Saturday, October 29, 2011



I swear it's the hardest part:
All the signs of us growing apart
when a dusty old movie scene
was once something clear and pristine;

And as the dust is blown,
all of our good memories fade.
As the old oak is buffed,
I see that not much at all is saved.
This realization is emblazoned:

Scorched across the cranium,
melded to my medulla
are those scathing times and trials
where I became the slave
and she was the ruler.

Foolish her;
but the bigger fool is me;
pleading for hollow sympathy
with recesses full of iniquities
that have stolen the essence of me.

The best of me is trapped
between a smaller me
that still laps up wounds
and a larger me
that may relapse soon.
Why do I still swoon?!?!

Why do I sit and croon;
resembling the hounds
that howl at the moon
as if that which we had
will return again soon?
Am I the loon? Am I?

Do what you must.
Save me.
Tell me that I'm crazy,
my methods of coping are lazy
and how much it shouldn't faze me.
If that doesn't work, tase me.

Shock me into submission.
Render me numb to my subscription
of unsavory retention
that is less like passion
and more like perdition.

Demand my undivided attention.
Cave me;
forging a path to my new mission.
Pave me.
Send me on a brighter expedition.
I know you won't enslave me.
Give me love; not an exhibition.
Save me. ♥

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Sunday, October 23, 2011

"Roll Back(From The Future)"

"Roll Back(From The Future)"

My peers lend their ears
to the cold, hard concrete.
I'm too grand to be discreet;
So I lace up and plant my feet:

Young minds are wrapped
within the streets like sheets.
Souls scrape like soles against brillo.
They drag their dreams like pillows;
letting their heads mop the floor
but there is nothing clean
about a shot up liquor store
and a bloodied crime scene.
They robbed them once way back;
but on their way back,
they were ready to spray back.
They should've just stayed back....

.....Run the tape back.

Across the street from the crime,
a few feet from the scene
walked a gem dressed as a dime.
She started out as a teen:

Can't keep a low profile
when you're up an down the timeline.
She once started for awhile;
but always finished on the sideline.
Happiness was hard to find.
With her emotions much maligned,
she adopted a change of heart
and would let nothing change her mind.
It was difficult to look past
the murky musings of her past.
She grew tired of finishing last;
so she lived her life fast.
Every day was a mad dash.
She would flaunt and flash,
let men smack, squeeze and smash
and then lay there; counting cash.
A country girl with thick legs
as sweet and plump as watermelon:
The daughter of a deceased father
who can only cry from heaven....

....Choke those tears back.

Most of her money was taxed
to a man who never hustled.
He held verbal contracts
and his crew was his muscle.
They have the occasional tussle;
but she always called back
only to soon crawl back,
spread her legs and fall back.

His band of brothers
are the sons of weeping mothers
who gave up their freedom
so they could enslave each other.
He portrays the pusher.
They take place as the runners.
His shadowy figure looms
as they breach private rooms,
but he always wanted more;
"so dey broke down de door
and let da gunshots roar
on de Blood Clot dance floor....

....Pon De Replay."

So many lost lives
still try to run this relay
of fly-by-night fortune;
sacrificing themselves each day.

They try their best to hide away;
but their shame won't shy away.
They could work hard to find a way;
but they just waste their lives away.
Their choices have paved the way
that many may look to follow;
closing themselves within walls;
free falling until they are swallowed:
Devoured whole; but never spit back.
Street life intrigues every "him"
and it surely seduces every "her."
I wish that we could roll back....

....because I don't want to see the future.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Wednesday, October 19, 2011



You polish those cuticles
from behind your little cubicle
and still find time to message me.
You let no deaf ear rest on me.
You seem to save the best for me
whilst others chase you desperately.
You ask for me especially.
Maybe you've seen the depth in me.
Well, there's no concise recipe;
but you still ask what's my deal.
Come here. Sit next to me.
I'll show you it feels
to be in the presence
of what many men lack.
Release your cares and lay back.
Lose the limelight. Become black.

Not much is made of lunch;
but I'm too hungry not to munch.
We disappeared after the meeting.
Your nosy girlfriends might have a hunch;
but I'm not concerned about that.
I just need you to fall back.... a matter of fact,
put that arch in your back
as I fondle those lovely follicles.
Fingertips take trips through hair
as things shift from quaint to volatile
the moment eyes lock and stare.
Your exude vanity; yet remain so fair.
To be honest, I'm slightly taken aback:
Your beauty transcends compare;
but I want a view in black.

Your black door and fancy bell
leads you down the stairwell.
My lungs may start to swell
as I take in that familiar smell.
I follow you to your room
and you make room on your bed
as I just shake my head
between words that are said...'s pretty safe to say
that I'm completely blown away:
I just love the way
you look in black lingerie.
You rub in that shea butter
after bathing in black soap with pearls,
black lips blow black polish on black nails
as your fingers loop through black curls.
They say the devil wears Prada;
but Satan's mistress would confess
to being hot under the collar
at the sight of your black dress.

I guess I came prepared:
Tightly braided hair,
three piece black suit
and dark cufflinks. Two pair.
Black belt to match the shoes,
black vest to match the socks,
and a black tie with designs
that compliment my black watch.
Cool Water is my fragrance;
but tonight it's Polo Black.
The lights are dimmed slightly.
The club is far from packed;
so let's find a place to sit.
I'm more glimmer than grit.
I'm more than charm and wit.
I have no game to spit.
You claim to know what I want
as you twist and taunt.
I just step and grip
while you continue to flaunt.
I won't lie to you:
I can't help but draw near
and whisper in your ear
things you never thought you'd hear.
Words may take you on a ride;
but I'm bound for deeper strides
as we grind and glide
through this floor of black heels and ties.
There's no need for inebriation.
I'm wrapped within the sensation
that comes from the elation
you exude with each gyration.
Drunken and dizzy without libation,
we gracefully move without concentration
until this dimly lit dance floor
gives way to illumination....

Hearts race under the moonlight.
Minds too cluttered to think.
As long as it feels right,
All I care to do is sink
deep within this shining abyss;
eyes closing upon each kiss
as it would be quite a remiss
to ever think to desist.
This is what is made of we.
Open your eyes. Look at me.
I've often thought about this day.
Listen to what I have to say:

I never thought
I'd see the day
that such a marvel
would come my way.
I had to mention
the things you say
always grab my attention;
even when you're away.
I'm captivated.
I'm aggravated.
I can barely take it;
but I'll navigate it.
I'll carefully cover these plains;
meticulously moving through membranes,
feeling every fiber, grazing every grain;
placing lips near hips to be stained.
I love the way you shine.
Your body is my shrine.
If you let me cross that line,
I promise to take my time.
If you will take the chance,
I'll make it worth the wait.
I know it's dark inside;
but I can see straight...
...straight through your inhibitions...
...let my hands send the transmissions
that place your fears under submission
as they fade into remission.
I have to tell you.
No better time than now
to wrap you in this warmth.
I'll show you how.......

Close the blinds.
I'll walk behind.
No need to lead the blind
when I'm all you'll need to find.
Kill the lights.
Does it feel right?
Sharpen your senses
in the stillness of this night.
Close the door.
Feet off of the floor.
This bed is our ocean.
Let me guide you to shore.
This is serious.
I'm far from delirious.
I have all my faculties.
I want you in full capacity.
Close your eyes.
Sever all the ties
that are bound to uncertainty.
This is the certain we.
Just take in deep breaths
whilst I take slow steps
up and down this chasm
yearning for more than an orgasm.
Can you even fathom
something so stark
as a traveling mind and body
surveying you in the dark?

Take me to your fill.
Don't cut me any slack.
Take full control of your will.
Don't worry about covering tracks.

Embrace that which you hold dear;
but don't bother looking back.
This world will soon disappear.
All that remains will be black...

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz