"Self Exclusion"

"Self Exclusion"

Young blood flows
Through the baby veins
Of this old soul
That still recalls milk stains.
Childhood easy to trace.
Makeup of a slow roller
Moving steady in life's race.
Mind set on a faster pace.
No time left for saving face.
I've a few lines to chase.
Thoughts scratched and stained.
Residual remnants to my brain
And I've never felt higher.
My supplier is a constant provider
Of uncut cranial candy.
My dealer understands me.
My friends examine me.
They say I lack sanity.
Uncanny how words are maintained
and I still offer even exchange.

I was taught to serve purpose
With a side of confidence.
If one offers their opinion,
It should be laced with consciousness.
Garnish is forever relevant.
Spinkle some significance
Before you call it evidence
Lest you aspire to be derelict.
If that is the case,
Then call yourself a dichotomy.
Be the unknown enigma
And the divine prophesy.
Be the seldom informed hypocrite
With more than pebbles to kick
That couldn't tell substantial slump
From splinters in tree stumps.
What of me? Well I'm the maven
That resides in this haven
Beneath wondrous erogenous storms
That would turn down your money
To enjoy cold milk
With a few shards of honey.
The house protects me.
The rain is sexy.
I don't fear the dark halls.
The world looks like four walls
To those who love the court.
I'd rather keep two balls.
To those who pack much,
Sack lunch will be served.
I pack light for my flights.
Muses minister to my nerves.

Sharp wit and blunt phrase.
Misfit on most days.
Blend in at will.
Warm heart and true chill.
More concerned with the thrill
Than just a display of skills.
If sub par fits your bill,
Then aren't you yet fulfilled?
While you focus on that,
I'll relax and sit back.
Examine facts before assembling
Or words will never bear resembling.
Ignore the trill and stand still.
Onlookers key in on trembling.
So abrasive is the shrill.
Pensive is favored over defensive.
Promote a concept that is fond
Instead of just pros and cons.
Sense is only common when dispersed.
Knowledge spitefully withheld is a curse.
Some minds are soup kitchens
That dare to ask for charity.
Some are privy to clear vision
But refuse to seek clarity.

I represent the society:
Bright minds inclined to crown heights.
Royal lines of higher learning.
Lit wicks and pots churning.
Fair shares and boastful earnings.
Pockets emptied out. Gave up riches
To gain much more than the wealthy.
I sit among the healthy.
Nothing stealthy.
Too proud to hide.
Too present to parlay.
More willing to display
For the love of words
Than a crowded coffeehouse
Where a handful know your name
But still won't shout you out.
This is for we;
But we do it for you
To forge new avenues
And sharpen your point of view.
We're not paying dues,
More approachable than shrewd,
Probably won't make the news
And didn't ask to be queued.

We are old groomed
To become the new age
Of colorful hues
That walk across a stage
Of blacktop and concrete.
New feats flawless;
Performed amid awkward pauses
And those that deem us lawless.
Larger than the concepts.
Brilliance personified.
Rhythm standing in place.
More than movements occupied.
Sharp stones meet flat screens.
Nothing televised.
A world inclined to it's limits
Does not deserve to witness.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Requiem: Idle Hearts"

"Requiem: Idle Hearts"

Left petals strewn
across water like the letters
that we used to write.
Thoughts take flight;
crossing paths with emotion.
Messengers to us.

I fancy the time
when your messenger would retire;
gorging my ire thoughtlessly;
replaced by your presence.
Words only fall new from you.

Utopia was never as tangible
as the days we sat here.
This porch.
These nights.
Street lights.
Just life.
Not much outside of abundance.

Not far fetched at all.
Garments snatched and balled
will always trump phone calls;
kisses moist;
born of wishes
voiced in eager choice…

But this?
Just retention.
A longing extension
of what I surely believe
you also reach out for.
Open pores soak
under the sun for just one.

None greater than the latter.
Not even the later
lush with ambitious favors.
Those who like me
will soon slight me;
but you still love me.

Your love read upon lips
like remaining red upon hips
I once sought out for stability;
the ability to see
short phrases without calligraphy…

"Yes" between breaths.
Cries between sighs…
Witnessed limbs stretch
as if longitude lies…
and today,
I don't want to ask why.

It hurts.

It always gets a little harder;
watching these petals
dance in the water.
Profound reminder, I suppose
of doors we never closed…




………………until we had to. <3 br="br" evl="evl">
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"P. O. W."

"P. O. W."

And she won't run.
And I will capture.
And it's light fun;
But there's no laughter.

High noon
Following the sunrise
that crept in after the moon.
She makes the platoon swoon.
Delicate and fine;
But she requests front line.
Top tier volunteer.
My cheerful concubine.
She's my favorite soldier;
Especially when heat smolders.
Soft, sweaty skin glistens.
I command. She listens.
I demand. She supplies
With lowered eyes, full hands,
Bent knees, full mouth
And an ambition void of doubt.

And we don't race.
But I chase after.
And I keep pace.
And I will snatch her.

Headboard and four pegs.
I love the way it feels.
Camouflage across her legs.
Soft, leather laced heels
That never grace the minefield.
Drove through her delicate domain
With little ease for pain.
I patrol her plains.
Shell shocked from the stains.
Soft, sticky shards.
Withdrew my fleet. Caught off guard.
More seductive shrapnel
Than one private can tackle.
Invasion at her post.
Crashed against the coast
With artillery to boast.

And she's out there.
And the air is muggy.
And she always dies;
But it's not bloody.

She throws silent shade.
Stealthy sonar grenades.
Soaked but heat seeking
Lodged in throats demeaning.
She trades belligerent blade
With the butterscotch brigade.
My jar head remains pretty
While scoping in on the prissy.
My sergeant hits her shimmy
Without moving her feet.
Under her quilted tent of sheets
is a meal ready to eat.
Treading trenches few have seen
Taking sips from her canteen.
She accepts every directive
And fulfills her prime objective.

And I touch down.
And she will report.
And she makes rounds.
And there's no retort.

Right to left boot.
One precedes the other.
I don't want the troops.
I don't need another.
Purporting stalwart diligence
Even if it claims her innocence.
At the top of every list.
As if nothing else exists.
Pledging her allegiance
To the utmost appeasement.
That's an order.
Stood still through squalls
Like she doesn't feel water.
Sun scorches like mortar.
Before taking it further,
She begs for me to hurt her.
How sick is this cadet?
Ringing wet with vigor.
She wont shake or shiver
Until I stand and deliver.
Lips quiver,
But no frown.
She won't break down.
She loves it.
Seething with anger.
Dashing through danger.
G.I. with geisha hair
Running this gauntlet affair.
She climbs endless stairs.
An audience of endless stares
As she bores through bare
And she really doesn't care.
Left. Right.
Warm days.
Not nights.
She says it feels right.
Devotion of emotions
So extreme, they're deemed obscenity.
Confinement is her liberty.
She lusts after captivity.

And it still rains.
There are still flames.
And there's no shame.
Just some war games.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Extra Value"

"Extra Value"

Funneled though tunnels
With open eyes.
I love how it stings.
Dredged from dripping things.
Tossed high. Tumbled,
But never dry.
Drenched.
Dampness.
Hapless.
Happily lost in the mix.
Spiked like punch bowls.
Soul stirred like hot coals.
Sea foam spirit quells the pain
But respects the heat.
Temperature revered.
Only it's absence feared.
Joy found in misty eyes
Celebrating burning thighs.
Celestial coronation.
Heavenly sensation.
Liberty found confined
By the many "me"
That have no idea
What it's like to be free.
Clogged arteries healed
From finding extra value
In your happy meal.
Save the toy for later.
My inner fat kid
Grants you favor
After sampling your flavor.
Diligent masturbator
In light of what's savored.
Nasty nectar nuisance
with some special sauce
For your two cents.
Sweet and sour.
Processed power to please
Packed with fresh lettuce.
Don't forget to add cheese.
You're the plum pear parfait
That I enjoy near the parkway
Pedestrian style.
Gotta watch my weight
The way I view your waist.
I swear it's a waste
To let age nibble away
Without giving me a taste.
Blush makes up your face
Without cosmetic means.
I enjoy your glow and grace
As well as your tight jeans.
Simple afternoon scene.
Dressed clean,
Frame mean,
Hair holds a light sheen.
How playfully sunlight beams;
Drawing us near the shade
Of this modern day delicatessen.
Not fond of flash frying.
Dying of thirst in the worst.
Panting heavy over the bevy
Of topics worth conversing.
Let's share a single serving.
Had a slight hunch
That you would deem this light lunch
A little more than unnerving.
Ignore my hypothesis.
Found years of peace
Amid this twenty piece.
Moments special and savored
Like your favorite flavor.
It's would appear that
I've lost my dipping sauce.
One would soon figure
That it would coat an action figure.
That little boy with his toys.
Our little girl in her own world.
Fraternal ambience and fawn.
Play Place on the front lawn.
No talk of life plans.
No scenarios of high demand.
Just toddlers in the sand
And proud parents holding hands.

I love you, too. ♥

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Weave Through Raindrops"

"Weave Through Raindrops"

Soaked for years.
Faced my fears
With trembling legs.
Hobbling around misunderstanding
As if on pegs.
Blistering cold.
This moment is growing old
Yet I never felt so bold.

It's wet out here.
Open up the sky
And squint your eyes.
The inexperienced.

The unsettled.
Those lacking the precision
to make tough decisions
Must undergo profound transition.
They shy away from cold
As if they'll always be warm.
They talk brash and bold
As if it were perceived as charm.
They speak the harm
But never braved the swarm.
The throwaway are washed away.
They will not survive the storm.

Wind dodges my face
As debris dances with grace.
Fragments twist and curl.
Remnants of the world.

A storm is coming.

Forecast called for clear skies.
They said nothing of dry eyes.
Clouds gather in midday
And we have nothing to say.
Hardly noticed.
Never talked about
Until the foolish unsuspecting
Inadvertently find out.

A storm is on the way.

Did it have to be today?
Why not?
There wasn't much to say
If it were any other day.
Now they look to hideaway.
Everyone won't get away.
Those looking to dodge the fray
Soon find ruin and decay.

The storm approaches.

As the gust encroaches,
The fearful surely scatter.
They hide behind the roaches.
Their plight won't go unnoticed.

The sky is dark.

Embrace the pain.
Gather scars and gashes.
Nothing left to gain.
Time to rinse the stains.

Time to part the sky.

We only blink our eyes
To rinse away past moments;
But when wondering why,
One can't release the torment.
That's why we have torrents.
Hearts that remain hardened
Can't fathom begging pardon.
They drown in their rage.
Swollen and surly.
Scorn and selfish.
Sworn to suffocating
From needless exacerbating.

The storm is what I crave.

Solitary soul. Singular slave
Yet I flow free.
Nothing marred in deceit.
No reason to remain discreet.
Standing in the street.
Dead center.
Willing sender
Of well wishes in the winter.
How I love her storm.
Been there through the harm,
Nights when it wasn't warm
And always kept her charm.

The storm understands me.

I walk against the gale
Instead of turning around.
The world is whipped and tossed.
My feet never leave the ground.
I confide in her current.
Compromise does not exist.
We represent the resurgent.
Beings this world could not enlist.
She won't impart neglect.
I won't withhold respect.
I know what to expect.
She used to graze my neck;
But now, I just pass by.
I've embraced my pain.
I don't run from rain.
Her teardrops rinsed my stains.

The storm will never die.

She will always cry
For those who stain their eyes;
But I'm just passing by.
Sit there and wonder why.
If you remain discreet
And stand behind those lies,
You will walk the streets
And never come back dry.

You see, I've soaked for years
And faced all of my fears
So when the storm draws near,
I stand next to her tears. †EVL

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz