Sunday, March 27, 2016

"Timeless Part 4: Strings"

"Timeless Part 4: Strings"

The fringe.
Sourced by misfortune
I've binged on.
I've been gone
but my remnants are in
your line of sight.
Naivety teaches you
that my good nights
are when the room is silent
like violence needs
an audience.
Calling this the peaceful purchase.
The peace you've purchased.
The peace of purchase
but pieces surfaced
long before I checked in bags
or underwent the jetlag
proportionate to the distance traveled. 

like frills
unraveled until thin
and fine.
Chills down the spine,
sore the neck
and bruised the shoulders.
Air colder than conditioned.
Thought I'd listen once I faced
thoughts that still just hunt and chase
and swipe
and swing
at life to bring
me lower than
this trench I've flooded.
Not long before rough and rugged
are the safest ways to suffer.
Strength not mustered.
Time not salvaged.
Lost in clusters.
Damned from boil to bandage
disadvantaged like I've planned this
while this far away. 

I've timed less
on the timeless.
The things that endure
were never as pure to me as pain.
Nothing stays quite like the stain
and my brain much like this train
is a bullet piercing thoughts trapped in the tunnel.
I appear undone
to the not quite whole
who prefer to poke holes
in hopes of saving their souls
from what none of us can outrun.
More outdone than un.
Less feeling for one
or a few feigning concern.
Took your turn
and took mine away
so you'll be blind the day
that I pick up and leave.
Sit and try to conceive.
Maybe we'll find reprieve in both ways. 

The shears again threaten the thread.
I tread haphazardly in navigation.
Nothing matters of the latter but the fringe.
Fatter in my binge.
The unhealthy has dealt me
a loose hand.
Thought of the truce
but it gets cold when I fold
so I play it out.
Ive laid it out
for no one to bear witness.
Purpose of the distance.
Punctuality like cavities
carving craters in each sentence.
Plane prescribed plain
to kill pain without the dentist
but the same plains from which
I abscond and abstain
in search of the sane
might be where my portion remains... 

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

"Timeless Part 3: God Is He"

"Timeless Part 3: God Is He"
Babygirl, I apologize.
I see life's lies in your eyes 
and I want to revise: 
God is He. 
Can he say sorry? 
God is He in all.
It's glory. 
You are no neighbor to me but a mockery of sincere pleas.
Beg. I want you on your knees.
Get down. Pray to the most High 
beating your chest when her heart is at rest. 

How many times will you kiss her with deception? 
How many times will you speak of wrong direction? 
How many times will you say everything is gonna be fine? 
How many times will you fuck her pussy instead of her mind? 

You imprison her, beyond misogynistic. 
Soon time it'll only be conjugal visits. 
She'll turn to stone and be wrapped in snakes
because she has nothing at stake, becoming a foe.
Not being able to fix it so you deem her a hoe.

You can't hand out time with unclear signs.
You can't hand out time when its a poisonous vine.
You can't blame women when God is in their eyes.
You can't blame women when they beam sunshine. 

She revealed you to you.
Your battle isn't her truth.
Your forced powers are elegant masks draped in chivalry. 
You are not Moses just because you've parted seas.
Women stay wet on their own. 
Even though tears drop, they are from her home. 
You can state facts all you want for condone.
No need to speak life, she has two lips of her own.  
She has four reasons to speak life into your soul. 

You may be handsome in spirit and a legend on the streets 
but it is women who carry your legacy.
You can hold everything, even your pride.
God is she and she rules time.
Dear brother, pardon me.
I see what is marred of we
and wish to adjust accordingly.

God is she.
Should God be contrite?
She is God holistically
in all her magnificence.

You are no trophy.
Just a puppet running out of plans
whose hands and knees should greet the pavement
more than those before enslavement ended.
Render yourself to the celestial
whether riddled in those shackles
due to circumstance or your volition.

How long will breaking hearts become tradition?
How long will you remain within transition?
How far along must he follow behind?
How far does this plot truly run in your mind?

You accost him past the point of material means
where a tempest of jewelry and designer jeans
rip violently through what was once the ideal
concept of what a good man provides.

You've had less time and did more damage.
You've made less time to apply that bandage
and you can't blame one for the multitude.
You can't blame the masses for what one truly exudes.

To confide in you
is a task not as arduous
as society would have you believe.
Being his reprieve
does not absolve responsibility.
Stability is paramount
and accountability essential.
The instrumental can't escape the truth in their actions.
Consistency is not a run on sentence
nor is it a redaction
but a constant reaction to a change
that needed to take place.
He cannot be disgraced
while you long to save face.
Shortcomings will forever be prolonged
when fighting each other for the throne.
and He
and lust for control
and there's no real rush
to find one's soul.

You may be gorgeous enough to be claimed as spouse
but it takes more than bricks to build the house.
What isn't firmly rooted will rise with the tide.
God is he.
Set false idols aside.
Written By: Evelyn Rivera and Devin Joseph Metz

Sunday, March 6, 2016

"Timeless Part 2: Red Eyes"

"Timeless Part 2: Red Eyes"

A couple million miles from home.
By myself.
I fly alone.
Just one bag.
One carry-on.
Just tonight and then I'm gone.
Swift as the emergency.
Movement with some urgency.
You can't take this hurt from me.
Can't let you take the nerve of me. 

Made my way throughout the thick.
Snatched the candle.
Cut the wick.
Stretched me thin.
It made me sick.
Wearing thin
so I made it quick.
Repackaged and purposed me.
Repackaged me purposely.
Had that candle burn for me. 

Cut the wick.
No burn for free. 

Man of action.
Verb is he.
Sent the faction to murder me.
Men of action murder thieves.
Think then act 

or hurt for me. 

Mind dismantled from the start.
Mine just travels in the dark
but mine intact retains the fact
that there's no use in coming back. 

Swift as the emergency.
Movement with some urgency.
You can't take this hurt from me.
Can't let you take the nerve of me. 

Nothing recent to report.
No reaction. No retort.
Eerie how those words contort
until there's order in the court.
Stalked in silence.
Hunt for sport
as if the violence was resort
to fortify a hoard of eyes
that now wonder why you're mortified. 


I chimed in some kindness
to help with the blindness. 


I practiced well wishes
to help with the sickness. 


Don't act like you miss this.
Enough with that sick shit. 


Not here when you visit.
Less time for more business. 

I'm timeless and vicious.
Elastic and viscous.
Outlasting your first sip
and choking you senseless.
Was livid. I'm listless.
Resolved as relentless.
Involved and indignant
aching for this distance. 

Repackaged and purposed me.
Repackaged me purposely. 

No departing words from me.
Witness charged a service fee.
Told them that you've heard of me.
Atop the skies where eyes can't see.
Above the clouds reserved for me.
Frequent miles. I fly for free
with this notebook next to me.
Overnight flight to Italy... 

Written By:Devin Joseph Metz

Friday, March 4, 2016

"Timeless Part 1: Prologue"

"Timeless Part 1: Prologue" 

Poet in five letters.
Throw me. I fly better
with blessings from the river.
No love letters delivered
to the address
of those vexing
me for plain text
meshed together cleverly.
Distressed heavily
over the lame sex you're treasuring. 

Stressed Poet. 

Less Poets
would admit the same
that the best Poets
get noticed
for less in their name
unless the eyes observe thighs
or the lengthy protrusion.
Confusion I can't salve.
We give the world two halves
but they just eat dessert. 

Overt this message going forward.

Nothing worse in the least
than viewed as merchants in streets
looking to sell or compete
when living hell to complete
and feel like more than stories told
of the daring and the bold
silk array,
flirt and play to get you wet,
skirt and stay until you fret
and other things that I regret
you giving full attention to. 

Truth be told,
It's overdue. 

Rest my hair to fit the crown.
Cultured thief.
Sir Thomas Crown
here to extract your expectation,
prediction and stale elation.
Without lust,
You're bored, I see.
Some of you will grow bored with me.
More perceived as chores
to be ignored but I implore:

Look past lapels and satin
and gimmicks your mind is wrapped in.
See it all for the first time.
Far beyond the words that rhyme
between lines
and behind the grace.
Drew this line
just to mark the place
where you first realized
that the one trick rhyme
serves a one track mind
that should do more with less time. 

Poet in five letters.
Can't search for five better 

Influence in

We Are Timeless... 

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz