Saturday, May 24, 2014

"Charity Stripes"

"Charity Stripes"

To tell the truth
I would have to lie to fantasy.
There are few correlations
between fallacy and reality.
Fantasy the lead supplier
for liars and protectors.
Projectors disclose the chosen
after the full picture is broken;
strategically separated into fragments
one would presume the rest could palate.
The common source of habit and repetition
where we must decide on a vision
among options that should be more than this.
This cannot be all that exists.
Persistence is relative in ownership.
Create the right to keep away.
Believe the right to speak and say
with no true knowledge of ramification.
Treat propaganda like incantation
and the flock will lead the herd.
Trained to forget what you heard
if there is meaning to the words.

To tell the truth
I would live within the cross hairs.
Prepared for the despair
that comes with trying to repair
the impaired among me.
Those before me hung high
for our right to cry
when venting usual frustrations
over a consistent state of affairs
where we only really care
to reciprocate long winded conviction
amid the chance for contrition.
Affliction akin to patients
sealed and padded without patience
breaking teeth on their restraints
just to create some new complaints.
Heaven forbid the jagged edge.
They would score their skin deep.
God forbid the crumbling ledge.
They've been known to take the leap.

Pledge Allegiance To Manipulative Defiance.

This Is Science.

Profit from pink ribbons
and forget about breast cancer.
Give out tee shirts at the walk.
Endear them all to the enchanter.
Tell us we have advanced.
Ask us to take a chance.
Your noxious influence systemic
but there is no cure in your clinic.
In those vials a million trials.
Only some results disclosed.
Wouldn't dare think to expose
what likely exists in droves

Much Like Those Left To Die In Africa.

The vernacular imposed has grown stale.
So frail you seem in appearance
when suggesting clearance after discovery.
You have yet to discover me.
I number in the millions
and stand before you in need of healing
but you would rather pad my feelings.


I feel like there is more.
Don't complain about the chore
when I ask what is in store.
So much more of my currency
but no breakthrough currently.
Just lots of "Steady Progression."
My anger you perceive as aimless obsession
when I refuse to employ concession.

I feel like being cured.
Your progression just hurts me.
My daughter was raped.

Where Is Her Cure For Herpes? 

I feel so impure.
Your digression is disturbing.
My homeland is dying.

Does The Vaccine Exist? What Profit Are You Earning? 

What are you learning?
Questions are still burning
in this churning gut of mine.

My Mother Is Running Out Of Time.

These donations feel like fines.
Research labor undefined
and I'm out here running miles
just for you to run some trials?

To tell the truth,
you must reclaim this fallacy I see

and destroy the imposed fantasy to be

But I'm Sure You Won't Take That From Me.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Monday, May 12, 2014

"The Blackout Part 6: Requiem"

"The Blackout Part 6: Requiem"

This will be very exciting.
Said the same thing
when we first met.
First fret over when we would reach
the last day before increased distance.
First sweat dripping from the brow.
We share similar nights now.
First set of diamond encrusted whatever
as long as we stay together.
My desperation much more implicit then.
I consistently remember when
trapped within back then.

Back when the pain was pleasurable
and we broke skin to find treasures
buried deep beneath the layers.
Prayers for our indecent display.
Dismay on the faces of the concerned.
Images still burned into minds.
Days never as far behind
as one would think they should be.
Should we take alternate routes?
If asked about your whereabouts,
I might relinquish the truth.
Can't explain this stained suit.

Truth will tell you of my obsession.
Transgression no sufficient threat
so I chose to make you sweat.
Are you excited yet?
I bet.
If only you could get behind
but you recline against my mind instead.
You said you let go.
I know.
Didn't listen, though.
You just couldn't show
what I refused to throw away.

Such an eventful day……
I thought you'd pack light.
Now I'm forced to pack heavy.
Steady my intent upon unstable foundation.
For what this may concern,
we deserve their indignation.
We have earned ourselves an urn.
My best stab at alliteration.
God in Heaven watched us try.
We struggled just to thrive
after burying the past alive.
Blunt reminders spread like hives.
Crawling under skin.
Blood running thin
clotted in between flesh
and these fresh fabrications.
Libation amplifies the rapture.
Capture half yoked while sober.
Took you where the air gets colder
and visitors seldom tread.

Remember what you said?
I recall every single phrase.
The haze enough to leave me faint.
You would taint my thoughts in lecture
but conjecture is of no use here.
Dear sweet complete with lifeless trimming.
The beginning certainly more vibrant
than what you're adorned in today.
Crimson and cream your last display.
The sky gray in culmination
of one last sudden sensation
and I can hardly contain it anymore.
Before we are found,
life will drown in oceans of fire.
We must retire in good time.
I couldn't erase all the lines.

Honest excitement in your countenance.
You almost appear somewhat contrived.
Frail and pale you lay atop this heap.
Calm yourself and fall asleep.
I will follow close behind.
I promised never to back out.
You are the light I'll never find
so we'll both embrace the blackout. 

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Friday, May 2, 2014

"The Blackout Part 5: Ownership"

"The Blackout Part 5: Ownership"

Left to recall times
when it was all so amazing.
I feel it fading.
It lingers in feint reminder
of what only exists to prove
that its existence is truly futile.
Feudal our favored approach.
After all, what difference does property
uphold to souls sought in propriety?
Wherein do we not resemble society?

High time to keep up with them.
Steeped in troubles of the world
that we swore to exclusivity.
Are you kidding me?

None of this is normal.
Less of it is formal, granted
but a love we deem heavy handed
was never far from the standard

so I don't blame you.

Who will tame you?

Names you exclaim
that incite no beckon of me
yet you confide in me.
Threads you don't really want
intermingle with your grasp.
With every gasp, the fight grows ever so pointless.
Who wants who?
Who wants to?
Who needs this?
Ran the risk years behind
but our hindsight is all about face
and the beliefs couldn't be more contradictory.

Lost as we are, I won't blame we.

You fill me.

You feel me with time passing.
We always crash into that moment.
Two twin beds no match for that floor.
Creaking door cracked where care escaped.
No comforter.
No sheet.
Not even a drape to mask our debauchery.
I your only cape. My conquest bent before me.

You fill we.

Commands sharp and stern
concerned with precision
that of scalpels upon first incision.
What is riled in division
we compiled into this mission.
Pushed back to tug forward.
Lunged forth to the brink of pulsation.
Repeated fits of elation between us.

If only the world could've seen us…………

You feel we.

Twice that night and never again.
Cumbersome love.
Awkward friends.
Exceptional when guided by lust, though

and I don't blame you.
Who could blame me?

This is the same we
sworn to follow where feelings wander.
Lord knows where the mind gave up.
We stick it in to pull it back out.
We were bound to black out eventually.
Sensual the ability used to mask fault lines
etched deeper than chalk chiseled though concrete.
All that appeared complete was our implosion.

Present one who would dare
find fault among the chosen.

I still pretend as if
that manner of judgment doesn't exist.
I persist in mockery of we:
Celebration of the past,
preconceived punishments we've cast,
dreams that always seem to last
and threats to those looking to dash
but no chance to hash it out at last

So I can't possibly blame you
lest I am ready to blame myself
and I am far from willing.
Time not half as unforgiving
as the mind never forgetting
what brings us back to that night.
I even chose to whisper your name
in moments where I came all the same.

Shame my presumed belonging
yet I'm longing to be shackled;
bound before the bawl and cackle
of a life that bore our story.
Place me in your inventory.
Shelve me close within your reach.
Share our secrets or just keep
them long enough for all to breach.

This is all that I beseech. 

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz