Thursday, April 12, 2012

"Vantage Point: Withering Roses"

"Vantage Point: Withering Roses"

This long winded Word Smith
Uses long fingers and big hands.
Would stand on the block;
But I've got big plans.
No time to kick rocks.
I'm trying to pick the socks
That match the tie and vest
That rests upon my chest.

Would let my pants sag;
But I'm a grown man.
Can't judge your progress
If I'm not on, man.
Might not like the process;
But trust me. I understand.
Trying to do more with less
Has never been grand.

Would have taken advantage;
But I'm not that guy.
Lustful souls are deemed famished
When circumstances pass by.
Would be the other man,
But I'm not that petty.
People do what they can
When they know they aren't ready.

Would take part in your scheme,
But I'm moving already.
Never needed a team
To be balanced or steady.
That's no forceful resistance.
I've never been that stubborn.
I am not your dependent;
But I'm okay with being governed.

Would take part in gossip;
But I don't like to murmur.
We stretch the excess further.
That's why it leads to murder.
Would spend most of my time
Proving I'm better than you;
But I'll never be convinced
that there isn't more to do.

Would say "No Homo;"
But I don't tuck my balls.
I don't have to "Pause;"
I stand next to my flaws.
That bike chain and thermal
Will not make you eternal.
Expensive shoes and colored flags
Mean less than those jeans you drag.

Would rather remain solo
Than take part in the promo
And since legends last forever,
I may never say "YOLO."
Don't need to join the guild
To make me want to build.
Don't need to be objectified
In order to feel justified.

Would wax on my misfortunes;
But I welcome the adversity.
The brilliant are forever resilient.
Decide what your worth will be.
Those who talk about my limits
Will find themselves working for me.
No profit for useless critics.
They waste their time for free.

Would offer an apology;
But I must condemn atrocities.
Don't brag about life sentences.
I barely notice your apostrophes.
Why act as if being predicate
Is an unprecedented rarity?
It's not synonymous with celibate;
So stop reaching for charity.

Would withhold this clarity;
But pulled punches lend no credence.
You are living your own legacy.
Don't fall victim to impedance.

I won't excuse your age
And I can't contain your rage
And I would beg you to read this;
But you're free to turn the page.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Thursday, April 5, 2012

"Conscious Confidence"

"Conscious Confidence"

Just veer left or right.
Quit trying to work the median.
The difference between wrong and right
Makes you an asshole or comedian
And since we're being honest,
I never thought you were funny.
It's like you take the stage,
Grab the mic and make your money.
You need the negative attention.
I bet you crave the cat calls
But what follows your ascension?
What happens when the stacks fall?
I know you're not surprised.
Lord knows you've thought about it;
So before you cut your eyes,
Consider what life's like without it.

Unknown how this will end,
So for now, i will pray;
Not for that of my sins
But that you'll see things my way.
The highway is what remains
When you go against the grain.
You've quickly become the bane of my very existence.
Resistance is futile.
Please pardon the cliche;
But the limelight is mine
And it is here I will stay.
Nothing can really be
If it's not about me;
Know that this budding rivalry
Only feeds my vanity.

Vanity is insanity.
The prelude to calamity.
How could you stand to be
Part of such a profound travesty?
Gladly playing your games
As if it will bolster fame,
Ignoring what follows your name,
Not even acknowledging the shame
Of being half-assed.
Social outcast
Running your route fast
As if you doubt it will last.
You owe the crowd better.
They're beginning to get angry.
They may chant my name.
I'd advise you not to blame me.

History admires the brazen and brave.
It's the modest and the meek
That dream of living this way.
Such a slip of the mind...
What again is your name????

Never mind...

Let me offer you insight:
Why I think this way
When I look in the mirror
I see that I'm bold,
Cold and calculated
When pursuing my goals.
This wasn't always the case.
In my days as a lad,
Faced with circumstances
Understated as bad.
Hide your tears, Argentina.
I don't do sympathy.
My "bad guy" demeanor
Is what I use to succeed.
Never half assed
When performing a task.
*hits send on the computer
As he sips from flask*

Man, remove the mask!
As a matter of fact, just pause:
They damn near shake the stage.
"Let's have a warm round of applause!"
They anticipate my presence
Like a long awaited debut.
You've misplaced that true essence.
You don't make the rules. They do.
They who remember every word,
Every quote, every phrase
Every note, countless days
Spent on one who couldn't care less.
You offer women bare chest;
But you're missing that backbone.
You're a novelty at best.
Leave that attitude at home.

Sir, I am at home in this zone.
*Adjusts self on the throne*
Where the crown rests is home.
Yes,I am a rolling stone.
Your long awaited debut
Will be hard very to find.
The slot that was prime-time
Was confiscated as mine.
They root for the bad guy
But are afraid to admit.
They're seduced by the dark side.
The Force is STRONG in this kid.
Even after my last breath,
The stage will remain a mess;
Fully Wrecked.
Those who dare to follow
Can only show me respect.

Relax. Get comfy.
Tip your crown like a king.
Raise your scepter. Flash your rings.
It really doesn't mean a thing.
I'm too violent for the throne....
*Lends the crowd his microphone*
"DON'T STOP! FLOW ON!"
"TALK SHIT! GO ON!"
That crowd has no fear.
Is it getting hard to hear?
I don't suspect they'll drop tears
for one trapped in his wonder years.
No more mic check.
No more "La Di Da Di."
Just a coastal shipwreck
for anyone standing beside me.

My vengeance and righteous anger
Were formed from nights cried,
Equally violent thoughts
And actions justified;
Supplied by a past
Of shame and grief
And that of a childhood
That was far too brief.
First Row, church pew, Fall 1993.
Blue Suit, Black shoes, me age 13.
Pretty Flowers, kind words, Selections A&B.
There I sat with my father;
Hearing my mothers Eulogy.
I was full of fear,
But on my father, I could lean.
That was until he perished when I reached 19.
So it is easy to think
That I am destined to lose.
Thoughts that I combat
By making my own rules.

Damn, dude. You drop jewels
from a pool most won't swim through.
You appeal to what you feel.
I key in on what you've been through.
Lose the pro tools.
Turn the record off.
And for the record,
man, the lecture's off.
Take the center stage.
Stand tall against your misery.
Channel that inner rage.
Let it mesh with your delivery.
Make light of that dark energy.
Let it serve you well;
There's haters in the vicinity.
It's time to give 'em hell.

Old habits die hard.
Scars remain, I guess.
Repressed negative stress
Exposed my hopelessness.
I put to rest recklessness.
I now share the stage.
I shed my vanity.
The crowd is chanting your name.
We are one in the same:
The yin and the yang.
When in perfect balance,
Evil is put to shame.
Confidence and conscious
Have conquered the nonsense.
I put to rest my pen
Fully knowing we won this...

Locked up and Shot down.
Lunged forth and shut down;
but never out of luck;
so either gather round or duck.
Blue, Black and White
runs through our veins tonight.
You will likely lose your sight
as we begin to take flight.
You can't gather our reigns
and we won't erase the stains
smeared across our tortured souls.
We lose blood but gain control.
So conscious is our confidence.
We know you can't conceive it;
so just bask in the brush fire
of The Red Swan and The Blue Phoenix.

Written By: The Red Swan(Jason Abbitt) and The Blue Phoenix(Devin Joseph Metz)