Monday, July 30, 2012

"In Confidence"

"In Confidence"

You say you don't know;
But I'm convinced you know better.
Your frequent freestyles
Flow fresh like love letters.
Was taught to see and believe;
But the display case deceives.
If I roll back your sleeves,
Your pulse provides premise.
Short abbreviations bred of more.
Novels galore.
Others will call it a bore.
I want to live in the store.
I want to hold hands
While we converse about past plans.
Your last man is of little importance.
Just divulge your dreams for reassurance.
It doesn't cleave to cry.
Free those eyes.
No sign of forfeit.
Loving tears trace a radiant portrait.
More or less,
I request the opportunity
to go toe to toe.
Let me challenge your stress.
No advantage is best.
No weakness is doom.
The playing field is level;
But two will leave this room.
Only darkness will remain.
You see, misery is vain.
She breaks the light switch
Because she can't clean the stains.
She won't break the chains.
She fancies shackles for bracelets,
Chokes herself with her necklace
And swears that it makes sense.
She wants your company.
You don't need to know why.
She'd prefer you didn't wonder.
Just lay down and cry;
But sunlight peeks bright
Beneath all of the shade.
Snatch off the sunglasses.
Toss them to the masses.
Exes might catch the shade
Like money shot magic.
The response will be subliminal.
It's not critical. Just tragic.
Not even worth your time.
Fine wine and expensive taste.
You're more than spare change;
So my receipt was misplaced.

You say you forgot about it;
But recall it all the same.
Barely chill. Hardly tame.
Lost the will to fight your flames.
Best believe I peep game
Without using the cheat codes.
I call it clairvoyance.
The kids call it beast mode.
Some women sharpen tone
In response to such things.
Others use warp zones
Searching for gold rings.
You crave me?
You want me
To enslave thee?
Pace it, baby.
Time is of the essence
And I know we're growing old
And I know that momma said
Eat up before it gets cold;
But let's savor the vittles.
Slow simmer before we sizzle.
Dial it down a little.
I just love to nibble:
Napkin rests upon your lap
As we exchange table scraps:
Misshapen morsels of mishap,
Fragments of flavored fancy,
Sherry and brandy spilled
Over a table stained with thrills.
Smitten with your glamour.
Warm from sips between banter.
You fit the crease of higher seams:
Closely knit within your dreams
Double stitched with aspiration.
How you peak my fascination.
Reluctant glances at my wrist.
I guess it's time to resign.
Would've fancied a kiss;
But a hug is just fine.
Peace signs exchanged.
We go separate ways.
A week passed by.
Spirits still high.
Bitters still bottled.
Room still glows.
Recent moments are never hollow.
My battery stays low.
Fell asleep atop my sheets.
Pillows strewn everywhere.
Subtle hints of your fragrance
And a hand full of hair.

So fervent.
So fair.
So beautiful.
You confide in me.
You request atonement;
But I'll never condone it.
No need to displace.
Nothing to erase.
Quit hiding your face.
Shame no longer stains it.
Display that loving grace.
Don't you dare contain it.
I stare at your smile
And get lost for awhile.
It resembles a vintage view:
Memories retraced and renewed.
Times of tranquility dashed
By such a dark past.
Lovely longing eyes.
Somber sighs.
Left hand cups your face.
Can't turn away from grace.
Soft skin grazes the fingertips
That gently trace your lips.
Illuminated scene.
Air crisp and serene.
Floor cluttered with worries
Cast among the jeans.
Remember when?
Me neither.
No need to recall
Anything past these halls.
We lay within these walls
With no salvaged regret.
Rest well, love. Never fret.
Live to forgive. Learn to forget.

It's been so long
Since I've heard your love song.
Guitar strings of neglect,
Piano keys worn and wet
From liquor spilled and slung.
Fell from a thousand rungs
Just to climb another ladder.
Thank me in the latter.
It's the morning after.
Just enjoy the laughter.
You feared love like the rapture;
But light shines from the rafters.

When the past is tragic,
We cultivate destructive habits;
But as long as you are willing,
I'll show you that life is valid.

I promise. †EVL

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Monday, July 23, 2012

"Scrape The Sky"

"Scrape The Sky"

After hours in the grass
and I form fingertips;
pretending to capture images.
So used to this kind of intimate;
but not so much with you.
I wish to uncover you;
tiring of laying beneath
what keeps you so discreet.
I earnestly reach up high;
gently parting the clouds
as lovers would their eyes
in hopes of a better view.

I can't recall your countenance
or key in on what you resemble
but what happens in confidence
let's me know my hands are nimble.
I graze your fine skyline
like thread and thimble.
Your shape so fairly feline
but your skin smooth and simple.
Complex mental means and mixed dreams.
No solid semblance or scene.
Just faint reminders of slates unclean
sitting where the grass is green.

How poorly my memory serves me.
Truly unnerving.
Lord have mercy.
Forgive me.
I live lean;
leaving room for your saturation.
For the sake of fawn and fascination,
I ignore those who question maturation.
Some say you're a fabrication.
They claim that you aren't real;
but you transcend imagination.
I won't deny what I feel.

I let my hand linger
in the air like Gospel singers
or scorpions with sharp stingers
before I lick you off my fingers.
Such an amazing feat
I would proudly repeat
because your warmth greets my palm
with what tastes like expensive treats.
A milky way larger than Mars
better than milk chocolate marzipan
laced with maraschino marshmallows
dipped in Merlot and Moscato.

Dredged in syrup too sweet
for pancakes or waffles.
Dripping wild and free for me.
Deliciously coating fruit trees.
Magnificent decadence.
Such edible elegance
brings me to my knees
with an appetite Heaven sent;
So I've never had enough.
There's so much love to savor.
Extended hands are hardly labor
when reaching for your flavor.

I'll gladly be your skyscraper.
Keep me in your favor.
Time will never die.
With moist or dry eyes,
I will raise hands without shame.
I've no proof to claim.
You might not have a name;
but I love you all the same.
Thoughts of you shine bright
like street lights before the sun.
Even amid it's rays, I draw closer.
Make me your beholder.

Desire rests upon my shoulders.
I swear this air is colder.
The loneliness of weather
makes me wish I had feathers;
but I can only hope for wings.
This cold rain soaks and stings.
I'd relinquish worldly things
just to hear God's angels sing;
yet you just dangle on an angle.
At least that's how it appears.
I've stood on sheetrock and shingles
and I still can't see clear.

When I look up high,
can I scrape the sky
past the clouds that float
and the birds that fly?

When I look up high,
can I scrape the sky?
Collaborate with constellations
for a path drawing nigh?

When I look up high,
will you glance down low?
Will the planets align?
Will the galaxy glow?
Would God grant permission?
Would he allow you to go
to witness heartfelt renditions
of what I'll always show?
Can I show you forever?
With shoulders covered in feathers,
would you navigater weather
so we could be together?
If you have to leave,
will you ever come back?
I've rolled back my sleeves;
ready and willing to catch.

A gentle hiss flows
as the wind blows.
The softest of any kiss
never perched upon lips.
Dreaming of your hips.
Imagining your thighs.
From grassy plains, I take trips.
Mind slips and heart flies.

Onlookers will forever wonder why;
and until the day I die,
I'll chase that loving sigh.
till my life itself evaporates.
In search of you, I'll scrape the sky.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Friday, July 20, 2012

"(Synopsis): {Side}[Peace]"

"(Synopsis): {Side}[Peace]"

When will the lies end?
Likely after life ends.
Almost every heavy commitment
Comes with a few light friends:
"Oh. Okay. Alright. " friends
Who keep till the night ends.
Get home before morning
And hope they're still snoring.

Dumb ambition.
Retarded with the drive.
Treating Cupid like he's stupid
Just so they can "Feel Alive."
Their others are so significant
That they strategically show it;
Orchestrating sincerity and innocence
So that they always feel important.

It's the rush.
Mad, malevolent mush
In a frantic dash
Just to clash with the hush.
They become quiet.
They remain silent;
Treading backstreet environments
Amid thoughts proven violent.

Aggressive in pursuit.
Chasing thrills in the dark
Like the lost ark.
Infidelity is stark.
Therapeutic like new art.
Heightened precision under conditions
That involve conscious decision.
Playing poker with perdition.

Laughter in the swagger
Of SMS soaked seduction.
Met with messages directly,
But no credit for production.
Kept a clean slate.
Early morning phone calls.
Cleared call logs before late.
Loathsome labor. Lustful mind state.

He'll hide out
Before she finds out.
Took some time out
But always out and about.
She wishes he would.
He wishes he could
Be straight with her.
Up and down without frowns.

Somber thoughts so profound
That occasionally resound
When he wakes up across town.
Forbidden fruit in a night gown.
Gentle kisses not necessarily preferred
Because they aren't as soft as hers;
But he swears by this body
That the wicked wiles are godly.

It's the need.
Maybe greed:
Firmly planted in the gluttony.
Silently strewn secretive seeds.
Loquacious lobbying for feed.
Words of worry fancy weeds
That choke bold bearings with regret;
But no one knows; so why fret?

Why deny?
Why hide?
If he takes pride,
Will he lose the noble side?
Trick question.
Rhetorical inquiry.
One can want times infinity
But one can't ration serenity.

It's like affinity is illustrious:
Love life laid to waste
Yet so exquisite in taste.
Rich flavor.
Sought after and savored.
Well seasoned suspicious behavior
Requiring intensive labor
In hopes of avoiding neighbors.

He's the wily veteran:
Sour stomachs and weak knees
Become tasks performed with ease.
Some say it's a disease;
But if the emotional affliction
Is bred of involuntary conditions,
How much is the prescription?
All he had was gumption.

Forgone is the assumption
That double lives are like consumption
Of three day old grease:
Forcing and uneasy release
From every opening and crease.
Every illness will not cease.
Lost to me are explanations
On how this brings about peace;

But judgement was never claimed
By biased, spiteful owners.
At least not in legal manner.
I can take part in the banter,
Pull every card,
Observe the bashers,
But until I've swallowed pride,
I reserve to stand aside.

Never took that ride.
Haven't made those plans.
Haven't had to hide.
Never held those hands.
Can't look into eyes
Where years of tears have dwelled.
Never reached for Heaven
Whilst holding on to hell.

Never did condone the way
Or try to keep two hearts at bay.
Lifestyles change each passing day;
Just like words we used to say…………

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Sunday, July 15, 2012

"Mixed Drinks"

"Mixed Drinks"

Fell asleep in my recliner.
Woke up in deep water
Taking pride between thigh muscles.
Under Friday night lights,
We fight and tussle.
Maximum hustle.
Beautiful struggle.
Prettier than the face
At the center of my makeshift monocle.
Angular shots flash
From my photographic shot glass
Forty-five degrees for a playful pass.

Hands down.
Eyes lower.
Observe grandeur and lore.
Captain Morgan leads me to shore.
Softer than sand in the wind.
Ceiling fans above warm skin.
Circular rotations.
Ascension of fragrance.
Hormonal displacement.
Perspire with minimal patience.
Walk the line. Follow cadence.

Hug the bar top, pretty girl.
Hair covers your countenance.
Is there a lapse in confidence?
This was just round two.
That's fine.
Stick to the wine.
More Anejo for me.
You can sit through round three.
Who? Me?
Always a gentleman.
Gentle when I sip.
A handkerchief for your lips.

You say I'm a horn dog.
I like to think I'm a Land Shark
Swimming through Boston lager
Under your Blue Moon.
Can we leave soon?
They say aggressive drunks
Become Mad Dogs trapped in rooms
Where 20/20 vision can't resume.
Busy getting dizzy.
This one is fizzy.
You're feeling giddy.
Hours past tipsy.

Hugging this corner table
Like rungs on a ladder.
Exchanging farce filled fables
Amid short sips and laughter.
We spill, smile, hum
And chug spiced rum.
This receipt is a distorted feat.
Can barely compute the sum.
Chuckled way too hard.
Be nice to your bladder.
I'll wait right here.
We can head home after.

Your frothy mug is the truth.
We drank up the loot
So I bypass mandibles.
Member migrates past tooth.
Empty my champagne flute.
Stem twister ties the locks
But liberates hours of tension.
Don't forget the rocks.
My spirits carry more flavor
Than any lush could hope to savor.
You tip over the cask
And extract from the barrel:

Rub my Tom Collins
on your Shirley Temple
until I pop fast
like the contents of a shot glass
all over your pearly dimples.
Placement plain and simple.
Lather for your beautiful brown skin.
Lips display a cheerful grin.

Straws deliver cold servings
Of plum pineapple pear
Laced with pomegranate peach
Triple distilled 80 proof speech.
I remove your cold filter
To expose hints of warmth
Emanating from this service well.
Intoxicating taste. Inebriating smell.
I treat it well.
Generously dig in
Between shots of gin
Lips on sideways sway
From Amsterdam to Bombay.
Spread the bald eagle.
I'm reaching the Pinnacle;
Eating the cake and the icing.

On a limited edition mission
To alleviate your nerves.
Very special emissions
Say that you were reserved.
Hints of cherry and lemon-lime soda
But you're nowhere near sober.
No trace of innocence, surely.
Did you say your name was Shirley?
My name? Well, um…………
You can call me Evan.
I'm a brother from Bourbon.
My best friend is Jack Daniels.
He married Remy Martin
In Old New Orleans
But she left him for Jose' Cuervo
When he met Bacardi in Puerto Rico.

But anyways,
What more of you?
I enjoyed your long neck
And the glow in your hue.
Told you I'm a gentleman.
This isn't just a shake up
In hopes of smearing your makeup…………
……………then I wake up.

Was a glass sitting there?
Ringing wet hair
As I sit up in this lawn chair.
My flask is empty
And my bottle is bare.
Can't find my wallet anywhere.
It all felt like a dream.
No evidence of this affair.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Monday, July 2, 2012

"Phoenix Risen: Groundless"

"Phoenix Risen: Groundless"

Been off so long
that I quit asking why.
I just fly.
I just place arms,
wrists and fingertips
above closed lips
and shrugged shoulders.

As I've grown older,
I've learned to observe my beholder.
I was a young boaster
that knew toaster and holster
but lacked tact as bolster.

I've seen how those
who elect to move slower
are assumed bolder
as if we're colder:
calling us soldier
but not inclined to fall in line.

I had to carry loads
like concrete folders
before I could become a floater.
Beholder told me
that only floaters can behold her.

I wanted so badly to hold her;
but moist eyes and butterflies
meant nothing to the incomplete
concrete that anchored my thighs.

Thighs so lovely
that lie before my eyes.
How dare I cry
when her sultry silhouette
imparts a warmth
that gently hugs me? .
Can thugs see?

These cement folders grew colder;
so I asked my beholder
to alleviate my shoulders
so that I could claim my prize.
He was not surprised.

He told me
"You can view all things
but still have yet to open your eyes."
After I heard him speak,
I looked down at my feet.

Ankles bound to shackles
linked to lead shoes.
Shoes that used to bruise
those who faithfully
peruse truth like world news.

Self inflicted ruse.
Acceptance of my lies
yet I gnaw away at chains
as if they were twist ties.
She closes her eyes.
She just turns away.

I usually hear "Goodbye,"
but she had nothing to say.
Can't recall the day.
Who knew I'd forget?
What else is there now?
Maybe I should quit.

That's when everything seemed to fit.
Young he wanted to forfeit.
Older me wasn't having it.
Replaced charm and wit
with wisdom and grit.

Ankles shattered shackles.
Found the strength to handle
what was placed upon my mantle:
shoulder strength in exponential lengths.

Acceptance and the will to appreciate
eventually led my beholder to alleviate
a weight as great as
these folders void of sense.

I began to see that
what I saw was loose contingency
based on what I wished to see:
Things I'd never be
born of a mind too blind to see.

Increments in age have imparted levity.
Never felt so free.
I've no wish to be.
My desire is a glowing fire
that burns for deeper yearns.

Things I used to spurn
that I've finally earned,
manifest concerns
have been altered, overturned
and churned into something richer.

Light would only flicker.
Couldn't see the bigger picture
until I left the ground
with no intent to look down.
Cement minds will drown.

A conscious plagued
by concrete crowns
and pavement parody
is the harshest form of hilarity
and undeserving of charity.
This is my clarity.

I am groundless.
Bound less to this ground
that offers at best
flimsy money schemes
and unsavory teams.
The sky offers dreams.

Dreams as real as blinding rays
when the sun gleams.
You see,
these old feet no longer cover streets
in hopes of feeling complete.

No longer placed under the impression
of bland blacktop brands and imperfections.
Replaced inflection with jovial expression.
New sessions.

No questions about protection.
No fearful inquiry dwells in this he:
the me that looks up earnestly
to he who created me.
Salvage sympathy.

I am boundless.
Ground less to what I wanted to believe.
One who perceives ways to deceive
will always underachieve.

In all honesty,
I honestly don't need hope.
Hope floats but faith flies.
Faith lasts but hope dies.
One is complete.
The other obsolete.

Never again will this world embrace my feet.
Air so fair,
sights so sweet
that every deep breath
imparts graceful retreat.

Feathers blow like sheets .
as I navigate the sky.
I meditate and levitate.
My magistrate sits up high.
Hearts sing in honor of blazing wings.

World wonders so very scenic
pale in comparison to Phoenix.
Day and night lend
wondrous ambience to my flight.
This is my chosen sight:

Wrapped within the skies
high above my earthly ties;
twisting embers in the winter
warm all under the beholder's eyes.
Don't ask why.

In time, you will understand.
Make light the load in your hands.
You deserve to be complete.
Break the shackles at your feet.

Lost in youth yet always blessed.
Complacent minds coaxed and caressed
will grow to recognize their stress.
The obsessed will soon profess:

Confess to being bound at best.
All lost among the found,
torn away from peace and rest
will remove folders from their vests…

And the beholder that observed me:
the he tired of being self obsessed
and transgressed will see
all of thee in unity.

You will be counted among the groundless.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz