"Calibration"
If I needed a quick fix,
I wouldn't be here right now.
Fight now.
Pull rank after you drank
Much more than you could handle.
Handle pans with shaky hands
And be sure to praise the same God
That you will curse for your condition.
Affliction self imposed.
Stairwells and curled toes.
The industry is your excuse
And funding your only motive.
So fundamental.
Elementary, my dear.
Tears dried upon request
After clutching the broad chest
Of a bevy of clientele.
Buying what you sell,
they make steady rotation
of what some say runs the nation.
Patron behind the scenes
With souvenir stained jeans.
Blotches where stone washed
But never washed away.
At least not today.
If I had the time,
I'd spend a few dimes.
Short change simple and plain
For a tighter set of chains.
Passed on the chance to gain
To make room for the pain.
Never heard a safe word;
So here you go again.
Rinsed under the rain
Then ran away from the sun;
Acting as if it was fun
Until gunned down.
Spun around to fade away.
Way too many jump shots
Will ensure the foul is flagrant
And that's charity plus possession.
Nine tenths in court
And you'll get no support.
No need to argue the call
When you turn over the ball.
And now you start to bawl.
If it really never mattered,
My opinion would be shattered.
What one shapes would be splattered;
Smeared across from your indifference
Upon the first blink
and the next breath.
The next step would involve resolve;
But that's above expectation:
The one thing you truly covet
But never seem to reach the summit on.
Dawn will expose
Every time you smite your nose.
Before dusk, you'll chase
Every iota of grace granted in pity.
Privy to objection
But more at home with complacency,
Casualty of what the latent see
As a means of satiation.
Until commencement of cremation
Or the pallbearers and coffin,
quite often
You will frequent this destination.
Circumstance will have his slave.
You will enlist yourself as knave
And cry out to be saved
When you are bound to misbehave.
Save face for the gullible faction.
Your traction and turbulence is earned.
From what you have learned,
gravity will test you often;
Bogged down with a frown,
plastic crown and messy face.
Shining beacon of taste
With so much promise misplaced.
Sulked in despair, choices line your hair
With an intricate display:
Clusters of dismay intertwined
like vines in disarray,
The haphazard hodgepodge lodged
Deep within strands that meet the chin
And a slight grin to pull it all together.
Ties severed you keep in your lap
To overlap the missing gap
Just to remain in contention
But you can't conceal suspension.
Life holds unlimited retention
But only you can break the straps. †
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
"Among Some"
The new day will come.
At least that's what premonition tells me.
Memory serves with consistency.
Consistently,
I have observed your trials.
Choked down like vials
filled to the brim with poison,
You retch as you absorb them.
Them?
They that harbor your ill fortune.
Your bewildered flux in motion
A direct result of your devotion.
Stalwart dedication.
Inward excavation.
Strong enough to lead whole nations;
But too hollow to remain stationed.
Abandoned your sense of whimsy
For musings of the stern.
You've calibrated your focus;
But what have you really learned?
Earned your place among the counsel
Yet salvation still eludes you.
What of the prestigious structure
If it only stands to groom you?
Void the soul in firm control
Of that which holds no purpose.
Law and rule issued by tools
That fortify this hapless circus
But the new day will come.
Just beyond it all
lies the path on which some fall
Because they were not ready.
Steady hands mark balance.
Challenged are the victors
for they know they can deliver.
The ignorant are driven crazy.
They can't shake feeling lazy
But ambition has a slew of definitions.
For the many privy to free will,
Many fall to self imposed constriction.
Their complaints become their contradiction
But the new day will present itself.
How much help after it hurts?
Enough to wash away the dirt
And display one's rugged face
In the full allotment of grace?
Pray away what is displaced.
Eviscerate it all.
Each shard.
Every trace.
Run away.
Remain misplaced.
Then rue for all that will ensue
As if they need that bitter taste.
From our pasts we are flung
To clasp against life's rungs;
But some fall among the latter
That will not reach for the ladder.
They absorb all of the chatter;
Making grand what shouldn't matter;
Standing still where they are shunned
Before reaching for the gun.
But the new day……………………
…………………………………………
…………………………………………
……the new day knows nothing of requiem. †
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
