Saturday, September 29, 2012

"Warmth In December Pt. 3: Come Closer, Baby"

"Warmth In December Pt. 3: Come Closer, Baby"

Racing past my fears
Like I haven't had it in years.
I can't help but cry;
But I'm laughing through the tears.

Pestilence and plague.
Your love my daily swarm;
But you no longer harm.
I've never felt so warm.

Racing past my fears…………

Legs churning.
Arms burning
Half as hot as the stains
Splashed across my brain.
Branded without bandage.
Thoughts tattooed atop the bruise;
But I still choose to cruise.
Running hard for a taste.
Can't key in on my pace.
Longing for your grace.
Willing to give chase.

Like I haven't had it in years…………

Like eight days,
Nine hours
And some change
Never happened.
Like I don't think back.
Like I can't retrace.
Like I can't link tracks.
Like I can't recall.
Like I don't remember:
That night in early December
When you took me in
Like I can't brave the winter.
Like we didn't revisit.
Like it wasn't explicit.
Likened to a rendezvous
Of the clueless and exquisite.
Like I never ate it up
Just to drink the juices.
Like you never gave it up.
Love, we never tied the loose ends.

In a rush for the touch.
Full speed for the need.
We planted the seed;
And I'm still ready to feed.
You still left no lead.
Won't answer your phone.
I hope you're still home…………
…………I hope you're alone.

You just can't move on.
You can't ask for more.
I want all of your warmth.
Embrace these open pores.
Freezing from profusion.
Shaken to the core.
Not from weather but confusion:
What's with this open door?
Glass on the floor,
Drapes left in shreds,
And a body slashed and scored
Rests within your bed.

I can't help but cry…………

Wishing to ask you why;
But you won't open your eyes.
I'm searching for the grace
As blood eludes your face.
No tact. Little taste.
Limbs severed and displaced
Like a rag doll fit for waste.
Too much to replace.
Deep cuts in your wrists
Where your hands once were.
Tongue removed smooth
Like you spoke too many slurs.

Who would dare to?!
Who would bear through
Stripping you bare to
Bind and ensnare you?!
What degree of twisted fascination
Incurred your numerous lacerations?!
What hunger for satiation
Involves your gross decapitation?!

Throat sore from screaming;
So I should start screening:
Look for signs of scheming.
Man, I must be dreaming……
……envelope near your waist.
My name on the cover.
This is your handwriting:

"To my twice lost lover:

If you're reading this,
I hope it's read aloud.
I don't regret that night.
I've never felt more proud
To give you what you've missed.
Each familiar kiss.
Every indecent wish.
Moments held in bliss.
I truly did want
You to ask for another;
But after you left,
I couldn't hide my blunder.
Time alone left me to wonder
If things had really changed.
Our love so misconstrued,
My heart was always strained.
I couldn't take the pain.
I wished to end my life;
But I had to tell him first.
I was a faithful wife;
But after tasting you again,
I knew that it all would end.
Painful wounds we couldn't mend
Was more than I could fend.
I wouldn't even pretend.
It was written on my face.
I implore you. Do not defend.
You've no need to make haste.
That night when we were together,
My soul rived in sigh and swoon.
We are bound to have forever.
You will see me again. Soon."

But I'm laughing through the tears…………

Sheer hilarity.
Chock full of chuckles
As I felt his knuckles
against the side of my head.
Fell next to you in bed.
Hand clutching your love letter.
He grabs his cleaver from the dresser.
I swear I've never felt better.
I can now grin
Without having to bear it.
Broken skin scars my chin.
He forcefully tears it.
Howling heartily from my lungs
As the blood leaks out.
Surprised he didn't take my tongue.
I just cackle and shout.

What's this all about?
You honestly can't see?
I suppose not since you're gone.
I am finally free!
No longer lustful and lonesome.
No longer held hostage.
I no longer feel the bondage
Of wanting to pay homage.
I ran back to you.
He crushes my ankles.
I reached out for you.
Loose limbs just dangle
Over my side of the bed.
The bottom line?
I was already dead.
That's the punchline.
What more needs to be said?
You've killed me twice already.
I can now lay near your body
Without the tension getting heavy.
My scars sore and sweaty.
I'd get closer if he'd let me.
He just continues to displace
But this smile stays on my face.

Gave my life for your grace.
I don't regret the chase.

I'd still race past my fears
Even if it took years.
I no longer have to cry.
I'm smiling from ear to ear.

Our past was pestilence and plague;
But we always welcomed the swarm.
Now that' there's nothing left to harm,
I swear I've never felt so warm. ♥ †EVL

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Thursday, September 27, 2012

"Warmth In December Pt. 2: Let's Try Again"

"Warmth In December Pt. 2: Let's Try Again"

It's been a week.
One week,
an extra day
and nine hours.
wind chill on overkill.
My fifth cold shower.
Uncomforatble heat.
Tingling feet;
but no numbness.
Just pain.
Smashed my window pane.
Still on my brain...............

Insane? Hardly;
But I'm on the brink.
I can't have a drink
or even dare to blink
without you sitting there.
Over there.
That chair.
It's not fair.
Threw it out two days ago.
Dug it out yesterday.
Always found a way
to make sure that it stays.

That chair.
That's where you would embrace me.
You would say "Just face me, baby."
and then proceed to taste me.
Whiskey on that dresser
that you used to chase me.
You consumed me whole,
took three shots and said "So tasty."
You complicate me.
You make me hate your guts.
You make me miss you dearly.
I'm not thinking clearly.

Of course there is no discourse.
We used to keep in touch.
Never could forget the rush.
Caught up in the rapture
of one willing to run faster
for nights of love and laughter.
I would move at blistering pace
just for moments dipped in grace.
Dredged, dunked and splattered
like upholstery never matters.
Such a lovely mess.
Onlookers were impressed.

I can't break away.
Called you yesterday
and three nights before.
Maybe you had chores.
I'm even a fiend
for your answering machine.
Prince may become rogue.
King misses his Queen.
Couldn't be much further.
I want back what we once nurtured.
I'll do away with the charmer.
I want us to be warmer.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

"Warmth In December Pt. 1: Old Time's Sake"

"Warmth In December Pt. 1: Old Time's Sake"

Can't help but listen.
Smooth emissions.
Acute addiction
To this new edition.
Thought my latest mission
To be born of dilemma.
Caught crazy signals
From your chopped up antenna;
But I've always been fond
Of the fuzzy transmissions.
Eloquence only comes out
When I visit the dugout.

I greet you from the outside
With wet hair and cold air.
I know it's warm inside.
I've been there before.
I've come back for more.
When you open doors,
Clothes crash to the floor
As you embrace my pores.
Such a lonesome chore
Just trying to stay at bay
Especially when your efforts
Won't force me to turn away.

Passion still mean.
Procedure messy but clean.
Skin smooth as cream
And I'm ready for the milk.
Sheets dress the scene
And it's not even silk.
Thought I was gonna dry off;
But you let me ride off:
Moving about familiar plains
Like this land has no name.
I still follow suit;
But it doesn't feel the same.

Was inclined to believe
That a woman's water works
Contingent upon the harder work.
What is this that you purport?
Barely even a slight graze
And I could swim for days.
Nothing found of malaise;
But you're so easily dazed.
Lips slick and glazed.
Passion fruit so tender.
Couture leaves your contour.
I lay deep within the river.

What the past delivers
We find ourselves willing to claim
Between lips that quiver
And remaining articles maimed.
I've missed you so much.
Please don't stop now, baby.
Out there I chase lost times.
Herein lies my lately.
Against the same walls
Where pictures still fall.
On the same counters
We once roved between showers.

Home isn't mine.
Never felt so fine.
This isn't my place.
Feels good not having to chase.
You don't have to cry.
Never said goodbye.
Those dismissive sighs
Won't mask yearning eyes.
Even the sun itself
Won't quell the sting of winter;
But at least I got to feel
A night of warmth to remember.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

"Chess Club: Bloody Crowns"

"Chess Club: Bloody Crowns"

Queen dismissed King because
King wanted to swing.
Prince took it hard.
Princess was scarred.
Duke called it a fluke.
Just hushes from Duchess.

After King escaped the fire,
he drew the Knight's ire.
Knight peered through Queen's window.
Already had the info.
Pawns move about the lawn.

Knight's ire?
Fawn and desire.
Chain mail and hooks across Rooks.
Blackest White on the board.
Dark Knight plays both sides
just to ride.

Queen swore by her Bishop
that she'd never fall again.
Prince and Princess fall asleep.
Queen weeps.
Knight creeps.
Bishop prays.
Sixth day.

King kept his ring
among other things.
With map in lap,
he returns to kingdom.
King dumb;
trusting one he placed on steed.
Queen had needs.

Duke told the story.
Duchess remained quiet.
Bishop tried his best;
but couldn't quell King's riot.
King entered at noon.
Knight left soon.

King observed Queen
sigh and swoon.
King asked why Queen
let his heart bleed.
Queen reiterated needs
before disclosing a third seed.

Queen wasn't the least
bit contrite about Knight;
citing late nights alone
while King was gone.
Duchess's sheets never remained white.

She remains silent for a reason.
King can't cite treason;
lest he wish to end up dead.
Queen kept a clear head
as hooks scaled Rooks again.

King can't win for losing:
Bishop is moving.
Pawns hardly matter.
Duchess called it off.
Duke is getting fatter.
Knight ensues laughter.
Prince is mortified.
Princess is far from flattered.
Kingdom torn apart.
Nothing left to gather.

Queen stabs King through the heart.
Knight tears him apart.
Beaten, bloody corpse.
Royal blood splattered.
King broken and battered.
Pawns stop and look.
King hung from Rook.

King is surely dead.
Queen wants proof instead.
Knight heeds what Queen said.
Knight lops off King's head.
Sad state.
Unfaithful magistrate.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Saturday, September 15, 2012

"Dark Phoenix: Black Under The Sun"

"Dark Phoenix: Black Under The Sun"

There will be no survivors.
Hack and slash.
Separate the ligaments.
Took away my innocence
Multiple increments.
Exponential anarchy.
Flames untamed mar and maim.
Introduced pride to shame.
I am the fire.
Darkness desired.
Wicks through the wire.
Wicked wings perched on spires.
Torched are the plains
that once housed the sane.
Grassroots rendered to ashes.
You can't purge the stains.
Curtail the campaign.
Too much to maintain.
No time to complain.
Derived from insane.
Insidious incarnate.
Skin peels where palms sit.
Ear lobe and armpit
swell up as swarms lick.
Ember and brimstone
flung like roaches and hornets
across this broken chasm
festering from filthy orgasms
subscribing to decadence,
sparing their intelligence,
displaying their negligence
and still sworn to be heaven sent.
I will consume them whole.
Every single soul.
The allotment of indulgence
layerd thick in pestilence.
Cast me out as derelict.
Came back to spear magistrate.
Talons through the hearts
of kings who've played their part.
My wrath yields exquisite art:
Etchings fresh and defined,
bodies scored and dried
after soaking in their brine.
The savagery is explicit.
I dangle the complicit
in manners that the eccentric
would even consider illicit.
You want to participate?!
Suck till spirits dissipate!
As I weave and navigate,
Swallow then evaporate!
My wings sweep the erosion
that will follow this explosion.
Flames singe those who run and hide.
You can't call this genocide.
There are no sides.
There is no class.
No one shall pass.
Borderline barriers reduced to ash.
Nothing will remain.
No distinction.
No more games.
No recollection of names.
Nothing left to tame.
What was left of shame
is now one in the same.
Once embraced by Phoenix flames.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

"Soft Drinks/Drunken Hearts"

"Soft Drinks/Drunken Hearts"

Prompt orders delivered
To my soft drink sipper.
Meticulous mixer
Offering elaborate elixirs
To palates preferring more.
More craft.
More quality.
More dedication.
The sensation derived
From an avid aficionado
who honestly could care less
about kudos and bravo.

I'm your favorite bartender.
Short story lender.
Smooth savant of spirits
That monitors your limits.
Fond hugs get frothy mugs.
Wipe your chin, baby.
Tie back your hair
So I can admire a pair.
I promise not to stare.
No early advances.
Just a few short glances
As you aim to take chances.

Six shots before seven.
You kiss the rim of each glass.
You tie the cherry stems
But the lemons get a pass.
I tend to other guests;
But you call me back over
In your cute little attempts
To feign still being sober.
Your coat falls from your shoulder.
Not like it covered up much.
You say your skin is colder.
It needs warm hands to touch.

Yeah, baby. You've had enough.
Your words sound real gruff.
You're trying to hang tough.
No more of this stuff.
Give me that back
Take two of these
And please:
Sip this slowly.
You treat me like you know me.
Such a strong rapport.
You just smile and nod
Until I close the store.

I guess this goes on your tab.
You've no money for a cab
And you're all alone.
I don't mind taking you home.
I didn't, at least.
Drunken hands feel and fondle.
I accidentally hit the throttle.
At the next red light,
You reveal a hidden bottle.
Oh yeah? Pass that.
Snatched that. Dumped that.
Flung it out the window.

Autumn wind blows
And you really start to shiver.
Bourbon on the breath,
But your lips still quiver.
The staircase was a challenge;
But we avoid the damage.
In some way, you've managed
To slip into your shower.
I should leave now;
But you might hurt yourself.
Conscience far too strong
To act like I'm not involved.

I remember when the schnapps
Used to be peach soda.
I remember when root beer floats
Were all you needed to get over.
Nowadays, three scoops of vanilla
Or a glass of Dr. Pepper
Are tall glasses filled
With what is triple distilled.
Those were better days;
But anyways,
You exit the shower
To greet my towel.

After drying off,
You eye your lotion bottle.
I wanted to be nice, right?
Alright; but I'm not spending the night.
Slick hair and optional underwear.
Still flaunting that nice pair.
Testing my sinew with your curves.
You often get on my nerves.
Please don't press my mettle.
You were never one to settle.
That's why my finger bears no metal.

That drink received no chaser.
Still a hard sip to swallow.
That's why I refuse to follow.
That shot glass will remain hollow.
Lights out in two blinks.
My love for you a mixed drink.
I offer a forehead kiss
Before considering myself dismissed.
But hey; it's all cool.
Dust off the bar stools,
Place this towel over my shoulder
And wait for you to come over.

I know it sounds like madness;
But I avoid the sadness
By allowing you to return.
Lessons repeatedly learned;
But I still look for the day
When you'll sit there and wink
And before I grab the spirits,
You'll request a soft drink. †EVL

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Friday, September 7, 2012

"Four Hundred Year Notice"

"Four Hundred Year Notice"

Might just leave early.
Might just leave yearly.
I think I'll quit today.
Time to get away.
There's something to say
about the extent of my legacy.
Dove into black seas
and made it easier to see.
Brought hypocrites to their knees
so that the critical would see
that mantles aren't hung from trees.
Innocence will not be seized.

I am not example
or the mantle where it rests.
I am not the answer.
I do not see tests.
No rope binds my ankles.
No opposite angles.
I crush weeds that tangle.
I will not be dangled.
I am art in fact.
Not an artifact;
so I can walk away.
I'm not on display.

I'm not here to stay.
I'm just here to say
that this is my last day.
Don't call me "Runaway."
I devour labels.
I will not enable
the flaws found in your fables.
Your books are on the table;
but the message I convey
will never fade way.
Your words aren't worth the pay.
Please enjoy your day.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

"Maraschino Stems"

"Maraschino Stems"

She hangs on to every word
Like sounds she never heard.
Her focused stare calms my nerves
And quells the stage fright.
Consecutive Friday nights
And she sits right there.
Her preferred chair.
Optimal angle where her skirt dangles
As if inviting me to peek;
But she's a woman of chaste.
Thighs meet my eyes fast
But crossed legs ensue laughs.
Forgot my mic was open…………
………………Hey y'all. So sorry.
Love, positivity, prosperity and peace.
Now back to this piece.

She wasn't very wary.
She didn't find me scary.
Enticing eyes engaged me directly.
Her name was Cherry.
Every thread fit her right.
Hands receptive to my grip.
Her skin glows in dim light.
Convenient distraction from moist lips.
She was years beyond sight.
Her soft steps cleared pathways.
I envy the lips she bites.
I wonder about her past days:
Was she always so charismatic?
Are there underlying habits?
Are any of her secrets tragic?
Should I look for black magic?

Man listen:
I'll take her voodoo
With a side of her gumbo
And hardly care if I stumble.
Not muffled.
No mumbles.
I'm usually modest and humble;
But I must document the struggle.

She was fancy.
I often daydream and fancy
Where my hands would be
If she would have me.
She was candy.
My glass of vanilla milk
Mixed with French silk.
Ice cold role so refreshing.
My sense of smell
Lobbied for reasons to inhale
Until my lungs swell;
Bursting with her scent.
Fresh mint in her stare.
Stimulation and percolation.
Invigoration in her dictation.
Her words carry satiation;
But she prefers my prose.
She deserves what she chose;
So in my plain clothes,
I offer literary treasure trove.

Ms. Cherry.
My favorite berry.
Picked fresh and juicy
Amid the bitter, unripe groupies
That clamor for my grammar
With no internal sense of glamor.
They fade into the shade;
But she shines in candor.

Ms. Cherry.
If frank I may be,
Then I might be maybe
Bold enough to tell this lady
That she is so very……
So heavy…………………
Beautiful bevy…………
Routine in her richness.
Delicious in her thickness.
Smooth in her shake
As I hide mine, still stirring.
Her sexy is unnerving.

Ms. Cherry.
Hanging on my words
As they freely spill and splatter.
Cheeks rosy from her laughter.
Anxious mood;
But I'm a chill dude.
Among all that may be,
She came to see me;
Sitting in that chair over there
Long hair and a nice pair.
I would stop and stare…………


What was I talking about?
A world full of doubt?
A society afraid of change?
How typecasts are tied to first names?
That's what I wrote, right?
Right; but the words I don't write
Find forever in this open mic
And these very dim lights…………

Lost my head in her dark red.
Thoughts loose;
Drenched in cherry juice.
Well fed.
Full of fervor after feeding.
I don't think I'll be proceeding.
I apologize for daydreaming.
I guess I'll be leaving…… ♥

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz