"Bright Lights And Cold Blood"

Bright Lights And Cold Blood


Fights hurt. 
No fights work. 
I prefer distance. 
That allows me to employ light works: 
A short spurt 
followed by a large burst of energy.....


One blast towards my enemy 
from his brow to his knees. 
Let the rest stand at ease. 
Watch her scream 
as his flesh creams 
from the triple beam.


Three beams. 
No scale. 
Pure hell. 
Oh well: 
Photon, Pulse, and Moon Raker. 
Concentrated Lasers
that make your situation graver.

Good favor...
For me, at least. 
I grant no peace. 
Too late for repentance. 
You will accept your penance 
in the form of an unruly death sentence.


Steam emanates from this steaming pile.
Let it bubble and fester for awhile.
Such was his destiny
for his deceitful wiles.
So this is what's left of he.
No more unnecessary trials.


Was I too harsh?
Don't expect that inquiry from me.
This was long overdue.
The pill swallowing is through.
Now everyone looks surprised:
"Who Knew? Not me."
"Those two? Why he?"
"That flew completely over me..."


People break their neck to look
and still have yet to see.
They do their best to overlook
Until I'm present to oversee.
I never asked for the assumptions.
I always knew what I would be.
I used to keep this to myself;
but now, I don't care what is thought of me.


I'm no longer an emotional martyr.
Find a new cross bearer.
I've been pushed past farther.
I now seek to invoke terror.
The darkness never looked so bright.
There's pristine vengeance in this mud:
I charred his body with bright lights
and left his remnants in cold blood.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Public Display (Afternoon Happenstance)"

Public Display (Afternoon Happenstance)


In dire need.
My need is high...
Eyeing knee highs
that encase these thighs
that have found rest and refuge
across my broad shoulders.
You see, 
she told me to hold her.
Her skin was much colder;
but contact incurs warmth
and a high degree of moisture.


Ringing with perspiration.
Teeming with anticipation.
Looking to erase all inclinations
that may impede ensuing precipitation.
Unorthodox events are coupled
with familiar situations.
Such potent emotions are doubled;
adding more to each sensation.
We never remain stationed:
She craves sporadic stimulation.
No rituals or concentration.
Just definitive domination.


Hands around hips.
Her body surveyed by my lips;
coasting across her like a ship
letting my mind take a trip
in anxious thirst for a sip.
Let it drip.
And drip 
And drip;
Ready for me to slip;
But I continue to lick
and slop
and sop up;
gulping every drop up.
Keeping her legs propped up.
My head may never pop up.
Eventually, I decide to stop.
There will be more later to mop up.


Satin sheets envelop this bed
surrouded by square pegs
and a mirror overhead
whilst I'm nestled between her legs.
I'd do right not to make her beg.
My lead performance gives her trust
that it should go without saying:
Relentless passion is a must.
Every stab.
Every thrust.
Every moan and groan
reveals how much she will condone
of this power that I've honed.
Unruly pain is her comfort zone.
Previous victors have been dethroned.
I am sovereign. I stand alone.
My love is rare.
There are no clones.
We embrace, wet and bare.
Her vacant plains are now my home.


Her glasses tip over.
Sheets fall as she flips over.
Back arched.
Bent over.
I'm lushed and parched;
but still lustfully sober.
I give hard, passionate strides
as I take her for a ride.
She gyrates what I take thrusts at
and challenges me to thrust back.
I give more.
She comes back.
I speed it up.
She wants that.
I beat it up.
She loves that.
She smiles as she looks back
and continues to push back.


I fell into this hole.
This syrup sweet vice grip.
She sees I'm losing control;
confounded by her tight lips.
Nice lips.
Open eyes.
Knees on the floor.
Working with vigor.
Churning out her surprise.
More than ready for what's in store.
She aggressively asks for more.
Quite demanding when she implores.


Doing what she touts and boasts;
making good on that which she gloats.
Her exposed tonsils allow me to float
until I land at the back of her throat.
Tears well as I start swelling.
She can sense that I'm ready;
so she gently shakes her jelly
whilst I freely fill her belly.
We've done worse in the best of ways;
and this was just the middle of the day.
All passers by had little to say
of our undraped window and public display.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"The Life And Times Of A Lush"

The Life And Times Of A Lush


"That last sip was water whipped.
Go ahead and turn the heat up."
The bartender fills my cup
as I lay back and kick my feet up.
I've been going at it strong.
I should grab a bite and eat up;
because I might not make it home
and I'll likely tear the street up.
My girlfriend just texted me:
She reminded me of the the time
when we tore the back seat up.
She's waiting for me to come home:
A glass or two of fine wine
then I'll have some guts to beat up.


I fondly remember the day
that we happened to meet.
It was two drinks for one Thursday;
so I came early to claim my seat.
She moved with grace and power;
drawing eyes when she walked in
but I was focused on happy hour;
so I just sat there; soaking up gin.
She sat next to me upon arrival
as if her intentions were to greet.
Our conversing started off slow
but definitely ended up sweet.
She said "You seem to favor gin.
How about some tequila instead?"
I asked "How do you like it?"
Her reply: "I take shots to the head."


She then started grabbing bottles
as if it would impress me.
She said "As far as vodka goes,
I like Skol and Sobieski."
I polished off my glass
and replied "Well Dear:
I'm of a higher class.
I prefer Ciroc and Belvedere.
If that's too high for you to see,
then feel free to try Smirnoff;
but I can truly guarantee:
Three cups will get your clothes off."
She labeled my brand selection cute
before she eyed a bottle of Skyy;
Then told me about how Absolut
once made her insides cry.


We found common ground instantly
and met up almost every day:
Losing ourselves in conversing
while drinking Cruzan and Parrot Bay.
It shouldn't have been that way.
Maybe the liquor fueled our desire.
Honest and real was washed away
in a bottle of Bombay Sapphire.


I flung my bottle into the fire.
I could've just thrown it away;
but I knew I'd never retire
from a trash can full of Tanqueray.
I think I've lost my way.
Better yet: I'm sure of this;
because no matter how much it hurts,
I punish myself and call it bliss.
This is just ridiculous:
I act as if I've been provoked
to choke down large amounts
of Crown Royal and Coke.
I've found no way to compensate;
for the fact that remains true
that I relentlessly salivate
at the sight of Myer's and Malibu.


It's like there's nothing better to do.
I hardly feel like a normal person
unless I'm absorbing copious amounts
of my favorite Scotch or Bourbon.
I drink hard each day at any hour;
so I'm used to being tardy
but I always feel empowered
when there's Bacardi at the party.
I hardly ever adhere to schedules
due to my addictive traits
so I've no will power or mettle
and now it feels like it's too late.


My Uncle used to say:
"Boy, that brown will put you down."
That stuck with me every day
because all I seem to do is frown.


My Best friend used to say:
"Dude, that white will get you right;"
but I wonder what justifies
having new company every night?


My Cousin used to say:
"Man, that Goose will get you loose."
Well, I'm in dire need of balance:
My life and lust won't call a truce.


That girl from last night told me:
"Two shots of gin; and I'll make you sin."
That brought me back to the end of we:
The day I'd never see my love again.


That text wasn't from my baby.
She left me a long time ago.
It was from one of many maybes
who never could find a "no."
I really can't say that I blame her.
She would always trust a try;
but my destructive, reckless behavior
always gave her reasons to cry.
So now I search for Southern Comfort
without the need for a chaser
but Evan Williams nor Captain Morgan
never really seemed to replace her.
The Sour Mash was never dashed.
Bitters never tamed the flavors
of disdainful wines and spirits
that have earnestly become my erasers.


I relinquished my ability to think
and what was a brighter past
with each and every mixed drink
coupled with the contents of my shot glass.
Life and love was mine's to claim.
Nowadays, I don't have much.
I've lost all that I could gain
for the life and times of a lush.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Last Night"

Last Night


Last night,
The rain fell in generous amounts.
I laid stationary in my bed;
but my mind was running about.
I'm usually much more resolved;
but my heart was ready to shout.
So emotionally enveloped and involved,
my desire steadily seeped out.


Last night,
I remember words so tender.
They tossed and chopped.
They mixed and churned.
My lust for her would not stop:
She's my pulse. I'm her blender.
Each statement grew more profound.
Inhibition began to lose leverage.
Hunger increased with every sound
as she listened; sipping her beverage.
Later on, I laid my intentions down
in a very detailed text message:


"Suffice it to say:
I want you
in the best form
of the the worst way.
I want to lay at your side
after taking your body for a ride;
letting fingers glide whilst I'm erect;
ready to playfully and purposely
linger inside of you.
What others hold true
I smote in insignificance.
I only wish to bore through:
Deep and Strong.
Hard and Long.
I want to offer tangible deliverance
in the form of our favorite pain;
and if the rain persists,
we'll do it again..."


The morning sky held no moisture;
but my mind was fully lubricated.
Upon getting up, I struggled with posture
as if I were heavily sedated.
I'm bothered and frustrated;'
because now, I'll never forget
how something so subconscious
could feel so real..........
.................so slippery.
..........so.................
.........................wet.


Last night...


felt so right.
Nothing was cloudy.
It was all in plain sight.


Last night...


I could feel every bite.
I closed my eyes as her thighs
straddled me with all their might.
We performed so many wrongs;
but every single act was right.


Last night...


we decided not to fight.
We broke free of our reigns
and self imposed chains;
taking every fiber and grain
that two yearning bodies
could ever hope to maintain:
Basking in the rapture
of perverse pleasure and pain.
Any and every other concern
was washed away with the rain.
All we wanted was ours to gain.


It was the perfect night...
.........but not quite;
because I woke up feeling good;
but no warm body was in sight.
Soon enough, I'll take that flight.
I hope to arrive late that night.
I plan to make sure last night
will never be our last night...


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
For Her....

"Sowers Of The Seed"

Sowers Of The Seed


Sense is common; 
but we act like it’s a rarity. 
Excuses are often shrouded;
but we like to call it clarity.
It’s almost like polarity:
Positive meets negative;
And both are vexed and stressed;
Wanting to be the other’s sedative.
Something has to give:
We can’t possibly expect to thrive
When our minds are six feet under.
We walk tall: still buried alive.


Being alive is suicide,
Days like this I don’t see why 
Jesus allowed himself to get crucified,
Cause people take life for granted, 
Chasing after money 
that they will never touch,
Life doesn’t suck. 
You just didn’t take 
the time to apply yourself,
Could have been something special 
but you continue to lie to yourself,
Afraid to pick up the book called Truth 
that is sitting on your shelf,
The music is my savior… 
Thank God for hitting me up on my pager…. 
Time to teach the youth what’s important… 
Goodbye ignorance, I’ll see you later…


No doubt that the future
Is what our efforts should favor,
But it seems like today’s youth
Lust after such bland flavors:
They choke down large portions 
Of ignorance and mediocrity
Until their innards incur contortions;
So they wash it down with hypocrisy.
Such a dreary, disdainful variety
Almost makes me consider monotony.
Only the foolish gain notoriety.
Unsavory trends have become a monopoly.
Although it has been recurrent pain
To see what has become of modern society,
There is always wisdom left to gain;
Because truth holds everlasting propriety.


While I continue to walk 
down this hallway of lies,
Where so many die 
from telling the truth,
Our words destroy this black plague 
that is dominant within 
these high school walls,
I doubt that our message will fall 
because we have the strength of our ancestors 
so we're able to stand tall 
and take this punishment 
that we don’t deserve
If I happen to pass out 
while speaking my verse… 
just remember my last words 
were far from insanity,
These words have to be shared 
with the rest of humanity,
The ink spills from my mouth 
because my body is a pen,
My body evaporates 
and floats in to the clouds,
A thunderstorm brews the message 
that i didn’t speak…


I share those cumulus clouds.
That’s why my pupils are rarely dry.
This soul screams hard and loud
From what I’ve seen with these eyes:
I’ve watched hope float sky high.
I thought that it would find a pedestal;
But it was snatched and balled up;
Left to wallow in trash receptacles.
Please take me at my word
When I say some have had the nerve
To treat our sacred nouns and verbs
Like fast food: half cooked when served.
Still, I refuse to become unnerved.
I’ll continue to combat their negligence;
No matter how crude or absurd, 
Nothing will compromise literary prevalence.
Our undying thirst for knowledge
Through avenues of consciousness
Will nourish us as we acknowledge
Our profound thoughts as decadence.
We push past what most can’t bear;
Through the morbid and austere
Because some are still out there
That deserve to know we care.


Indeed we care the same way 
the past poets shared there nouns and verbs, 
For us not to deliver the message 
would be absurd
Lets look down history 
and look at all the faces 
that went through so much misery, 
Kicked off chairs, 
beat to death by whips and chains,
Society doesn’t understand the pain 
nor realize that those were my brothers 
stained with the blood of sheer ignorance,
Prosecuted for telling the ugly truth, 
If you want proof 
just look in the american soil 
and you will see the truth, 
The plants are us,
We are just the seed 
that grows and surpasses the weed,
Once we become complete 
we're at the top like the tallest tree,
See whats makes us special 
is that we started from the bottom 
and made our way to the top…. 
We're the tree of life 
and our message won’t ever stop..


Written By: Manja Wiles and Devin Joseph Metz

"Gravity: Circumstance Defined"

Gravity: Circumstance Defined


Gravity...


keeps weighing me down 
like an anchor 
latched at my ankles 
as if to make sure I drown. 
Pound after pound 
plows me to the ground.


Gravity...


feels like much more 
than I can bare at times; 
like a set of endless stairs 
that I've been forced to climb. 
I loathe this twisted paradigm.


Gravity...


is it's own absurd paradox: 
it keeps me "safe inside my box" 
while dangling the keys to the locks; 
leaving me with blunt rocks.


Gravity...


only succeeds at keeping me surrounded 
by staunch views of nobility; 
making sure that I am grounded 
while the free voices are resounded.


Gravity...


will gnash away at my judgement; 
letting the crumbs weigh down my depth; 
each belch holding remnants 
of what there was left.


Gravity...


won't allow me to take flight. 
It seeks to impose and indict; 
making my ambition resemble plight. 
It extinguishes my light.


Gravity...


never meant the best for me. 
It covers my eyes so I can't see 
which branches hang loose from my tree. 
Suffice it to say: I've fallen consistently.


Gravity...


won't allow peace without unneeded risk. 
It does not cease; will not desist. 
It could care less if I were pissed...
.....such a selfish bitch.....


Gravity...


You won't let me be or leave me. 
You don't have to care for me; 
so why don't you want me to be free? 
What is there left of we?


Gravity...


Do you hear me? 
Am I coming through clearly? 
I used to love you dearly; 
but your motives are no longer near me. 
I don't have to fear thee.


Gravity...


get far away from me...
further than all vision can see. 
Give me joy or give me leave. 
I want my reprieve.


Gravity................


........just leave me be....


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Color Blind"

"Color Blind"


You disgust me;
and trust me;
this never ending pattern
that I have been forced to see
will only expose over time
how dark you should be.


You rive in the pain.
You live for the disdain.
You make these provisions
and embark on missions
to foolishly drown yourself
in love's relentelessly repugnant rain.


What's wrong with you?!
Where is the stronger you?!
How much unnecessary strife
will you put yourself through
before you realize that love
only seeks to weaken and subdue?


That's not true!
That's not what love is about!
It is duly noted
that I've engaged in arduous bouts;
but no matter the route,
I'm more than willing
to stand firm through the drought
instead of swiftly backing out.


Really?!
Seriously?
Do you hear yourself?!
This is unheard of stupidity.
Do you honestly believe
determination will grant you pity?
Your point of view is severely skewed
and it has yet to harbor validity.
In fact: past endeavors have shown
how synonymous love is with infamy.


I don't believe you.
Love is a pure divinity.
It's the strongest dwelling in me.
It has it's portion of adversity
and a host of harsh complexities;
but it is not an obscenity.


Your vantage point is as pathetic
as the conviction with which you speak.
You paint the picture of a cleric;
but that facade just proves you're weak.
You let this groundless emotion
reveal every single crack and leak
and you have the nerve to wonder
why every situation ends up bleak.


You sing this melancholy song;
but have yet to prove me wrong.
I implore you: tell me why
this chastisement must be prolonged.
I dare you: show me the danger
in allowing this to go on.
Go ahead; because I know for sure
that this arguement won't last long.


Well now, arrogant much?
Do you honestly need 
an example of such?
Are you really wondering why?
I doubt that your flimsy heart 
is even close to ample enough
for me to generously display
your plight before your eyes.
but I've never been coy or shy.
As much as repetition angers me,
I'll make you fully accountable
for every tear that you cry.


It's right in front of you.
You don't have to search high.
You just act like you never knew;
but I hear angst in every sigh.
Hell: Your first tried to hide,
Your second manufactured lies,
and your third took ambition
in making you the bad guy;
and you gave them all a pass;
no matter how crude or crass.
Now I ask you: In each of these,
who can we call the ass?
You were so willing to confide.
There was nothing you wouldn't share
with this slew of deceptive equestrians
that rode you rugged like a mare.


That's enough! I've had my fill.


Oh I severly beg to differ.
It appears that this new thrill
has even more pain to deliver.
You see potential in her eyes
and have found yourself enthralled;
but what lies on the other side
left this unstable occurrence stalled.


She shares what most would conceal
and you swear that it's affection;
but what was recently revealed
stifles the strength of your connection.


You can't relate to how I feel;
so I've no need for your protection.


Your feelings are of no concern.
We don't share the same zeal.
I've no wish to shield your heart.
That wasn't part of the deal.
Such was never my intent.
I'm just saying what's real;
like how much your deducing
always causes you to question
the timid tone in her inflections
that leave stark hints of deception.


This is still very delicate and new.
Much understanding is still due.
I just want to support her
and try to see her point of view.


Well that's quite noble of you.
Such a foolish, kind shrew.
You've adorned her in your hue;
but she wants more than blue.
She could give her all to you;
but has motives for another.
Someone shares her heart with you:


You speak of red: her other color.


Ah yes: the maroon gentleman.
The crimson clad lad
that she wishes would give her
the love that she never had
until she found that in you;
but you'll never break through.
She will always yearn for him;
no matter what you do.


At the cost of being used,
she neglects what she should choose
even though she does peruse
that she's just playing by his rules.
She wants to cultivate and grow
what he's not willing to show.
It would be wise of me to go,


But you refuse to say no.


I know it doesn't make much sense;
but her emotions I can't govern.


Suspense is a heartless bitch
and she is sworn to be stubborn.
She gallivants and has her fun;
ignoring any damage done
but in her plight, she doesn't see
that failure is her only son.


Maybe this can't be undone.
She won't employ better sight
and break free from his grip;
even when he openly smites.


Don't be so willing to indict.
You aren't exactly void of plight.
You've made yourself her sanctuary,
so she runs to your monastery
when her want for him grows thin
but that's when he reels her in.
He gives her a little more
of that heartfelt,
profound and pure;
keeping her confused and unsure
while disregarding her want for more.


It must really suck for you
to share the top spot on her list.


I've heard enough of this!
I demand that you desist!


Blue is merely drops of rain.
Red is what runs through her veins
and her ambiguity spills freely;
leaving her with purple stains.
You delight in conversing at night
and you pray for her every day.


This is true. Try as I may,
she just will not pull away.


Have you grown weary of this ride?
Is this where you wish to reside?
Are you still willing to bide?
Are you, Mr. Bright Side?
Mr. Nice Guy?
Do you still wonder why?
Are you still willing to try?
Are you ready to say goodbye?


I just wanted to make her better.


Let the lame care for the lepers.
Love is a blemish that won't recede.
That's why I'm rid of such disease.


You can continue to believe;
but you will never gain reprieve.


I can constantly talk and preach;
but it seems pointless to beseech.


Be my guest: Kiss and suck;
but that won't improve your luck.


I try my best to nip and tuck;
but this knife is surely stuck.


This has been long overdue.
Remove that spectrum from your mind.
Let my black erase your blue.
Open eyes are now color blind.


There's nothing more that I could do.
There's no solace left to find.
This dark void has pulled me through;
So my eyes are color blind.


We are now rid of this hue;
so emotion can no longer bind.
We now bask in shrouded view.
Love has made us color blind.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz