"Air Conditioning (Fair Weather)"

"Air Conditioning (Fair Weather)"


It's okay. I get it:
The weather is fair.


Temporary fans and critics are numerous
Like the braids in my hair.
Sometimes, they point and laugh.
Other times, they sit and stare;
But they all hate the fact
That I really don't care.
I may not fuel the fire;
But I'm still very aware.
One can say the right words
And a multitude will follow
Until similar verses are deemed absurd.
That's when the halls become hollow.
I'll spill no skills for you to wallow.
I'm not a pill that you can swallow.
I've been called a class act;
But never asked for you to follow.


It's okay. I get it:
The weather is fair.


Then why do "enlightened fellas"
Fight over the umbrellas?
Why are the "good girls"
Still protecting their curls?
Go ahead. Cover your head.
Don't let it seep through those pores.
The truth is hovering overhead.
That's all that I have in store.
You claim to love that "Real Talk;"
Say that it's needed more
Until it's outlined in chalk;
Killed because you've grown bored.
Noble things that were once admired
You now seem to abhor.
You fashioned and fawned desire;
But now, you just blatantly ignore.


But it's okay. I get it.
The weather is still fair.


Listless knaves of twisted perception;
Enslaved by what you think is free will.
You blindly subscribe to transgression;
Thinking progression yet standing still.
You leeching slew of selective fans
Reaching out for my hands
While pretending to understand
If it will help bolster your plans!
You're full of shit!
You make me sick!
Find some consistency,
You pathetic band of hypocrites!
You're like the preacher in the pulpit
Denouncing divorce among the few:
a congregation of empty minds
Where ex wives line most of the pews.


But it's okay. I get it.
The weather is so very fair.


Unwise to think I'm unaware
Of the not so subtle way
That you will cosign my content
Contingent upon what others say.
All one has to do is comment
On how it made them "feel that way"
And you'll race in hopes to find it
When I posted it a week from yesterday.
No need to repeat
If you saved it.
Too late to retweet.
Can't find it in your favorites.
I likely will never boast.
My confidence need not be spiked
By those who don't read the wall post
But jump at the chance to like.
If it's not something controversial
Or words to make the panties wetter,
You'll adhere to role reversal
And become a skillful forgetter.


But it's okay. I get it.
The weather is ever so fair.


So fair.
This fair weather...
Bathing you in your ignorance
like a pedophile's love letter.
Look at those storm clouds.
Watch them scream loud with thunder
As the lightning smacks the ground;
Leaving aimless minds asunder.
You don't recognize your plight.
You can't identify your blunder.
You just stare up at the light
While your lives are swiftly plundered.
I subscribe to better sight;
But you just say I run and hide
When I don't choose to fight
Instead of staying where I reside.
It's not a matter of pride.
I just stick to what I decide.
I'm too old for ridiculous rides.
I've something much better inside.


It's okay. Go on.
Enjoy that fair weather.


Group hug. Band together.
Get that sporadic clothing wetter.
Only the foolish vacate the shelter
In earnest chase of the trendsetter.
I won't live up to your claims.
I am not in need of fame.
I'm not wild; but can't be tamed.
I will not forsake my name.
I am so much more
Than you could ever proclaim.
We are not one in the same
Because I don't delight in shame;


So I don't want your groundless praise.
Please spare me the accolades.
If your words aren't from the heart,
Then lose yourself in that maze
Of the foolishly unrelenting
Who can strategically remember forgetting
About the message that I'm sending;
Scrambling to start from their ending.
Quite sad that artificial air
Can seamlessly ebb and flow
To serve me beyond compare
That which you should long to know;
But you swear that you were listening.
You tell me that I'm glistening
Only to then say that I'm sickening.
I'll just stick to air conditioning.


It's okay. I get it.
The weather is fair.
That fair weather gets you wetter;
But I believe this air is better.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Drive And Devotion"

"Drive And Devotion"


My determination
Involves distinct dissertation
Lined with astute articulation
To help liberate whole nations.
I'm not here to enslave
Or chastise those who misbehave.
Their minds are trapped in caves;
So I'm merely here to save.
They will call us knaves
And say that we're untrue;
But if you're willing to stand still,
We can give them all their due.


I try to manipulate the nation
by facilitating the people.
That's the route of my destination.
Surviving in this world 
requires some adaptation 
with these problems that we're facing.
It's time for some change
if we really want to make it.
I'm determined for better days 
liberation.
No matter what you've been through, 
we can still progress.
So my mission is to empower 
so we wont regress
and we wont regret
the future is tomorrow.
No time to rest.


Indeed there is a dire need.
So many minds to feed.
My heart profusely bleeds 
To see true potential slowly recede.
We've lost the will to know.
We stopped asking why
And as the tension grows,
Ambition towards knowledge slowly dies.
The worst of it all?
We are strong enough to endure.
We have the wherewithal;
But choose to remain obscure.
We rile in ignorant illness;
Forgetting that we are the cure.
Progress falters into stillness
After trudging through the impure.


With knowledge comes success;
even for the oppressed.
Rejection is progression
as our actions become erect.
The reflection in the mirror
is who we hope to become next.
Sleep is human nature;
so dreams are in effect.
Politicians are corrupted.
Who do we elect?
In a materialistic world, 
only money gets respect.
Put some knowledge in the mental. 
Watch our brains resurrect.
a better brain is better thoughts;
so we think with intellect.
Achieving is succeeding.
Ambition is believing.
A leader in our pathway 
is what the nation's needing.


I see exactly what you mean.
You seem to have planned well; but we need a bigger scene.
Let's think on a grand scale.
We should aim for international
Instead of just what is preset.
They act as if it's magical.
They don't know: there is no reset.
Salvage the true and factual
Before they deem each other rejects.
All forms of change are taxable.
They don't know they're paying fees yet.
It's quite common amongst our plains:
We choose lifestyles that we can't tame,
Adhere to what we can't maintain,
And have the nerve to still proclaim.
We long and thirst for fame;
So we get knee deep in these games
And find no reason to complain
Until our shirts are blotched and stained.
Reckless life is such a strain.
It just leaves room for disdain
Over that which we can't contain
As we rile in self induced pain.
This is why we must work.
Show the world it's true worth.
Give the hollow something to follow
So they can acquire necessary girth.


We take advantage of life's options:
Act without caution.
We can find many souls 
being sold off at auctions.
It surely is a shame 
what people falsely proclaim;
constantly asking for change. 
No action. Just complain.
Would rather hustle on the street; 
getting paid in blood stains.
The same remains until change...




Life is in the form of movies; 
so let's switch up the scene.
A college degree comes second fiddle 
to being a rapper or to sing.
There are such things 
as unrealistic dreams
when you reject opportunities
that success tries to bring
Excuse these words that 
are perceived as cynical;
but effort and success 
eventually becomes identical.
If only generations can manage priorities,
we wont be labeled 
as the majority or minority
but as people that want 
to see everyone succeed.
Now thats a grand scale thought. 
Now let the vision proceed.


Yes.....


Let's grab the seeds,
till the ground,
fill those mounds,
pull those weeds, 
gather them around,
wake up the world!
Let them hear the sound
of willing hands tearing down
despicably low class,
crude and crass,
half-assed closed minds.
Make them leave it all behind.
We cannot control the damage
caused to what we hold dear
unless we first learn how to manage
that which filters through our ears.


Ideas shouldn't remain as such;
even if very few care as much.
The potential to be profound
is not inclined to who is around.
The thoughts that churn within me
are not predicated on who befriends me.
One's ability to act and be
shouldn't be affected by who will see;
but thank God that there are some
who share this lush, bright vision.
There's very little to be done
for those who cling to indecision.
The indifferent are just twisted;
No dominion for them to claim.
The complacent are surely insipid;
too dull and bland to light the flame;
But you truly understand
that to reach one's destiny,
a plan cannot remain a plan.
The silent screams are deafening.


There's so much more to see.
We have yet to scratch the surface.
Everyone deserves to be.
We are here to serve a purpose.
Together we can bring them out;
these stagnant lives in need of motion;
but we can't force what isn't wanted.
We can only offer our devotion.


Written By: Courtney "Metaphysical Poet" and Devin Joseph Metz "EndlessInkPen"

"From New Orleans, With Love"

"From New Orleans, With Love"


I am part of the high rise.


Those moist eyes
that walked across the bridge
just to excape water.
In search of food and water
sitting atop the shoulders of my father.
Brother consoles my mother.
Eyes close like shutters
whilst I wipe the debris stains.
My eyelids part to see them shudder
at the sight of a gun barrel.
We complain.
We shout and vent our pain
and still attempt to cross those plains
only to receive punctured brains.


I am a traveler from a recent past.


I'm out of resources.
I've used my very last.
I'm winded and gassed
and tired of being treated
like a nomad or outcast.
I've lost what I had;
but not my identity
so don't associate me
with your idea of iniquity.
I am not an obscenity.
You may not be kin to me;
but show me some humanity.


I am the city.


The fresh canvas painted
atop what was once tainted.
I swear that I almost fainted.
What a sight to see:
Churches with new mosaics;
shining bright lights for me.
Brick laden streets with new pavement
that countless travelers come to see.


I am still something more
although I'm not fully restored.


I am that trip to the corner store
to get a fish plate for $7.54.


I am winter nights in the CBD;
stepping out of the River Walk at 6:53.


I am a wonder in this world.
I am where you want to be.
Southern Gentlemen and Beautiful Girls
that you thought you'd never see.


I am fantastic;
such a marvelous spectacle.
I am Bayou Classic.
I am Essence Festival.


I am your favorite restaurant
with all the foods you love to eat.
I am fashion and music.
I am that rhythm in your feet.
I am a lush, rich culture.
I am that place you like to meet.
I am large floats in February
that you wave at on Poydras Street.


I'll admit that I'm not all great.
I am a record crime rate.
I am the harbor for young rebels
who are vulgar and irate;


but if you give me a chance,
I'll give you something to appreciate.
I can't cleanse the past from my hands;
but that doesn't mean I'm not great.


I am like nothing you've ever seen:
More loving than any guy or girl.
I am New Orleans:
The greatest city in the world.


From New Orleans, with love.<3
Laissez les bons temps rouler!


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Deviant Decadence"

‎"Deviant Decadence"


I've asked myself a thousand times:
"Do I really want to do this?"
I have the script. I've studied the lines;
But I act as if I never knew this.
Those are familiar lips.
They will offer no new kiss
And I recognize those hips.
Leftover lust. Not a new dish.
I'm still unsure if I should do this:
Search old seas for new fish,
Act like throwback is new bliss
As if she holds my true wish.
I won't lie.
Some things I do miss;
She was my tomb.
I was Anubis.
I was locked within her womb.
She held me deep inside.
She knows I'd never leave soon.
I just take root and confide.
Time was never really an issue.
We always found a way to bide
As we conjoined flesh and tissue
As if to strap up for a ride.


I sit back and reminisce,
Relax, wax and repeat
And have yet to notice
That I'm in her passenger seat.
I turn to look at her;
But she is focused on the highway.
She tells me that it's my choice.
We can do everything my way.
What more could I say?
I can't believe I just said that.
I've clearly lost my way.
I don't know where my head's at.
I guess it's time to knuckle up.
I just buckle up and fall back.
My girl just hit me up.
It goes to voice mail. I'll call back.
Not right now, though.
Hell, she might be asleep later.
My conscience tells me not to go;
But I can't seem to play evader.
She winks at me. I blink back.
This makes no sense! I used to hate her!
My girl is what she severely lacks;
So why should I accommodate her?
Why was it so easy to bait her?
Why couldn't I just dismiss
Someone who always was the fader;
Stealing sunlight & keeping me pissed?


I've no clue of what to think next.
I didn't plan any of this.
That's when my girl sent me a text:
A smiley face, a heart and a kiss;
But before I could reply,
Overhead lights blinded my eyes.
My phone dropped; and to my surprise,
I felt her hands on my thighs.
Before any words were said,
She turned the key. Lights were dead.
Gathered knees. Lowered head.
By 1:43, she was full and fed.
What's wrong with me?
That's what I should've said.
I should have stopped; but instead,
Here I am at the foot of her bed.


The doors are locked.
The entire house is sealed off.
I'm erect. Solid as a rock.
She asks me to help her peel off.
Clothes cascade to the floor;
Revealing dark chocolate skin.
Perspiration seeps through my pores
And the air is getting thin.
She gyrates a little more
As she invites me to dig in.
I hesitate; but I don't negate.
Her leg is up; so I give in.
At first, I feel a little nauseous.
Don't get me wrong. She's worth a savor.
I'm just apprehensive and cautious
As if I'm doing intensive labor;
But as time gets more extensive,
There is an influx in behavior.
Another lick, a few more sucks
And I willingly grant her favor.


Yeah I know. I'm in some muck.
I chose to wade deep in the mire.
This will surely deplete my luck;
But I just can't fight desire.
It's obvious that I know better;
But I let her catch my ire.
I did my part to make her wetter.
Now I can't put out her fire.


She climbs on top of me,
Makes me her property
And I give her the business.
She wants it all. She's my monopoly.
Deep down, it truly bothers me.
I should've initially turned back;
But she's laying on her back.
I should resist; but I attack.
She says I'm what she missed;
Says I'm what the others lacked.
She leans in for a deep kiss;
But still won't cut me any slack.
She becomes vulgar and blunt;
Wants to see what I've got packed,
Bends over and faces the front
And gently arches her back.


Why am I still here?
Was it not crystal clear
That I am simply destroying
A true love that I hold dear?
She's calling for me:
"You're not done. Come here."
It shakes and bounces enticingly;
So I relinquish those fears.
I mount her and she takes me in.
She looks back with an evil grin
As if to signify her win
By helping me take part in this sin.
I look back at her
And my stomach is in lumps;
But I disregard and violently pump
Until knees buckle and I dump.


The air gets colder.
She's knocked out; still slumped over.
I feel drunk although I'm sober.
I guess this means I'm sleeping over.
I throw my shirt over my shoulders.
When she awakes, I'm going home.
She turns sideways and moves over.
I start searching for my phone.
I know it can't be far.
Damn! I left it in the car!
The battery is dead;
So I look for it under the stars.


I still haven't found it yet.
That's when it flashes my missed texts:
"Baby? Are you home yet?"
"Did you forget?"
"Still bringing me to work?"
"Is your alarm set?"
"Are you ok? Are you hurt?"
"Please call back. I'm trying not to fret."


I sit there with my head down.
I look at her photo and start to frown.
I was dumb enough to let one night
Tear everything that we built down.
I turned away from the better me
And sought refuge from the light
So I could delight in deviant decadence:
A cold dish of infidelity and plight. 


So much for a good night...


Written by: Devin Joseph Metz

"The Pursuit (The Perfect Fruit)"

"The Pursuit (The Perfect Fruit)"


Most of the girls that approach me
I barely know from Adam 
And I've the kind of expectations
That I'm afraid they can't fathom.
They say that they're unique;
Favoring a beauty greater than Eve;
But the fruit that their tree bares
Leaves little reason to believe.


I remember this watermelon.
Told me she tasted like heaven;
But she was nothing like manna.
She was barely even bread unleavened.
Initial sweetness hid bitter kisses.
She swore that she was seedless;
But after years of spitting,
I decided I didn't need this.


I thought love was out of reach.
That's when I met this southern peach.
She had a soft exterior
And a sticky sweet tone in her speech.
She was sure that she made it
Because peaches are my favorite.
She could've kept my mind close;
But her ambition was to enslave it.
Her ego bruises easy;
So I just ate around the pit
Until she tried to make me queasy.
That's when the gorging had to quit.


That experience took it's toll;
But I finally broke those shackles.
Then one day; during a stroll,
I ran into this pineapple.
She wore her mask well.
Always had so much to tell.
She tried her best to hide
That she was just a hard shell.
Her stories were frequent. 
Dare I say chronic.
She lied so much that she believed it;
But I knew she was far from exotic.
She didn't offer much substance.
Her deeper innards were almost bare.
It was hell peeling that outer shell
Only to find little fruit there.
She assumed that I was vain.
She was sure I was unaware
that what clings to her veins
Was more than she could share.


Maybe this just wasn't my lane.
The weight of love was far too heavy;
So I hopped on a plane
Only to converse with a cherry.
Everything seemed legit.
She might be my perfect fit.
She even disclosed the fact
That she came with a pit.
She complimented my charm.
I acknowledged her wit.
We did the kind of things
That fruit fanciers could never forget.
She said I'm her " Favorite Him."
I catered to her deviant whim.
Her moans resonated like a hymn
Every time my tongue tied her stem.
I was sure I had it made;
But the thrill was sure to fade.
She flung pits at my eyes
And her stems cut me like blades.
Then came the day her juice dripped
Only to land on another's lips.
I caught them in mid sip;
But she shrugged and continued to dip.
So relentless in her cheating.
She gave my heart a beating.
Part of me wanted to keep eating;
But I was better off just leaving.


After that, love was just too scary.
I found myself being wary
Of any and every potential mate;
No matter how much they varied.


Strawberries were so stuck up.
Blueberries always wanted pity.
Blackberries were boisterous and dominant.
Raspberries thought they ran the city.


Lemons made me pucker up.
Limes were far too sour.
Cantaloupes weren't really lively
And pomegranates want all the power.


I remember years ago
When I would hang with my crew.
They would chase the plums around;
But I liked this honeydew.
She didn't care for grape bunches.
She didn't need mass appeal.
She didn't come off like the oranges.
She wasn't that easy to peel.
She was uniformed and neat.
She was just so real;
But I was too shy to greet.
I may never know how she feels.


I guess this isn't for me.
It may be too much to grapple.
At least that's how it used to be....
..................Before I met my apple.


That's my baby.
My one true lady.
When the wiles of life encased me,
She was more than ready to save me.


So ripe.
So crisp.
Every bite felt right.
I still taste her when I lick my lips.


Other guys chase those mangoes
And pull at the papayas
But my girl is juicy enough
To handle my detailed desire.


She displays impeccable skill
When removing my banana peel.
She let's me bore through her core.
Our bond is serene and surreal.


She's delicate when warm
And so subtle when chilled.
She never causes me harm.
She always keeps my heart filled.


She's everything and more than.
She's all I would ever need.
We've recently started our garden.
She helped me sow my seeds.


She lifts our branches higher
While I firmly forge our roots.
Our children will come to admire
Our nurturing bond of love and truth.


Love has finally shown some mercy.
It was truly a worthy pursuit.
My heart no longer wanders thirsty.
I have found the perfect fruit. ♥


Written by: Devin Joseph Metz