Sunday, May 17, 2015

"Fair Warning"

"Fair Warning"


Don't fall in love with Poets.

Not meaning "unless you're ready."
More like "if you can avoid it altogether."
Conviction tougher than shoe leather.
Heart the softest confection known to man.
Damnation reserved for we you hold dear
until we are deemed far too "Shakespeare."
We are the highlight of your day
and the one that got away.
We are the game people play
when our questions meet delay

so stay away.

You will rue the day after awaiting our arrival.
Evaporators of your past.
Rivals of your future
purporting those bittersweet "remember when" moments.
Atonement nonexistent in lieu of persistence.
Consistent in our displays of affection
despite your purposeless deflections.
We hang in recollection
as proof of everlasting effect.
More enchanted with ambiguous than direct.

I'm not done. Don't interject.

Don't do this to yourself.

Every detail amplified in our eyes.
The skies are cluttered with our attention.
Knowledge retention while prerequisite
is far less exquisite when discussing transgressions.
Inspired by unbalanced progression earned.
We are the lesson that few have learned
burned in to the mind until time releases all.

Feel free to slip but please don't fall.

Responsible for slightly more than half
of every time you cry or laugh.
Every gasp a feint reminder
resetting the timer that is your desire and regret.
Our mannerisms your best bet
when discussing the prototypical frantic
hopeful soul willing to lose control
just to remain a hopeless romantic.
You will panic over losing us
or our trust
or just some semblance of chivalry.

Spare yourself that misery.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Friday, May 1, 2015

"4.30 Of 30: Reach"


Can't think of what I'm missing.
Don't know what I've envisioned.
Across my face ...

without a trace.
I guess I should've listened.

Wouldn't show me
but you told me
to learn
when to recognize my limits
and when to ignore them.

Thought I had time
to explore them first.

That was the problem.

Procrastination that would steer
me toward my greatest fear
full of tears
and self regret.
Priorities I would forget
giving way to memories
that hurt to recall.

Am I falling for it all?

Can I crawl?
Am I drifting with no anchor?

One should never labor
with no intent to retire.
I am tired
and much stands before me.
My hands...
callous and forming issues
I'm too young to acknowledge.
There's no need for working knowledge
I may never get to pass on.

I've passed out inadvertent lessons.

Greatest of my transgressions
given the impression
on which I have been perceived.

I appear to have achieved
that which I surely lack
all while falling back.
Afraid I may not thrive
from this involuntary dive
when there are
no open hands to claim me.

Only I can save me.



~ Society Of Poets ~

 ~ 30 ~

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"4.29 Of 30: Semester"


Had you on my mind
like the first day
Time lost in the grind
in the worst way.
Hurt me more.
Repeat words you'd say.
but I show up
on your birthday. 

You are therapy.
Way too fair not to see.
Not for me you are.
Not yet by far.
Here in this car
out in public
subject to acts
that should only take place


They don't give us enough of that.
Always a hindrance.
An annoyance.
No enjoyment in watching
how often you interact
with him.

Your friends only like him
in hopes of one day
being a sufficient replacement.
My friend tells me
that I wouldn't gain your affection
with such aggressive statements
but the truth can't lie
and I might die
or just go over the edge
and push you both over the ledge
just to keep him from happening.

This is not acting.

Those notes in your locker:
No facade.
Sitting tables across from you:
No coincidence.

Even this very instance.
This very moment.
I swear this is we.
We were meant to be.

Fully aware
and I see
frightened faces when they ask


This is so US!

Do you trust me?
Are you lusting?
Please don't shove me....
........ DON'T YOU LOVE ME?!

Wet gloves with the answer.
Answering machine wiped clean.
"Do Not Disturb"
from front door to the curb.
On my nerves as they cackle
ringing louder than the shackles
I received after acceptance.

False admission of guilt.
Hard bed with no quilt.
Built true love in my eyes

but they say I lived a lie.

That just can't be.
He may have lost you
and there is no we
but you're still with me.....

........ you loved me.

Didn't you?

~ Society Of Poets ~

~ 30 ~

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"4.28 Of 30: Comeback Reason"

"Comeback Reason"

Season of forever
and together.
Time where promises
consist of nevers
that are never said.

Officially unofficial
so it remains superficial.

Months where the cold bed
finds occupants aplenty.
Gently courting fabric and down
until one is swiftly
"locked down"
and taken out of the running.

Running away in due time.
Due favor for labor
once considered appreciated.
We hated what we've become

but found ourselves proud of the reminisces.

The recollection of kisses.
Boundless promises.
Fond acknowledgements
that often sting to remember.

Nights in December
when we would flaunt and frolic;
broadcasting to the world
what they never cared to know.
We would show them every crease
that we neglected to address;
be it my three piece
or your black dress.

Memories of sex
finer than my favorite liquor.
Forgiver of certain transgressions
and forgetter of most lessons
that aim to abstain
from another ride

on the train to perdition:

A selfish mission
filled with hot nights,
rough fights,
dim lights
and the longest days
in a myriad of ways
that turn my stomach as I digest....

.......I digress.....

Season of greed
where the want
overlaps need.
The seed planted among the envious.
Enchantment in the draw
strong enough to hide the flaw
and focus on instantaneous.
Extraneous at the core

but no matter

for in these days.....
we want more
and more
and more still.
More thrill.
Less contingency.
More frills.
Less latency.

Season where "wait for me"
is all but nonexistent.
The persistent
insist with earnest
that they've earned this encounter.
Count her among the rest

if that is the best you could hope for.

If so,
what would you waste hope for?

~ Society Of Poets ~

~ 30 ~

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"4.27 Of 30: Torrential"


Object of my perversion.
Might incite some dispersion.
Tongue in cheek.
Sprung a leak
now I look for diversions.

Not like the subtle version.
My methods proven simple.
We flirt awhile,
I trace that smile
and compliment those dimples.

Gentle as Gentile
without pagan sensibilities.
Obscenities in slight
at the sight of
what I'd love to fondle.

Handle me like handles
channeled through tight grips.
More friction as hands slip;
twisting like knobs.
Throbbing prosperously...
...sloppily through slobber...
...reaching for control
as if to reap my very soul away.

Staying long enough
to make the mess substantial
and get creative with cleanliness.
Silliness a sign
of a benign façade
grinding away at the chance
to become less formal
and much more freelance.

Thoughts dance in trance.
Your stance on the matter
puzzling at first.
we guzzle from thirst
we've yet to request fully quenched.

The smell.
The stench.
Eyes squint
Thighs clench
close enough to drown me.

Navigating mystic rivers.
Ignoring the shore
and taking on more water.
Harder to swim away from
given the sum of slow indulgences
experienced in increasing intensity.

Given my propensity,
the sky will part when you send for me.

~ Society Of Poets ~

~ 30 ~

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"4.26 Of 30: Envisioned In Sepia"

"Envisioned In Sepia"

Those eyes....


Some times I wonder
why your mornings
are so hazy.
Everyone gets lazy
but your disposition is...
........initially dormant.

Informed and abreast
of your best efforts
to hide the worst
of your occurrences,
I burn away
until you let down your
The sensation felt before touching.
Rushing warmer through me
than the blood in my veins.
Linked by chains
of mutually desired contact,
I long to preserve
what you cannot keep intact
on your own

So you can zone in
if you wish
and create diversions
and hope for aversion

like how
those eyes.....


Dead set.
Locked on mine.

So careful,
those eyes
as they hold me
guiding me to thighs
as smooth as light's embrace
before it retires for the night.
Slowly dimming light
in peach, grey,
grape and amber colors
bouncing softly against skin
I've only imagined between internal lecture.....

.......effective in conjecture
but not enough to dash concern.

I aim to learn;
not just earn the right.
Your stare tells stories
of fights you've waged forever.
Hard plastic,
metal frame,
all the same.
Masks woven in
or leather
whether it remains
is of no discern to me.

You cannot hide what you are to be.

So look at me.
Don't shy away.
I won't pry away
but I will try each day

until I see
those eyes....

That perfectly smoky,
dreary disposition,
eyes fully focused
yet not ambitiously locked
on anything more
than what endears you to them.

Eyes that lead mine to
lips as complimentary.
Very standalone.
Lips that refuse to part
to acknowledge the world
swirling in madness around you.

Those who've never found you
would not appreciate the search.
Upon this bedside I am perched.
Not nervous. Very certain
next to curtains billowing
between air as crisp as winter.

You've filtered everything
I've paid a degree of interest to
and offered me a stare.
A glare between blinks
where I wouldn't dare think
to do look away this day

Or another, should I be so wise

to cherish time lost
in those eyes....

~ Society Of Poets ~

 ~ 30 ~

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"4.25 Of 30: Cornerstone Kettle"

"Cornerstone Kettle"

I used to miss the feeling.
Another cup.
Some things are worth revealing
only when we let it be.
You thrive on stints of action.
That one knee jerk reaction
that puts on a show
for all you know
and everyone else to see.

I'd rather sip this tea.

I'll take time
as long as it is being offered.
Harbored some concern
for your deliberate discernment.
In turn,
the perceived oblivious me
was not initially at liberty
to do anything about
your siding with determent.
Determined against my own.
Would challenge my tone
as if I emerged from your loins.
because staying
may incur the stains
that this lifetime can't wipe clean.

How obscene
to believe you have dominion
with a few opinions
and a lot less influence?

You speak out of rhythm fluently.

My truancy
will accompany dismay
for on this day,
I will not wait for YOUR outcome.
You've outrun your help.
Even yourself as you breathe deep.
You wouldn't crawl
and I no longer creep.

Oh yes...

...I used to miss the feeling.
I used to
but there's nothing left
that is worth revealing.
We're years past repealing
and much of it
isn't worth dealing with

so I'll sit here
and I'll ponder
while your heart flails
and you flounder about
wondering how I've found
the way out from it all.
How to silence every call.
How to land if I should fall.
You will acknowledge secrecy.
You will hate that facing me

will imbue my latency.

Pour yourself a cup of tea.

~ Society Of Poets ~

 ~ 30 ~

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"4.24 Of 30: Sanctuary"


You should've noticed.

Be sure to notice me....
Find the clues.
Solve the mystery.
Imagery predetermined and forged.
I want you to gorge
on everything that I do.
Won't have the time
to walk you in direction

so follow instructions.

Construction of the pander
circling your everyday planner.
Scanner of your means
lining your jeans with my errands.

You should notice.

Don't divert your focus
from me.
I am all that you see.
I am all you desire.
I the wick and the fire.
You extinguished in dereliction.
You need me for protection.
Keyed in on your inflection
and noted your confusion.

You're delusional.

I your working clarity.
Nothing makeshift.
Nothing breaks quick
once applied.
All allied against my plans for you
I will subdue
and neutralize
before I order you to
Purge them of their hope
and their courage.

Should I be lost,
then rummage through
their pockets.
Sell the trinkets.
Pawn the locket.
I'm high on your ledger
and your docket.

Don't you drop it!!!!

More precious than gold.
The pressure so bold
to meet sufficiency
so tread with great efficiency
when carrying out my tasks.
Be it the pipe
or blunt
or needle
or flask,
I won't ask
and I won't leave you.
You depend on me

but let's pretend:

"I Need You."

 should've noticed......

~ Society Of Poets ~

 ~30 ~

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"4.23 Of 30: The Established"

"The Established"

Let's be clear
and let's be here

because it's hard
to see through the distance.
Pretty dark
pretty awkward
when it isn't pretty
and we're just not ready
and we become petty
and take stabs
in that darkness.

Torn apart from
what we will not part with
so we start shit
and disparage the finisher.
Listeners of little
lost to thoughts so simple
there aren't enough
to fill the complex
and we just don't
feel the context.
We have no clue.
Don't know what's due.
Can't match this hue
Can't do much more

with the store closed.

Always thought about the day
I'd have to store clothes.

Thank God that container is still empty.

I observe all who envy
and really wonder why
they tend to covet this life.
Doesn't mean it's all great
or they won't get their fair shake

but the brakes will not break you.

They may take you
through more time than anticipated
but what runs rampant
is a lot less enchanted

and extremely antiquated.

If not regulated,
not time
should be sedated.
Dedicated to the process
of no expedited progress
lest I wish to fully digress
and miss it all

with no one to call.

~ Society Of Poets ~

 ~ 30 ~

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz