Sunday, March 22, 2015

"Pulse Two: Confine"

"Pulse Two: Confine"

I remember when I was
as gullible as children.
Impressed just as much.
Always ready to touch
and very little has changed since then.
Somewhere near intrigue.
That's where it begins.
Saw the shine.
You would blind with the sequins.
The fusion between confusion
and curiosity
only serves to disprove the mediocrity.

Where are the directions?
What's with this inflection?
I know I'm far from brilliant.
I don't need the new lessons.
The brave are fools that question
while looking for connections
without regard for if its hard
or some means of protection.

But this is life after all.

We have crawled
after evidence of walking.
We who hear everything
but have made no time for talking.
The chalk outlines our history
and I'm too pissed to be
the flame bearer
and the one waving the flag.
Who should pick up where I lag?
Is there one who stands appointed
or am I to sprawl disjointed
here before the hecklers?

You say they never matter
but you know better.

I'm not stupid
and you lack no intelligence.
Once the path was crossed
those days have grown distant ever since.
Never send the sheep to slaughter
especially when they are
compared to people.
If you look through the peephole,
you will see how ghastly
your conviction makes you look.
The musings of a crook
are charity to the misinformed.

Such is the norm.

Quick thoughts.
They swarm the conscience.
I no longer wonder why
the conscious minds are viewed as relics.

Even if you said it,
there's no shield against complacency.
The latency of independence
is true sorrow for thinkers
who become drinkers
to deal with the frustration.
Gone is the elation
coupled with deliberate originality

or decisiveness.
or divisiveness.
Just recycled shit
that men kill each other to cherish.

Here is where we perish.

God bless we who were
as gullible as children.
At least their curiosity
can still cut through mediocrity.

Your privacy intact
is just an act to entertain you.
The policy for washing brains
involves a strain
of hollow means to complain.

That's distraction.

While you complain,
somewhere ingrained
will be a plane
of truth contained.

Outlaw reaction.

For every faction we form
there will be reformed
a way to digress.
This is more than most will digest
but if you just sit at the table
you'll be fed much more than fables.

We watch the world spin around,
decide we're dizzy then lay down
and rise up with chains and string.
Life lived lost don't cost a thing.









 












Don't you think you've lost something?

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

___________________^__________

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

"Pulse One: Unzip"

"Pulse One: Unzip"

Eyes that plan like
eyeing plans like
tieing hands.
Those
binding hands so
idle then wild like
exploring child who
found the paste and
marked the face.




know the motion and
taste emotion.
It soothes like lotion.
This pungent potion,
it wreaks of fear.
those salty tears
that land in ears
I stack in tiers.
I have for years.


If

you could measure
your portion of pleasure,
your pearl on the pillow,
your coveted treasure, 


would you go through with it? 

Would you trust me with this blindfold?
Would you still believe if a lie is told?
How bold before you say "take it back?"
Do you still care if you make it back? 


Laying back.
Lying down.
On your knees.
On the ground.
Yeah I'm down
and if you frown
then pretend some laughter.
Leave the chatter.
We're here for now
but I'm leaving after.
No seeing after.
Just covered eyes.
Tug at the ties.
No knots to slip.
So vice the grip. 


So true the story. 

So vague my thoughts.
They lay before me.
One hand unbound
just for exploring.
You can't come down
so play before me.
Between the sounds
you reach out for me. 


You

get a firm grip
and would bite your lip
if not for handkerchief
lodged between teeth
where the moans would meet
with screams that expand lungs.
Tongue bounced between
cheek and dirty fabric.
Rapid fire rabid
like it was a habit.
Spoken tongues of glory.
Boundless sin before me.
Lips so raw and swollen.
Find some allegory.


Searched

for what it means.
Perched above like fiends.
You my latest dream
born of longest slumber.
Name among numbers.
You my favorite symbol.
Closer than the needle
but I hold the thimble.


How

you shake and tremble
bound and strapped in earnest.
Declined the ice water.
Feet placed near the furnace


and

pleasure you've furnished.
Can't stand so you learn this
through torture devised
 

to incur demise

at

each waking moment.
You hold no atonement.
Just the want for more  

sweat seeping from pores.

Wrists
bound to the door.
Stripped
down to the floor.
Gripped
you at your waist.
Lips
I bite to taste.


.......if you push me,
I won't say I'm sorry.
I can't pretend that time is thin
and wonder if you saw me.
You are the fang,
the fur
and the fin
but I promise safari.
Long since I've met such charming
firm figured flesh worth scarring.
Heart in the chest for sparring.
Heart worn on vest.


I'm starting

to wonder if
this is a gift
or my affliction.
I do this well
to soothe and quell.
This may be my addiction
but addiction
to affliction
isn't far from a prediction
and if so,
I'd let it show.
I will subscribe to no prescription. 































Listen.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz 

______________^________________