"Pretty Pearl Necklace"

"Pretty Pearl Necklace"

She takes it on the chin
With a cute, playful grin;
Running fresh on her chest
As it rests on her skin.

I stand tall against the wall
And extend my long neck
For her long neck.
Cute face.
Big hips.
Nice lips.
Wet tongue.
Warm neck.

Her palms sweat
And her cheeks swell.
Eyes well with tears.
Mine from the ringing
That fills my ears
When she begins to hum.
Hers from me treating
Her voice box like a drum.

Percussion with precision.
Neighbors love to listen.
She just makes it glisten.
She doesn't ask for permission.
Nothing beats a tongue bath
From such a filthy mind.
She kept her plan in mind
While I took her from behind.

Nothing more to find.
No test of my physique.
Just a fist full of hair
And a slow grind technique.
She says it's no fun
Until her makeup runs
And when I find my target,
She'll help empty the gun.

She's nasty.
She's so damn classy.
Curls ringing wet with sweat
And her attitude is sassy.
She wants it badly.
She knows the directives.
She just adds her touch
To make sure she's effective .

Those tonsils are colossal
And when she closes her throat,
She takes it full throttle.
I see why she gloats.

She lets me take her
For
A
Ride

As I stare at her
Beautifully
Bare
Backside .

She just opens wide.
She wants me to glide.
Tongue moves side to side.
I just have to slide.

She wont close her eyes.
She won't miss a second.
Saying "I'll take this one first;
But I'll be back for seconds…"

A force to be reckoned.
She won't let me free.
She devours me in sections.
She can't wait to see…

…………………………………………
…………………………………………
…………………………………………
…………………………………………

My soul just ran away.
All that I had lobbied
Is now on bright display
Across most of her body.
All she does is smile.
She enjoyed the show.
I just lost a pile.
She just lets it flow.
She loosens her grip.
I convulse and trip.
She licks her lips.
She let's it drip.

As she cleans the tip,
She says that she's impressed.
Amid a slow rub and caress,
It goes well with her dress.
I guess that makes me presidential.
She's my mistress and first lady;
Because she's so instrumental
In being the boss's baby.

The alpha male
Delivers all the mail
To the main lady.
She wears me like chain mail:
Good gravy.
Goo.
Batter.
It doesn't matter…………

…………when I see that chin
With that cute, playful grin,
That bright, glossy chest
And that wet, glistening skin……

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Mission Statement: Society Of Poets"

"Mission Statement: Society Of Poets"

Found love in a rhapsody.
Everything I would become
Laid its groundwork after me.
Might have been more than love.
It think it was life, actually.
It shaped how I approach things
And rearranged my faculties.
No one can take that from me.

Found love in a rhythm.
A rite of passage.
Not just a routine,
Ritual or rhyme scheme.
Every path will be different;
Even if we share the same dream.
I learned that one incurs limits
By just focusing on the theme;
So I look for substance instead
Because if status clouds your head,
You won't remember what you've said.
Your words are better off dead;
Stretched wide across ridiculous themes
Crucified by unnecessary limits
That have openly chocked your dreams.
A path of gimmicks is never different.
The same ritual and rhyme scheme
That fell victim to some routine.
Invoke your own rite of passage.
Love the rhythm in your means.

I'm good if few know me.
I'm so far from Phenom
And much closer to mystery;
So I'll be the enigma.
Can't trace my steps.
Can't recognize my signature.
I've observed how overexposure
Can be a damning expenditure.

I buffer light when I write.
It's on display all day
And it glows so bright at night.
I've yet to lose my way.
Words I've yet to write,
Things I've yet to say,
Soldier willing to fight
For those willing to pray
On behalf of the many
That some see as the few:
Those who ran out of paper
For the picture that they drew,
Grief stricken with labor
Desperately hoping for something new,
Bloodshot eyes that cry
When their thoughts cannot be processed,
I write love in lieu of them.
I'm dedicated. I might be obsessed.

You can't take this from me.
There's some levity in my faculties.
I've learned how to approach life.
I give it back actually.
This is my labor of love:
Groundwork that thrives after me.
You never know what you'll become
Until you find love in a rhapsody.

Whether salty tears are savored
Or you tend to smile and grin,
Never throw away your paper
And don't dare abuse your pen.

Protect and promote your craft.
Take pride in how you show it.
Denounce the crass for working class.
Create a Society Of Poets.

Written by: Devin Joseph Metz

"Dirty Photos And Dream Catchers"

"Dirty Photos And Dream Catchers"

Dreamt about you last night.
Yeah I know: Fancy that, right?
Went back some years
To our umbrella under moonlight,
Our favorite spot to eat late night
And long embraces met by sunlight.

I really miss that.
I guess I did act
Like it would surely leave me.
I know it's never that easy.

Not when thoughts of you
That were once among the few
That used to vex me daily
Are now all that soothes the ailing;
The sailing of a soul
Across an ocean of mediocrity;
Gentle winds yet choppy waters.
Diving in won't purge hypocrisy;
So I try to stay afloat
Until I reluctantly land
Into the cold lap of lovers;
Bound to slip through their hands.

Perception resembles chain links:
Joined at the arms without hands,
Pulled from both ends as it stands,
Intertwined in a much larger plan,
Forever bound by intricate means.
No deliberate charge of contact;
But our heartstrings coil in unison
So far away yet still intact.

That was my daydream.
I felt your touch;
But you were so far away.
It was such a rush
To say it was just mid day.
I could taste you
Yet I never faced you.
Lines I couldn't trace through.

Stuck there in my chair
With thoughts of you straddling me.
Two hands full of your hair
As we engage in battle playfully.
I willingly lose this tussle
As I succumb to thigh muscle.
This is too much to contain;
But you know I love the pain.

It was just a familiar strain.
Nothing real for me to gain.
Just a lonely closed office
And garments riddled with stains.

It's almost too dangerous to think.
I must sever these chain links;
But I'm on the fence instead.
To this day, you remain in my head.

Sent you a text a few hours ago.
Was headed to our spot.
Wondered if you wanted to go.
Hoped that you were in town.
Not like you'd come around.
We both had our convictions,
But my addiction tracks you down.
I need serious help.

Found those explicit photos.
They lay beneath some socks.
Small memorials to concealed lust.
I kept the keys to those locks.
Said I'd engulf them in flames,
But I remember pet names.
Said I'd cut them into pieces,
But this host still harbors leeches.

Told you I have a problem.
Try as I may,
I relive our past every night
And dash my future during the day;
But I've planned my getaway.
It's foolproof. It never fails.
Nocturnal musings that come my way
Will follow what hangs from this nail.

I'll sleep good tonight.
No cottonmouth or cold sweat.
No bed sheets left sticky and wet.
No lustful mind struggling with regret…

But thoughts are still in my head.
Daily tents are pitched in my bed.
I still haven't changed the locks.
I mailed you what was under the socks…

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"(Enter)[View]"

"(Enter)[View]"

I'm through wondering.
I'm done asking you why
It's so hard to avoid
Getting yourself into trouble.
When I get ready to leave,
That's when your efforts double.
If it looks like I just may go,
You say "No!" and hope I move slow.

That's how it used to be.
That's how I used to see;
But nothing hurts more
Than what you used to do to me.
See, I know how it feels
To lick emotional scars;
But your cuts will never heal
You're in the dirt. I'm behind bars.

Murder in the first degree.
That's what they heard from me.
This little girl mad at the world
Was on a killing spree.
See, the unholy truth, baby
Is that I'm a very angry lady.
Deep seated behind this smile
Is a child that was reviled.

Mother never really developed
To look quite like me;
So she would call me ugly
and say no one would like me.
She used to fight me.
I dodged the pots and pans.
Of course the judge would indict me
For having her cleaver in my hands.

That wasn't long ago.
There's so much more to show.
Aside from a jealous mother,
My big brother stole the show.
He never helped in my school fights.
He closed his door on most nights
When my stepfather hit the lights
Like it would hinder my sight.

My brother knew about it.
Mother did too;
So he can't take all of the blame.
He was a kid, too.
All that pounding and thrusting
From a man who was lusting
After a ten year old child.
Tell me, mom. Was it worthwhile?

Was it that vile?
Was it grotesque
For you to sit there staring
While your man gave me his best?
When you fell to your knees
With your blood spreading like disease,
He rose up and yelled out "please!"
"Just end this now! Leave all at ease!"

He was such a tease;
Even when he was older.
He lost most of his strength;
But he still has those broad shoulders.
He used to mount and pin me.
Now with the rage within me,
I straddled him, tied his wrists
And gutted him like a fish.

This is real to me.
None of it fictitious.
Nothing these days is more delicious
Than what's violent and vicious.
I used to loathe this anger.
Now it's become my best friend.
I suppose I'm no longer a stranger.
Hell, my legacy may never end.

Sent a letter to my brother's family
Offering condolences and sympathy.
Since I was there when he drowned,
I thought I would find some empathy.
I've always been alone.
Never vicarious in nature;
But if he were on this phone,
Would that suddenly change the flavor?

Does it really even matter
That a woman let the blood splatter?
Does it make you sadder?
What happened to the laughter?
No time for blues, right?
You wanted news, right?
I've paid my dues, right?
Here is your muse. Write.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Phoenix † Force "

"Phoenix † Force "

Nexus of the galaxy.
Harbinger of Hellfire.
Seed of triumph and tragedy.
That which is feared and desired.
Higher than perception.
At home with misconception
Void of all discretion,
Yet revered in recollection.

She has many names
And has taken countless forms.
She will not be tamed
By mere gusts and thunderstorms.
She does not thirst for fame.
She only seeks to feed the flames;
Leaving dust among all plains.
Consumed whole. Little remains.

Wicked Wyvern of wrath
Wreaking havoc in her path.
Waging war against no faction.
All who dare oppose are snatched;
Enveloped and engulfed
By a wall of searing heat.
Her presence is not discreet;
But few live to recall defeat.

She has been dispersed
To the corners of the universe.
She's been torn into gashes
And left among the ashes;
But nothing can contain
That which anchors in existence.
Those who will not refrain
Will soon regret their persistence.

Dust begins to slowly to steam
The sand starts to cream.
The heavens rip at their seams
From one sky splitting scream.
How dare you face your nightmare
And wish that it was a dream?!?!
That grimace between blank stares
Pushes your fear to new extremes.

We treat destruction like seduction:
I acknowledge her desire
To invoke violent eruptions
In a lust to feed our fire.
None are exempt from judgement:
Be it those who plant the seeds
To fulfill their own needs
Or righteous souls void of greed.

Your eyes begin to widen.
You find a place to hide in.
Her blue surface burns white.
She devours remnants of light.
The stars are chased away.
Her wings eclipse the sun.
This will be your last day.
She and I are now one.

Black Angel.
Chaos Bringer.
Child born of the void
Between what dissipates and lingers.
Engine of extinction
That transcends royal distinction.
Conduit of conviction
Claiming universal affliction.

You may attempt to resist;
But your time is overdue.
We will erase all that exists.
It will start or end with you. P†F

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz