Have been scattered and misplaced
From filling in those nooks
Where purity has been erased.
Divinity is now obscenity.
Eclectic has become decrepit:
The pupil of all impurities
Has fallen victim to it's method.
Don't worry about the stench.
It simply separates the guilty
From the hearts they wish to clinch.
No thoughts are wasted on the filthy.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"The Man I Never Met"

"The Man I Never Met"

Khaki pants with cuffs
that draped over house slippers.
Suspenders clamp to his pants
and he always checks his zipper.
A buttoned down dress shirt
that was always tucked in neat
and a dusty old cushion
that always lined his seat.
Glasses thick enough
to reflect the sun's rays
and the same multicolored tie
that he wore every single Sunday.
Coffee mug on the table
and the sports page in hand
that barely hid his eyes
from the neighborhood he scanned.

There's that old man again
flirting with his "lady friends."
He never asks when they are leaving;
just when they'll be back again.
Some find it awfully absurd
for him to have a way with words.
Others just hope when they get old
that their words can still be heard.
No matter what the weather,
he will always find a way.
Hell, he put that deck together.
He sits out there every day.
He always had something to say;
be it witty or wise
and knew everyone by name;
even when wearing a disguise.

His wife was a saint.
She was such a nice lady.
He talks about her often
along with his seven babies.
Six boys and one girl.
Two of them are twins.
Three of them fuss and fight;
as the eldest sits and grins.
One loved to lift weights;
but he's lost all of that muscle.
Another traveled upstate;
claiming to stay out of trouble.
One was a Jack of all trades;
but his life was hard to master.
One took right after his father;
finding women to chase after.
The daughter was quite profound.
He called her his firecracker.
Every time he came around,
she brought him joy and laughter.
Her and his wife would butt heads
as did most mothers and daughters;
but she was always Daddy's girl.
She never disobeyed her father.

His wife was more than nervous
when he was called for service.
She didn't know how to act;
but he promised he would be back.
Indeed he did return
with a big bag of clothes
that were torn and burned.
She was happy, yet still concerned.
He still looked the same.
He still had that familiar grin
that beamed from his dark skin;
but he was not the same within.
It only took one pointless war
to incur the most painful scars:
His were memories he can't forget
as he saw things he surely regrets.
Her's were things she's never seen
from one who can't recall his queen.
The children were often caught between
all that was vulgar and obscene.

As the days dragged by,
his tortured mind began to die.
His mood swings were too much.
His wife would often cry.
His simple life was upstaged
because he couldn't turn the page.
His violent temper was the primer
for his drunken fits of rage.
There was nothing he could do.
There was no one who could help.
He lost all that he once knew.
That was when he lost himself.
That's when he left without a sound.
He was nowhere to be found.
His wife often asked around;
hoping he'd soon be homeward bound;
but he left without a trace
until a body was misplaced.
They let her see his face;
but it didn't carry his grace.

No one knows the truth.
Very few knew he was gone.
There were no remnants of proof;
so they eventually left it alone.

Dark pants with cuffs
that rested above dress shoes.
Matching belt around my waist
that had the exact same hue.
A buttoned down dress shirt
featuring a Double Windsor
and a solid sport coat
that I often wore in the Winter.
Contact lenses in my eyes
although I love my glasses
and a watch I often checked
whilst my sister was in choir practice.
A thermos sat on the table.
I kept my phone in hand.
I kept my mother on the speaker
as I text my girlfriend for later plans.

I often think about that man;
wondering if I have any of his ways.
If he were sitting next to me,
I wonder what he would say?
Would he constantly remind me of
how much I look like his daughter?
Or maybe how my brother is so active
that his uncle could've been his father?
Maybe I'd get the chance to hear
about how much Grandmother scolds him
about eating so much bread with dinner
although he says she never told him.
I know it would've been great
to observe where I come from;
but I guess I came too late;
so I just sit here; feeling numb.

I never got the chance to forget
or even a small shot at regret;
so I sit outside every day
thinking about the man I never met. <3

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz


For you, Grandfather.

"The Scenic Route"

"The Scenic Route"

She would've been a catch at 22
If not for the catch 22:
See: I caught her on her knees
Fulfilling some unsavory needs.
Even when she wouldn't feed,
They still urged her to proceed:
Kept her knuckles to the wall;
Knees scraped till they would bleed.
She thought I would take heed;
But instead, I took the lead.
I wanted to see her face
Because she still deserves grace.

Ever woke with a change of heart?
I slept with a stranger's heart
In my hand.
Lately, its been strange on her part.
Is it me she cannot stand?
She mutters for me to expand.
My mind will countermand.

I completely understand;
But she clung to her demands.
I thought all was in hand;
But she had much more planned.
I implored that she desist
Although she was hard to resist.
She would push on and persist.
She said that I was on her list.
Her confused mind consists
Of all the hapless charm and wit
That tore her Psyche to bits
As she did things she can't forget.
She invited me to follow;
But deep inside, she was hollow:
Filled with filth and guilt to swallow
Searching for solace to borrow.
Her eyes held no self care;
Just loneliness and sorrow.
She has so much more to share.
But she never hoped for tomorrow.

At a time I offered her a plan:
Something to help still suicidal hands.
I requested that she release with ease.
She accepted then released pleasantries;
Still withholding from me, nothing;
I sat in horror of stories that included barter,
Explained long ago the thing
was pride she had swallowed
Then hopeless eyes peered at me;
Pleading to leave the judgments behind
while she stood before me.
How can I resist a face so heavenly?

I gave her levity.
Her heart hang heavily;
Sinking down beneath her soul.
No balance. No control.
She wasn't clay for me to mold
Or a story to be told.
Most left her out in the cold;
But she was a sight to behold.
She was so much more to me;
More than others cared to see.
She doesn't need charity.
She needs someone to help her be.
She deserves the best from life.
She endured her share of strife.
No more emotional gashes.
It's time to get rid of the knife.

Incandescent was her stance of life.
She wiped out any indecorum with a pipe.
I hoped only as her savior,
I can reverse this erratic behavior.
She'd get though the night
in a stuporous state
To wake you with streams
of tears on her face.
Listening, my heart filled with distaste......
That's when I knew no longer
could she win any race alone.
So I decided to take up
first place in her life
I decided to illuminate her path
I decided to be the hand
that she can hold.

She cried a myriad of tears;
drowning herself to sleep at night,
but dry eyes purge fear;
so I offered her sunlight.
She needed someone to side with;
not just someone she can ride with.
I've no desire to dive in.
I just need her to confide in me.
She is so much more
than she'll allow herself to be.
A world of blessings are in store.
I know that nothing is earned free;
but she can transcend potential.
She can go further than possibility.
With or without the credentials,
she can enjoy the liberty
of knowing that her life
is no longer marred with the pain
caused by her past decisions.
There's so much for her to gain.

We dance to the tunes
of the marrowy facts
that at last life
has turned around,
There's no looking back.
Our first step forward
as we move toward the
life that I promised
as we push onward
I smiled knowing that
this decision was final;
the security she found in me,
the solace in we.
She and I trudged
up what was rocky
Happily we come to a place
where we could be free.
Finally.

Our undeniable, everlasting affirmation
was the fact that there is a destination;
no matter the route of navigation
or what form of intricate formation.
She relinquished most of her sanity
for a life of shame and vanity;
but when given a second chance,
she found a love that was uncanny.
It's ever so easy to backslide
when the ceiling greets your backside;
but when given the chance to stand,
she found where she should reside.
No more abiding by the rules
of a litany of unsavory tools
that drool as she warms bar stools.
Life is no longer minuscule.
There's so much beauty to be found
when looking at the bigger picture.
Chain smokers have lost control
over when her light can flicker.
Love repaired her broken jaw
and healed her blackened eyes.
It may not hide her flaws;
but she no longer asks God why.
She willingly opened her heart
without having to part her legs.
I stretched out my loving arms
and she never had to beg.
A path cluttered with maybes
eventually brought us to together.
Time will plot our next direction
as we draw closer to forever. ♥

Written By: Allan Ricketts And Devin Joseph Metz

"Silent Screamers"

"Silent Screamers"

We no longer have voices.
You have lent us no ear.
We've faced our fears.
We've shed our tears.
So many years....
We've been around for awhile.
We've been openly defiled;
but all you'll see are smiles.
We've walked a million miles
and endured so many trials
It was so sweet at first.
Now, all that's left is bile.

We tread this wretched landfill:
Numbers spread wide across the earth;
wanting so bad to be your thrill.
We aimed to prove our worth.
We did all we could:
Made you feel good,
listened when we should,
and so much more than most would.
We gave you more than enough.
We stuck by you when it got rough;
yet you still bound us in handcuffs.
Our blackened eyes could see no bluffs.

So now that the noise is killed,
we've no need for your drills.
We no longer wish to fit the bill.
You'll beg us for every shrill.....

But your requests will not be granted.
Our feelings are dead. No more enchantment.
Cloaks of darkness cover our heads
and our feet are firmly planted.

 You look at us every day;
but you know not what you see.
We will not go away.
We offer you no liberty.

We are the losers:
The ones slammed against walls
and dragged down dark halls
if you suspect us as accusers.

We are the children of drug abusers
who go days with nothing to eat.
Dozens of dollars reserved for users;
but no shoes to protect our feet.

We were once beautiful hearts
that you stole and tore apart,
scratched and picked at for sport
and flung around like darts.

We are the Mothers
struggling to raise sisters and brothers
that never receive the assistance
that you gleefully grant others.

We are the little girls
that you forced into your bed
after placing fear in our minds
and a pistol to our heads.

We are the best friends
that you held so deep inside
until you incurred new trends
and said that we can't coincide.

We are the blind.
The left behind.
The disregarded.
Swiftly discarded.
We are the forgotten.
The ones that you've deemed rotten.
The rugged and downtrodden.
The ones that could not win.

We are the helpful neighbors
that you've granted no favors.
This sullen clan of the bland
that you've stripped of all flavor.
Nothing is left for you to savor.
Nothing remains that you can claim.
We have imparted years of labor.
You don't even remember our names.

We are the lowly;
the ones who move slowly.
We took part in all of your games
and you only offered shame.

We are....
We were.....

We have come to take charge
against the guilty souls at large.

Black runs through our veins.
Darkness is our domain.
We quietly walk these plains
with power that can't be contained.
We will cause no physical pain.
There will be no blood stains.
You will implore that we abstain;
but we will remain.

So much was yours to gain;
now fear ravages your brain.
The guilt can't be contained.
You'll run out into the rain.
You'll cry out for help
whilst we wander in stealth.
You can't run from yourself.
Sick souls in need of health:
For every body you've bludgeoned,
You will receive their welts.
You'll stare at the rain soaked sky
in futile hopes of drowning yourself.

With bloodshot, misty eyes
and a mind filled with shame,
you will ask God why.
That's when you'll remember our names....

.....but we no longer have names.
We don't see your tears.
Lest you forget: We have no voices.
You wouldn't lend us your ears.
We will not revoke your fears.
We only serve as reminders.
Your stale remorse is of no use.
We are no longer care providers.

Our hearts are as black and bleak
as the wounds that used to leak.
Your love we used to seek;
but now, you've never looked so weak.
The boisterous will become meek
as we taunt and haunt all dreamers
but we will not talk or speak:
Both we and thee are silent screamers.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Numbers"

"Numbers"


It took ten steps
to find my ninth wonder;
but it wasn't a figure eight.
It never looks that great.
I may need all seven days
to figure out how to get back;
and I'm nowhere near together.
I'm a few cans from a six pack.
I never got that fifth chance.
The fourth one was for free.
From what I've gathered, I can see
why two stands between me and three.


We don't get along well;
so three stays away from me
because one is the loneliest 
and three is company.
I spend most of my time
thinking about the number two.
That's my friend and confidant.
She's my favorite number, too.
She's was my first second glance.
She may be my last second chance.
She always gives me another pass
and puts extra cubes in my glass.


But still.....
I often fear
that I might be her first tear
or her last one.
I don't want my last flaw
to be the last straw.
It can't end like that.
That's way too raw.
I mean.....
Is it still love at first sight
if I got it on the first night?
Is she not first rate
if we slept together on the first date?


And what about me?
What if I find a three
that pulls her away from me?
Am I wrong for what I see?
I don't need five senses
to know I don't need five wives
and I'm not into climbing fences
to preserve what's left of nine lives.
If four is too square for me,
Would I take three the hard way?
Am I willing to avoid those six degrees
and still rest the seventh day?


I'm so far from completion.
I'm closer to deletion.
There's no degree of satiation
derived from problematic multiplication.
I can offer her cloud nine
to keep her from having to wonder
if my motives are defined
while I continue doing numbers.


I met her in the summer.
We've endured the winter;
but I have to check my math
if we will make it past December.


I'm far from a beginner.
I just resemble a cynic
because it's hard to find my center
when engaged in arithmetic.


At the end of this countdown
lies liberty or lock down.
She will smile or frown
contingent upon what comes around.


Even if it takes ten tries
and all nine of my lives,
I'll make sure that I'm not late.
She deserves that figure eight.
I can't get her to heaven;
but she will get that seven.
She deserves completion;
not the emptiness of depletion.
I don't need to mix
or try to juggle six.
I'm not stacking bricks.
I need not try to fix.
I just need to strive
and draw close to five stars.
Sometimes, it seems like I'm on mars;
but I'm not placed behind bars.
I want to give her much more
than the allotted four score.
I don't want forty years
if each day is filled with tears.
Every wholesome possibility
begins and ends with three:
A stronger she, a better me
and he who watches over we.
Two halves of one heart
should never remain apart
but everything begins with one.
That's where it has to start.


We are more than nickels and dimes.
We transcend space and time
with minds filled with wonder
and hearts brimming with numbers. <3

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"My Friend. Your Reflection. Our Identity."

"My Friend. Your Reflection. Our Identity."


Eyes dim. 
Ears closed shut.
Mouth,
Nostrils,
Arms,
and Heart wide open.
You're sprung.
That's why your head is hung.


Clear the slate.
Start over.
Let's begin again:
Hello, friend.
I'm still here.
Remember me?
Forgot my name?
What happened to we?
We're not the same;
and I'm not surprised.
You ignored what was truly vital
in your hunger for a title.


You have the nerve to be spiteful.
When it's no longer delightful
and you aren't winning the game,
you evenly disperse the blame...


...well, almost even.
Your convictions are unbalanced.
Your skewed perception is challenged
because your priorities were mismanaged.
Now wherein lies the damage
when you say that it's okay
until you can no longer hide away?
That's when you fear the fray.


That's when you want to abstain
and go against the grain;
saying you're done with all the pain;
but you pretend to break the chains.


You hold on for dear life.
"That's my future wife!"
That's just your baby's daddy;
but you miss him badly.


You're so brute and manly
as long as she is by your side;
but let her choose new paths,
and all that strength is cast aside.
She'd rather park than ride;
but you want to drive through
and when she won't confide,
you never question what's inside you.


You've lost your true essence.
You appear weak in her presence.
She used to scream your name;
but she's become something you can't tame.


You sit there in the stands.
You were his biggest fan
until he outgrew your demands
and erased you from his plans.


You relinquished your signature
when you elected to become a fixture.
You whip up that mixture
and consume the entire elixir.
You call it love potion.
It's full of those emotions
spiked to their highest level
and you drink til you're unsettled.


You stumble in delirium
and compromise your equilibrium
until you've had your fix;
but you still want to mix.


Disobedient to self.
Gleefully obeying your desire.
You've signed up for this position
and now find it hard to retire.
 You cater to the will
and the wiles
and the trials
all the while
wondering why
it feels pointless to trust a try.
Your eyes are never dry
and they never meet the sky.


You fixate them to the ground.
So customary is your frown.
Your issues are standard issue.
You're so used to looking down.


He does not miss you.
She isn't coming around.
She never really noticed.
His heart isn't where you're bound.


Break away
if you can.
It's not about being a man
or trying to take a stand.
Your demands mean nothing
if she never opened her hand.


Find a way
instead of crying another day.
Stop begging him to stay.
Keep your fears at bay.
It matters not what you say.
You can't make him your hideaway.


Come here.
Look at me.
Look at we.
What do you see?
I see what you should want to be.
Touch me.
Want me.
Flaunt me.
Feel me.
Love me.
Only put God above me.
You serve no one.
Make no man your master.
You are shining strength.
Let no woman make you a disaster.
You were before
and will be after.


Come close.
Open you eyes.
Don't you see?
This is me.
I am you.
We are we.
Remember me?
What's my name?
What's your claim?
You are prestige.
You are fame.


Now walk away
as you start anew today
and every time you take a glance,
I'll look exactly the same way.




I will offer no objection.
I require no covert detection.
There's no need for inspection.
I am your reflection.


I am not divinity;
but you are no obscenity.
This is what will always be.
We are Identity.


Never forsake me.
Always love we. <3

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz