"Storm: Sunlight Between Clouds"
I've not seen enough of this world yet.
I've climbed the stairwells
from where one hears bells
like chimes in the fall.
I've walked down halls
Where whispers echo louder than footsteps
but I've often fancied fresh air.
Flags billow in the wind like wet hair;
Following the cadence of her storm clouds.
The sky screams loud in exuberance
Just to mark emerging weather.
A mother just received a love letter.
I've seen parting gifts
In the form of best wishes,
Gut wrenching goodbyes
that swiftly follow last kisses
And tears that drown the deliberate.
Yet her raindrops have a jovial taste.
Amid the hardships she's faced
Is a shining sign of grace.
So flushed her face within it all.
Through the squalls and torrential
Lies something so instrumental.
A mother's touch so gentle.
Fragile in her grasp,
his hand slowly clasps her finger.
Her power surely lingers in his grip.
Lips curve to form a smile.
Her in disbelief. His so pure and sweet.
Befuddled nearly but clearly content,
Her contempt for the past fled
The moment she kissed his forehead.
It surely takes more than a glimpse
to hold fast to one's future.
He embraces her warmth
As if he already knew her.
Familiar their connection.
So fervent her protection
That she would allow him time
With the bells and wind chimes.
He's moved gracefully within her mind
For what I'd consider a lifetime
And yet nothing quite compares
With him being there.
I've not seen enough of this world yet.
I've been initiative and bystander.
I've flung mud and fought slander
With every inkling of candor
but if there is more to say,
I will surely rue the day
That any slight or display
Of disrespect should come their way.
I've so much to see.
I know it's not my place
To know what is for me;
But one day hopefully,
I too will know the feeling.
I hope to know that joy.
I hope to share that smile
Between parent and child. †
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
For Evelyn And Ashton.
"The American Plague"
No room for the nervous
When you're underrated on purpose.
Purpose by societal definition?
Overkill of cheap thrills
Induced by purveyors of pills.
Happy candy for the sad we.
Sadly basking in the glee
Of the Technicolor shapes they see.
Their splendor but a brief celebration.
Conquest for not much more than the score.
Would divide tribes
To be conquered by factions.
Swift in pursuit of bitter fruit
Yielding side effects and delayed action.
They tend to the bars;
Spreading the black tar
Just to chase the dragon.
Residue and fingertip scars.
Fell far from grace.
Mirrors hold too much to embrace.
No yearning for a silhouette to trace.
Attention drawn to an aging face
And they are barely middle-aged.
Would inhale a can of mace
If it meant another taste.
Briskly sporadic in pace.
Heart racing faster
Than the cadence of their tone.
They would rather be alone;
Left to fade into that zone.
Mind and body faded.
Intricate like hair braided
But they will conceal the roots.
No one reveals the truth.
Rarely around to request it.
Adopted as the norm
Until it remotely harms
But it was always a swarm.
Support replaced by slander.
Taught to mind our manners
But we treat junkies like crap.
Addicts get the scraps
But can't eat them at our table.
So willing and able
To invoke the need for labels
When we share their categories.
Unfamiliar stories.
Tales so damn specific
Yet we don't see the connection.
Our ignorance is our protection.
We wield this heavy shield
fortified with the implied:
That which we would let ride
Long as it isn't inside.
God forbid.
Raising a gifted kid
With such lofty expectations
And the potential to change the nation.
They dare to change their destination.
No longer drawn towards your bevy.
How long before the heart is heavy
At the sight late night
Of a daughter under the influence
Or a son more thief than nuisance?
How much remains in house?
Arguments with your spouse.
Had to hide your purse
because your child sees your prescription
As peace offering from the nurse.
High school drop out shut off;
Cut off from acceptance.
Negligence never presumed as a factor
Viable enough to make perfect sense.
Since the earliest inception,
Contact viewed as a connection
But it lacked impact and passion.
Listening became a latent action.
We scoff at the criminal
and often judge the prostitute
but our children need their fix;
So this is where it constitutes.
Few things are black and white.
Debate well into the night
Over which race got it right.
Similarities will surely be disclosed.
We hate the owners of our stores
But not more than doing chores.
We sit drinking on the porch
Raising bottles like a torch
to every neighbor passing by.
We sit and wonder why
In place of beginning to think how.
Are we so different now?
Don't lend retort to the rhetorical.
The difference between he, she and we
Is that although he collects the fees
While she is often on her knees,
We are who they've longed to please.
The derelict appear diseased
But we harbor the infection.
No differential diagnosis.
And sadly,
No detection. †
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
"Phoenix Force: Captivity"
If bondage is predetermined,
grant me playfulness in resistance.
Instantaneous the initial moment
of our embrace in violent splendor.
Me,
the lender of means
with no intent of retraction;
falling through like I've been calling you.
Reach in the secrecy of indecency for me.
These wings weak from diligent expenditure;
fascination rekindled and smoldering.
For what I'm shouldering,
lust takes step between breaths.
I inhale the atmosphere just to see clear.
Found my vision impaired
by the scent of your hair.
Sight blurred by the things I've heard.
Coupled with fragrance is the cadence;
sharp yet soft in melody.
Your response my levity.
Therapy keen and unclean;
filthy and floral.
Floored by the noxious fume
that is your perfume;
I barely manage a wince
in light of blatant hints.
You coddle me as I continue following.
Embers burn slow as the wind blows.
I am now less feign in surrender:
The pretender you will find
is now your willing concubine confined.
Fits of strength abound,
you illustrate what you've allowed;
straddling stints of my desire
before gorging on my fire.
You pick me apart.
You carefully impart
certain fragments of my heart
to that which remains within these walls.
Wishes left untold you surely swallow whole.
Thoughts that you find
you engulf and bind;
be it maligned or undefined.
Never felt this fine.
I'd hazard no guess on you being so kind.
I've done wonderfully nasty things
to you in this mind of mine;
acts better left at
the knees of pure conviction.
No contemptuous affliction.
No opinionated snide would dare
to venture where these thoughts reside.
My favored adage is your point of view.
No disjoint in your vantage.
Slated between your misinterpreted indifference
and misunderstood drive
are these talons of mine;
digging deep as I am slow to seep.
You endeavor to have me reach your core;
basting me in my own languish
until my flame is extinguished.
If vitality is left, it crept forward;
Finding refuge in lips divine
that have offered warning signs:
the song of sirens foretold
to those willing to be bold.
Only the foolish scold;
slashing through the burning cold
as if dry air leads
to the fountain atop this mountain.
This is where I remain.
I embrace the stains
and these moist chains;
flying high enough to shriek
but returning when you speak.
I am yours within our will. P†F
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
