Friday, June 29, 2012

"Wrath Of Phoenix: Firestorm"

"Wrath Of Phoenix: Firestorm"

One step and I'm wet.
No regrets.
Just a few showers.
Feels like new power.
Exponential omnipotence
Increasing with each passing hour.
Bred of nightmares.
Bad dreams.
Cold air.
Long screams.
It's hard to stay within means
When you're soaked to your jeans
And you're afraid to flee the scene;
Feeling dirty when you're clean.
Familiarity is shame
When someone mentions their name.
The grief is hard to tame
When you take part in the games.
When you feed yourself the lies;
Holding on to what will die,
Stomach filled with tears you cry;
But you say they're butterflies.
Dry eyes are once again stained;
But I no longer feel the pain.
Rage is all that will remain.
I've found vengeance in this rain.
Beaten. Bludgeoned. Bloody. Bare.
Her drops gently rinse my hair.
Scornful soul of silent stares.
I have found someone who cares.
Streaks of light scratch through the skies.
I no longer wonder why.
I look high upon her grace.
She washes my face and eyes.
Can't recall when I last cried.
I've grown fond of flying high.
Moist air sings from silken wings.
Icy frost that used to sting.
Was once such a feeble thing.
Thought to be weak and frail.
Loosely bound in string and rings,
I found freedom in her hail.
Frightened faces flushed and pale.
Pleasant plains rough shod and ravaged.
Whether saved or bound for hell,
None are exempt from the savage:
Trials of torrents wreaking havoc.
Embers shimmer bright and warm.
Hearts will cower. Flaming showers.
Every soul exposed is harmed.
Every life is proven valid.
All will suffer through the swarm.
She will dictate who is salvaged.
What remains burns in our storm. †EVL P†F

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Introduction To E.V.L.(Every Valid Life)"

"Intro To E.V.L.(Every Valid Life)"

My tongue is EVL.
sharp daggers to your conscious,
I love less. Speaking truth,
hurting roots and making you re boot.....
Scared?
When I write, I ignite,
rewrite and comprise,
my demise lies on those sheets of paper.
Love ; my raper.
My heart is occupied.
Love with nowhere to go.
Stop sign on expression.
But when I'm on stage,
that's my heaven.
Erogenous Pain.
Erogenous Storm,
forever on the rise.
True beauty in my eyes.
Full off lies and starved in reciprocation.
My mission is to heal, NEVER conceal.
My body is my instrument.
Play me and see what happens.


Loves Medusa, Grand Ruler.


We'll bring you to your knees.
Impart with crushed hearts
Of scornful swarming bees.
Make it hard to see.
Share stories of minds shattered.
Disdain and pain scattered
Across the wall. Let it splatter
Like bits of brain matter.
Told us the shame matters;
But love was deemed insignificant.
Cower before the omnipotence
Of vessels void of innocence.
This is the cruelest climate.
Light hides as the Storm swells.
Phoenix flames untamed burn violent.
This is pure hell. E.V.L.


Crash course

Full force

Loves bullet

I light it, you pull it

In love with my hands

Take care of my demands

Every Valid Life counts

Pain is strength with continuous growing amounts

It's easy to hate you

And the lies still seep through

Triumphant in my care

No longer there

Loves rare


I never knew a heart so lonely as to where they neglected a broken one


Whose holding the gun


Of sacrifice


...This is our life


So bold.
Too cold.
I will scold
Before we grow old.
Told you tomorrow
And repeated it yesterday:
YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY.
Not today.
No longer asking why.
I just gouge your crooked eye
Until you kneel to 5'9" high.
My slaughterhouse sigh.
Made me cry.
Pupils and retinas leak.
Made me feel so weak,
So you're bound to these sheets.
Fangs replace teeth.
Flesh tastes sweet
After the punch, slap,
Bang, skeet feat of defeat.
You wish it was discreet.
Let the block see
What you mean to me.
I love you, baby.
Sweet lady in her splendor:
Mangled and dismembered.
Product of my new temper
And I'm the proud presenter.


OF E.V.L.

Written By: Erogenous Storm and Phoenix Force(Evelyn Rivera and Devin Joseph Metz)

Monday, June 25, 2012

"Number Won"

"Number Won"

I'm on one, too.
Three strikes.
Four scores.
Five stars
and six degrees
on the seventh day
of figure eights
around nine lives.
Perfect ten.

I'm all eleven wonders in one.
The ace after the even number
with the convenient clarity
of a multitude or singularity.
Blackjack barometer.

Your makeshift thermometer
Accuses me of fondling numbers.
Well when I'm six feet under,
Will I replace the ninth wonder?
I'm searching for answers
With this eight ball in my hands.
Does it say I'm twice as lucky
Or I don't stand half of a chance?

Stood still from four points
Just to view the Sabbath
With no statistical chance
To engage in bad habits.
Three sixty five days
And I only got it twice;
So on day three sixty six,
I better get my fix.

On an arithmetic mission
That requires lowered eyes,
A rock solid coefficient
And two separated thighs.
Submission to long division.
Variable extraction.
Addition by subtraction
Always simplifies the fraction.

You think that's incredibly sexy.
Likely why you call and text me.
I know you wouldn't test me;
But something tends to vex me:
This is your seventh visit
To my domicile to date.
If the clock creeps past eleven,
Would you consider that too late?

It's ten thirty nine,
your fourth glass of wine,
And the last forecast
Said the weather wont be fine.
Found about three blankets
And an extra two pillows.
Air is sixty three degrees.
You're on true chill, though.

Damn. Was I too uncouth?
Was that vermouth eighty proof?
Maybe platonic is the truth.
So much for my sweet tooth.
Thought I was deep in the game.
Thought we were one in the same.
Riled me up and left me tame.
I just lay here feeling lame.

It was twelve fifty four
Before I slept through your snores.
Now it's one twenty nine.
You reach in from behind.
Two or three blinks
And I can feel you wink.
Lust level at eleven.
Hands squeeze as they sink.

Had too much to drink?
I mean I've learned my lessons:
Know when not to think
And avoid twenty one questions.
Forget that last minute.
Make the most of each hour.
Actually, no time limit.
Just a session and a shower.

Ten fingers.
Yeah. Two hands
And a pair of lips
Surround one shaft
Like one bad mother.
Damn right.
Lost track of time
But we both won tonight.

Never knew where or when
I would get back in those guts
As you scaled numerous limbs
In hope of more than two nuts.
Enjoyed eight little deaths.
Was going for all nine lives,
But we've lost enough sweat.
It's five fifty five.

You sure you have to go?
Stay a little after six.
I've so much more in store.
Learned a handful of tricks.
You say "On day three sixty six,
I might check up on you.
But hey, we did have fun."
Damn. She was on one, too.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Friday, June 22, 2012

"Conscious Coitus"

"Conscious Coitus"

Knead what you need
on knees for seeds
like bath beads
from the membrane
that scatters splattered batter
across mainframes before laughter.

My thoughts are spilling.

Duck and cover.

Let me leak, then…

Let me leak then.
Find my peak with
no words to speak.
Barely mumbled.
Never humble.
Toss, topple and tumble
til snores follow grumbles.

Brains listen with ample ear lobes
to one who takes them
halfway around the globe
with the least of clothes.
Traveling free for me to see…

Far from a god but
across the sheets from deity;
immaculate injections
melt into skin
clawed so raw till pain
resembles the stars they saw.

Body parts pinned down;
so dead to rights
that you'll whisper
"Fuck Life."
Repeated deaths craved
and revisited like relapse
as you gasp.

Can't fall back on top.
Won't fall over bent over.
Survey follicles
and rove with mandibles
across the tangible.
Concrete meat meets sheets.

Blatant when discreet;
so if this isn't the preferred feat,
say "Stop" and I might go.
Think "Stop" and I'll say "No."
Mind and mouth fed.

Head full from what
emerges from the cranium.
Cranium on E like
happy candy and epilepsy
with side effects like
dry mouth and damp panties.

Envied by those
who befriend me
before they see
their fair ladies
fawn over daydreams
of their flagrant foul fantasy
involving "He" or me;

But I'm selective with my friendly.
I see your shimmy
and thickness desired.
Desired by the skinny.
Thigh plans and ass interpretations.

Never thirsty but
I appreciate the great lake:
Moisture assured from words
you may have read or heard
too absurd to hide
quivers and shakes.

Not ready to recall.
Still enjoying the free fall:
Waist follows.
Face first.
Doing my very best worst
to make more than the voice burst.

We shine in the center of a shrine:
Hapless artwork
bred of short skirts
and torn shirts.
Followed a flirt.
Forgot mourning.
Good Morning.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

"Hot Nights(Asylum)"

"Hot Nights(Asylum)"

This is just…………

Late night.
Dim lit.
Smart scenery selection
For acting like dimwits.
Get stupid.
Get lit.
Go dumb.
Can't quit.
Held you tightly.
Hands so numb.
Biting your lips.
Give me those crumbs.
Here we go.
Here they come.
The music is loud.
Blend in with the crowd.

This is so…………

You say I wont make it.
You think I can't take it.
You think I just fake it.
You act like I'm naked.
You like pushing buttons.
Quit talking. Move something.
Slow then fast.
We'll finish last.
Just instrumentals.
Pick up the tempo.
Pace is incremental.
Leave me a memento.
Hips to bottom lips.
They both graze the dental.
Time to dip and slip.
So much for the simple.

This is all…………

Corks explode from bottles.
You take me full throttle.
Eyes just look around.
Damn. It's going down.
The whale just sunk the boat;
So you begin to float.
You grind against my growth.
I grab you by the throat.
Clap it in my lap.
I just wanna tap.
It feels like I'm trapped.
Homie gave me daps.
Something must be wrong.
I start feeling weak.
You expose that thong.
Separated cheeks.

This right here…………

Damn.
That's your jam.
Here's your favorite spot.
Skin is wet and hot.

Jerk.
Bounce.
Wobble.

Dip.
Sip.
Swallow.

Whip.
Work.
Follow.

Twerk.
Toss.
Towel.

Profuse perspiration.
No interpretation.
Lost in the translation.
Such a warm sensation.

Dyslexia in facets.
Distorted and loud.
Ninety-six drink glasses.
Sixty-nine ways to clear the crowd.

Groups can't help but stare.
Sweat drips from your hair.
No one calls Security.
We don't even care.

I swear this is…………

Delightful dementia.
Our favorite dilemma.
Your soft lips caress me.
Twisted epilepsy.
Strobe lights shining bright
While we wrestle and fight.
Garments are displaced.
Scrambling for a taste.
Pull it out.
Put it in.
Wipe my chin.
Evil grin.
The crowd starts to cheer.
Moans fill every ear.
Time is drawing near.
The club begins to clear.

This was…………

Unheard of familiarity.
Unmatched similarity.
Murky, shrouded clarity.
Deranged means of charity.
Gave the crowd some levity
Instead of things to hide from.
Insanity is fantasy.
The floor is our asylum.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Friday, June 15, 2012

"Dripping Lips"

"Dripping Lips"

I hold quaint conversing
With the mere thought of you.
Dreams manifested under the glow
Of a moon that only shows
What I reserve under secrecy
Until none are near me.
None are present to dash you.
No dominion near to steer me.

You exude slippery smooth tones.
Your words feel slick and greasy.
Could it really be this easy?
I fear that I may become queasy.
Don't just look to please me.
Don't stroke my ego with trust.
It's days past swollen from lust.
One sharp thrust and it may bust.

Messy hands you willingly examine.
Feast on my offering after the famine.
I love to watch you gorge
With a hunger most can't imagine.
Your image will fade away.
Such is outlined in life's script.
All that's left to greet the day
Are remnants of dripping lips.

Brush strokes slam against canvas
As you peel through the pastels,
Glide gracefully past watercolors
and greet me where the ink fell.
A Scotch soaked mind
Found focus through the tears
To use what colors he could find
Just to briefly bring you here.

I discuss life with your portrait.
Your silhouette is fresh and wet.
Five glasses made you wink;
A gesture I'd never forget.
You sound so very soft;
Liquid lover sent from high
To cater to my afternoon.
I don't want the paint to dry.

You blow the sweetest kisses.
You command those batting eyes.
Your lashes highlight those eyeglasses.
I lean back and graze the skies.
I believe it was glass seven
When I came back from my trip
To see my angel return to Heaven
And leave me with dripping lips.

Walked hand in hand with your desires;
Words that strike me to this day.
I hope that we find a way
To make sure they finally stay.
You're such a tease;
Telling me you hold me dear,
Swearing that you've held back tears
And I can hardly keep you near.

Regardless of how bad it seems,
This is not a sad love scene.
Thoughts we trade are perfect. Pristine.
We just stay within our means.
I sit with you.
You lay with me.
I feel you near.
We just…………can't be.

We swap out our well wishes
To trade decadent, explicit dishes:
Desire through the wire.
Advances by text message.
I download your attachments
And get lost below your hips.
Fond memory cluttered with tidbits
Of those swollen, dripping lips.

I want a sip.
I want to be soaked.
Run down my throat.
I want to choke.
I want to drown.
Cut off my air, baby.
Don't you dare save me.
Leak with frequency, fair lady.
The aftertaste is sweet.
I don't mind a little savory.
Put this face to work, love.
I don't mind at all. Labor me.
I don't care who finds out.
It matters not who sees.
Just grab each and every braid
And bring me to my knees.
Try not to lose your grip.
Just let my fingers slip.
My tongue will dance and flip.
You just dunk and dip.
He's still out of town.
She left on a trip.
Let it come crashing down.
Drench these dripping lips.

Let my hand go.
I'm not Picasso.
I speak as night air flows.
I drink and talk slow.
Your touch is brief at best;
Likely why my mind skips
Between soft kisses from Mrs.
And your dripping lips…………

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Thursday, June 7, 2012

"Intergalactic"

"Intergalactic"

I had to turn my head
On an angle just to see right.
Could've hid my face; but instead,
I let you blind me with your light.

You're out of this world.
Where did you come from?
Your existence is minimum.
Your rarity is premium.
Time space continuum?
Could I still be dreaming?
You say I fit your curriculum.
There's no need for screening.

Maybe I am a case study.
I'd gladly be your subject;
I'm so delightfully objectified;
So why would I object?

Can't fathom how this feels.
You sure you're here for me?
This is simply unreal.
It's still too bright to see.

I've wondered what would be
Should we ever come in contact:
Would I follow willingly
or find reasons to retract?
Not like I have a choice.
My decisions hardly matter
When such a lovely voice
Imparts endearing chatter.

Elements gather when you talk.
I swore this was a fallacy;
Because I don't even hitchhike
But I'm wrapped within your galaxy.

You've that supernatural rhetoric.
I take in everything you say.
I may never walk away.
Let's make forever our first day.

Listen.
Your glowing skin
And silky sway
Makes me crave you
In the worst way.
Drown me the milky way.
Smother me.
Make me want to stay.
Make separation a hardship.
Remove it from my logic.
Replace it with soft lips
Wrapped around identifiable objects.

You're special.
Not like endangered species;
But more like extraterrestrial.
How dare I be so skeptical?
How could one be so critical?
Why latch on to cynicism
When such a lovely individual
Dashes all of my criticism?

I've showered in the sun's rays
And swam freely through the moon;
But I never dreamt that one day,
The universe would make me swoon.

Under God's concentration,
The stars were formed and aligned
To create beautiful constellations
In honor of his design;
But if his endless power
Was never clearly defined,
I'd show you to the planets.
Your grace will be the underline.

It would be presumably tragic
To say you're merely magic.
Kiss me through the static.
I'm done with temporary.
Let's make love automatic.
Feed me til I'm manic.
For you I'm a fanatic.
Blood rushes like I'm frantic.
I need you like a cure.
I want you like an addict.
You're light years past pure.
Your love is intergalactic.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Monday, May 28, 2012

"Pretty Pearl Necklace"

"Pretty Pearl Necklace"

She takes it on the chin
With a cute, playful grin;
Running fresh on her chest
As it rests on her skin.

I stand tall against the wall
And extend my long neck
For her long neck.
Cute face.
Big hips.
Nice lips.
Wet tongue.
Warm neck.

Her palms sweat
And her cheeks swell.
Eyes well with tears.
Mine from the ringing
That fills my ears
When she begins to hum.
Hers from me treating
Her voice box like a drum.

Percussion with precision.
Neighbors love to listen.
She just makes it glisten.
She doesn't ask for permission.
Nothing beats a tongue bath
From such a filthy mind.
She kept her plan in mind
While I took her from behind.

Nothing more to find.
No test of my physique.
Just a fist full of hair
And a slow grind technique.
She says it's no fun
Until her makeup runs
And when I find my target,
She'll help empty the gun.

She's nasty.
She's so damn classy.
Curls ringing wet with sweat
And her attitude is sassy.
She wants it badly.
She knows the directives.
She just adds her touch
To make sure she's effective .

Those tonsils are colossal
And when she closes her throat,
She takes it full throttle.
I see why she gloats.

She lets me take her
For
A
Ride

As I stare at her
Beautifully
Bare
Backside .

She just opens wide.
She wants me to glide.
Tongue moves side to side.
I just have to slide.

She wont close her eyes.
She won't miss a second.
Saying "I'll take this one first;
But I'll be back for seconds…"

A force to be reckoned.
She won't let me free.
She devours me in sections.
She can't wait to see…

…………………………………………
…………………………………………
…………………………………………
…………………………………………

My soul just ran away.
All that I had lobbied
Is now on bright display
Across most of her body.
All she does is smile.
She enjoyed the show.
I just lost a pile.
She just lets it flow.
She loosens her grip.
I convulse and trip.
She licks her lips.
She let's it drip.

As she cleans the tip,
She says that she's impressed.
Amid a slow rub and caress,
It goes well with her dress.
I guess that makes me presidential.
She's my mistress and first lady;
Because she's so instrumental
In being the boss's baby.

The alpha male
Delivers all the mail
To the main lady.
She wears me like chain mail:
Good gravy.
Goo.
Batter.
It doesn't matter…………

…………when I see that chin
With that cute, playful grin,
That bright, glossy chest
And that wet, glistening skin……

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Monday, May 21, 2012

"Mission Statement: Society Of Poets"

"Mission Statement: Society Of Poets"

Found love in a rhapsody.
Everything I would become
Laid its groundwork after me.
Might have been more than love.
It think it was life, actually.
It shaped how I approach things
And rearranged my faculties.
No one can take that from me.

Found love in a rhythm.
A rite of passage.
Not just a routine,
Ritual or rhyme scheme.
Every path will be different;
Even if we share the same dream.
I learned that one incurs limits
By just focusing on the theme;
So I look for substance instead
Because if status clouds your head,
You won't remember what you've said.
Your words are better off dead;
Stretched wide across ridiculous themes
Crucified by unnecessary limits
That have openly chocked your dreams.
A path of gimmicks is never different.
The same ritual and rhyme scheme
That fell victim to some routine.
Invoke your own rite of passage.
Love the rhythm in your means.

I'm good if few know me.
I'm so far from Phenom
And much closer to mystery;
So I'll be the enigma.
Can't trace my steps.
Can't recognize my signature.
I've observed how overexposure
Can be a damning expenditure.

I buffer light when I write.
It's on display all day
And it glows so bright at night.
I've yet to lose my way.
Words I've yet to write,
Things I've yet to say,
Soldier willing to fight
For those willing to pray
On behalf of the many
That some see as the few:
Those who ran out of paper
For the picture that they drew,
Grief stricken with labor
Desperately hoping for something new,
Bloodshot eyes that cry
When their thoughts cannot be processed,
I write love in lieu of them.
I'm dedicated. I might be obsessed.

You can't take this from me.
There's some levity in my faculties.
I've learned how to approach life.
I give it back actually.
This is my labor of love:
Groundwork that thrives after me.
You never know what you'll become
Until you find love in a rhapsody.

Whether salty tears are savored
Or you tend to smile and grin,
Never throw away your paper
And don't dare abuse your pen.

Protect and promote your craft.
Take pride in how you show it.
Denounce the crass for working class.
Create a Society Of Poets.

Written by: Devin Joseph Metz

Sunday, May 20, 2012

"Dirty Photos And Dream Catchers"

"Dirty Photos And Dream Catchers"

Dreamt about you last night.
Yeah I know: Fancy that, right?
Went back some years
To our umbrella under moonlight,
Our favorite spot to eat late night
And long embraces met by sunlight.

I really miss that.
I guess I did act
Like it would surely leave me.
I know it's never that easy.

Not when thoughts of you
That were once among the few
That used to vex me daily
Are now all that soothes the ailing;
The sailing of a soul
Across an ocean of mediocrity;
Gentle winds yet choppy waters.
Diving in won't purge hypocrisy;
So I try to stay afloat
Until I reluctantly land
Into the cold lap of lovers;
Bound to slip through their hands.

Perception resembles chain links:
Joined at the arms without hands,
Pulled from both ends as it stands,
Intertwined in a much larger plan,
Forever bound by intricate means.
No deliberate charge of contact;
But our heartstrings coil in unison
So far away yet still intact.

That was my daydream.
I felt your touch;
But you were so far away.
It was such a rush
To say it was just mid day.
I could taste you
Yet I never faced you.
Lines I couldn't trace through.

Stuck there in my chair
With thoughts of you straddling me.
Two hands full of your hair
As we engage in battle playfully.
I willingly lose this tussle
As I succumb to thigh muscle.
This is too much to contain;
But you know I love the pain.

It was just a familiar strain.
Nothing real for me to gain.
Just a lonely closed office
And garments riddled with stains.

It's almost too dangerous to think.
I must sever these chain links;
But I'm on the fence instead.
To this day, you remain in my head.

Sent you a text a few hours ago.
Was headed to our spot.
Wondered if you wanted to go.
Hoped that you were in town.
Not like you'd come around.
We both had our convictions,
But my addiction tracks you down.
I need serious help.

Found those explicit photos.
They lay beneath some socks.
Small memorials to concealed lust.
I kept the keys to those locks.
Said I'd engulf them in flames,
But I remember pet names.
Said I'd cut them into pieces,
But this host still harbors leeches.

Told you I have a problem.
Try as I may,
I relive our past every night
And dash my future during the day;
But I've planned my getaway.
It's foolproof. It never fails.
Nocturnal musings that come my way
Will follow what hangs from this nail.

I'll sleep good tonight.
No cottonmouth or cold sweat.
No bed sheets left sticky and wet.
No lustful mind struggling with regret…

But thoughts are still in my head.
Daily tents are pitched in my bed.
I still haven't changed the locks.
I mailed you what was under the socks…

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Saturday, May 12, 2012

"(Enter)[View]"

"(Enter)[View]"

I'm through wondering.
I'm done asking you why
It's so hard to avoid
Getting yourself into trouble.
When I get ready to leave,
That's when your efforts double.
If it looks like I just may go,
You say "No!" and hope I move slow.

That's how it used to be.
That's how I used to see;
But nothing hurts more
Than what you used to do to me.
See, I know how it feels
To lick emotional scars;
But your cuts will never heal
You're in the dirt. I'm behind bars.

Murder in the first degree.
That's what they heard from me.
This little girl mad at the world
Was on a killing spree.
See, the unholy truth, baby
Is that I'm a very angry lady.
Deep seated behind this smile
Is a child that was reviled.

Mother never really developed
To look quite like me;
So she would call me ugly
and say no one would like me.
She used to fight me.
I dodged the pots and pans.
Of course the judge would indict me
For having her cleaver in my hands.

That wasn't long ago.
There's so much more to show.
Aside from a jealous mother,
My big brother stole the show.
He never helped in my school fights.
He closed his door on most nights
When my stepfather hit the lights
Like it would hinder my sight.

My brother knew about it.
Mother did too;
So he can't take all of the blame.
He was a kid, too.
All that pounding and thrusting
From a man who was lusting
After a ten year old child.
Tell me, mom. Was it worthwhile?

Was it that vile?
Was it grotesque
For you to sit there staring
While your man gave me his best?
When you fell to your knees
With your blood spreading like disease,
He rose up and yelled out "please!"
"Just end this now! Leave all at ease!"

He was such a tease;
Even when he was older.
He lost most of his strength;
But he still has those broad shoulders.
He used to mount and pin me.
Now with the rage within me,
I straddled him, tied his wrists
And gutted him like a fish.

This is real to me.
None of it fictitious.
Nothing these days is more delicious
Than what's violent and vicious.
I used to loathe this anger.
Now it's become my best friend.
I suppose I'm no longer a stranger.
Hell, my legacy may never end.

Sent a letter to my brother's family
Offering condolences and sympathy.
Since I was there when he drowned,
I thought I would find some empathy.
I've always been alone.
Never vicarious in nature;
But if he were on this phone,
Would that suddenly change the flavor?

Does it really even matter
That a woman let the blood splatter?
Does it make you sadder?
What happened to the laughter?
No time for blues, right?
You wanted news, right?
I've paid my dues, right?
Here is your muse. Write.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Thursday, May 3, 2012

"Phoenix † Force "

"Phoenix † Force "

Nexus of the galaxy.
Harbinger of Hellfire.
Seed of triumph and tragedy.
That which is feared and desired.
Higher than perception.
At home with misconception
Void of all discretion,
Yet revered in recollection.

She has many names
And has taken countless forms.
She will not be tamed
By mere gusts and thunderstorms.
She does not thirst for fame.
She only seeks to feed the flames;
Leaving dust among all plains.
Consumed whole. Little remains.

Wicked Wyvern of wrath
Wreaking havoc in her path.
Waging war against no faction.
All who dare oppose are snatched;
Enveloped and engulfed
By a wall of searing heat.
Her presence is not discreet;
But few live to recall defeat.

She has been dispersed
To the corners of the universe.
She's been torn into gashes
And left among the ashes;
But nothing can contain
That which anchors in existence.
Those who will not refrain
Will soon regret their persistence.

Dust begins to slowly to steam
The sand starts to cream.
The heavens rip at their seams
From one sky splitting scream.
How dare you face your nightmare
And wish that it was a dream?!?!
That grimace between blank stares
Pushes your fear to new extremes.

We treat destruction like seduction:
I acknowledge her desire
To invoke violent eruptions
In a lust to feed our fire.
None are exempt from judgement:
Be it those who plant the seeds
To fulfill their own needs
Or righteous souls void of greed.

Your eyes begin to widen.
You find a place to hide in.
Her blue surface burns white.
She devours remnants of light.
The stars are chased away.
Her wings eclipse the sun.
This will be your last day.
She and I are now one.

Black Angel.
Chaos Bringer.
Child born of the void
Between what dissipates and lingers.
Engine of extinction
That transcends royal distinction.
Conduit of conviction
Claiming universal affliction.

You may attempt to resist;
But your time is overdue.
We will erase all that exists.
It will start or end with you. P†F

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Thursday, April 12, 2012

"Vantage Point: Withering Roses"

"Vantage Point: Withering Roses"

This long winded Word Smith
Uses long fingers and big hands.
Would stand on the block;
But I've got big plans.
No time to kick rocks.
I'm trying to pick the socks
That match the tie and vest
That rests upon my chest.

Would let my pants sag;
But I'm a grown man.
Can't judge your progress
If I'm not on, man.
Might not like the process;
But trust me. I understand.
Trying to do more with less
Has never been grand.

Would have taken advantage;
But I'm not that guy.
Lustful souls are deemed famished
When circumstances pass by.
Would be the other man,
But I'm not that petty.
People do what they can
When they know they aren't ready.

Would take part in your scheme,
But I'm moving already.
Never needed a team
To be balanced or steady.
That's no forceful resistance.
I've never been that stubborn.
I am not your dependent;
But I'm okay with being governed.

Would take part in gossip;
But I don't like to murmur.
We stretch the excess further.
That's why it leads to murder.
Would spend most of my time
Proving I'm better than you;
But I'll never be convinced
that there isn't more to do.

Would say "No Homo;"
But I don't tuck my balls.
I don't have to "Pause;"
I stand next to my flaws.
That bike chain and thermal
Will not make you eternal.
Expensive shoes and colored flags
Mean less than those jeans you drag.

Would rather remain solo
Than take part in the promo
And since legends last forever,
I may never say "YOLO."
Don't need to join the guild
To make me want to build.
Don't need to be objectified
In order to feel justified.

Would wax on my misfortunes;
But I welcome the adversity.
The brilliant are forever resilient.
Decide what your worth will be.
Those who talk about my limits
Will find themselves working for me.
No profit for useless critics.
They waste their time for free.

Would offer an apology;
But I must condemn atrocities.
Don't brag about life sentences.
I barely notice your apostrophes.
Why act as if being predicate
Is an unprecedented rarity?
It's not synonymous with celibate;
So stop reaching for charity.

Would withhold this clarity;
But pulled punches lend no credence.
You are living your own legacy.
Don't fall victim to impedance.

I won't excuse your age
And I can't contain your rage
And I would beg you to read this;
But you're free to turn the page.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Thursday, April 5, 2012

"Conscious Confidence"

"Conscious Confidence"

Just veer left or right.
Quit trying to work the median.
The difference between wrong and right
Makes you an asshole or comedian
And since we're being honest,
I never thought you were funny.
It's like you take the stage,
Grab the mic and make your money.
You need the negative attention.
I bet you crave the cat calls
But what follows your ascension?
What happens when the stacks fall?
I know you're not surprised.
Lord knows you've thought about it;
So before you cut your eyes,
Consider what life's like without it.

Unknown how this will end,
So for now, i will pray;
Not for that of my sins
But that you'll see things my way.
The highway is what remains
When you go against the grain.
You've quickly become the bane of my very existence.
Resistance is futile.
Please pardon the cliche;
But the limelight is mine
And it is here I will stay.
Nothing can really be
If it's not about me;
Know that this budding rivalry
Only feeds my vanity.

Vanity is insanity.
The prelude to calamity.
How could you stand to be
Part of such a profound travesty?
Gladly playing your games
As if it will bolster fame,
Ignoring what follows your name,
Not even acknowledging the shame
Of being half-assed.
Social outcast
Running your route fast
As if you doubt it will last.
You owe the crowd better.
They're beginning to get angry.
They may chant my name.
I'd advise you not to blame me.

History admires the brazen and brave.
It's the modest and the meek
That dream of living this way.
Such a slip of the mind...
What again is your name????

Never mind...

Let me offer you insight:
Why I think this way
When I look in the mirror
I see that I'm bold,
Cold and calculated
When pursuing my goals.
This wasn't always the case.
In my days as a lad,
Faced with circumstances
Understated as bad.
Hide your tears, Argentina.
I don't do sympathy.
My "bad guy" demeanor
Is what I use to succeed.
Never half assed
When performing a task.
*hits send on the computer
As he sips from flask*

Man, remove the mask!
As a matter of fact, just pause:
They damn near shake the stage.
"Let's have a warm round of applause!"
They anticipate my presence
Like a long awaited debut.
You've misplaced that true essence.
You don't make the rules. They do.
They who remember every word,
Every quote, every phrase
Every note, countless days
Spent on one who couldn't care less.
You offer women bare chest;
But you're missing that backbone.
You're a novelty at best.
Leave that attitude at home.

Sir, I am at home in this zone.
*Adjusts self on the throne*
Where the crown rests is home.
Yes,I am a rolling stone.
Your long awaited debut
Will be hard very to find.
The slot that was prime-time
Was confiscated as mine.
They root for the bad guy
But are afraid to admit.
They're seduced by the dark side.
The Force is STRONG in this kid.
Even after my last breath,
The stage will remain a mess;
Fully Wrecked.
Those who dare to follow
Can only show me respect.

Relax. Get comfy.
Tip your crown like a king.
Raise your scepter. Flash your rings.
It really doesn't mean a thing.
I'm too violent for the throne....
*Lends the crowd his microphone*
"DON'T STOP! FLOW ON!"
"TALK SHIT! GO ON!"
That crowd has no fear.
Is it getting hard to hear?
I don't suspect they'll drop tears
for one trapped in his wonder years.
No more mic check.
No more "La Di Da Di."
Just a coastal shipwreck
for anyone standing beside me.

My vengeance and righteous anger
Were formed from nights cried,
Equally violent thoughts
And actions justified;
Supplied by a past
Of shame and grief
And that of a childhood
That was far too brief.
First Row, church pew, Fall 1993.
Blue Suit, Black shoes, me age 13.
Pretty Flowers, kind words, Selections A&B.
There I sat with my father;
Hearing my mothers Eulogy.
I was full of fear,
But on my father, I could lean.
That was until he perished when I reached 19.
So it is easy to think
That I am destined to lose.
Thoughts that I combat
By making my own rules.

Damn, dude. You drop jewels
from a pool most won't swim through.
You appeal to what you feel.
I key in on what you've been through.
Lose the pro tools.
Turn the record off.
And for the record,
man, the lecture's off.
Take the center stage.
Stand tall against your misery.
Channel that inner rage.
Let it mesh with your delivery.
Make light of that dark energy.
Let it serve you well;
There's haters in the vicinity.
It's time to give 'em hell.

Old habits die hard.
Scars remain, I guess.
Repressed negative stress
Exposed my hopelessness.
I put to rest recklessness.
I now share the stage.
I shed my vanity.
The crowd is chanting your name.
We are one in the same:
The yin and the yang.
When in perfect balance,
Evil is put to shame.
Confidence and conscious
Have conquered the nonsense.
I put to rest my pen
Fully knowing we won this...

Locked up and Shot down.
Lunged forth and shut down;
but never out of luck;
so either gather round or duck.
Blue, Black and White
runs through our veins tonight.
You will likely lose your sight
as we begin to take flight.
You can't gather our reigns
and we won't erase the stains
smeared across our tortured souls.
We lose blood but gain control.
So conscious is our confidence.
We know you can't conceive it;
so just bask in the brush fire
of The Red Swan and The Blue Phoenix.

Written By: The Red Swan(Jason Abbitt) and The Blue Phoenix(Devin Joseph Metz)

Thursday, March 29, 2012

"Endless Winter"

"Endless Winter"

It's ok.
It's fine.
I don't need it.
It's not mine.

I don't want it to be.
Not for we.
Damn sure not for me.
Miss me with that.
Missed me? Called back?
When?
After the backtrack?
After you fell back?

Yeah. I felt that.
So fall back.
Go away.
Not today.
Forgot yesterday.
Could care less about tomorrow.
No tears shed.
No sorrow.

No emotion for you to borrow.
Just lots of nonchalance
Blended well with indifference.
Steep death sentence.

No knife in the back.
No dagger to the heart.
Help pick up the slack.
Let's rip it all apart.

Chop the head off.
Take what we said off.
The apologies have grown stale.
All debts have been paid off.

You owe me nothing.
We're done with the shuffling.
Breathe easy. No more suffering.
Hands down. No more bluffing.
No handcuffing.
No erupting.
Don't expect something.
I promise I'm not fronting.

Let go of the day.
Nothing more to say.
I'll push through today
And leave you to your ways.

You may resent this;
But it doesn't matter.
I'd rather share distance
That be forced to bare witness.

I feel witless.
Tired of grasping at straws.
Can't scratch with blunt claws.
I'm done with these laws.

There is no democracy.
Spare me the idiocy.
I do not require a bureaucracy
For what I wish to see.

So leave me.
Right here.
Goodbye, dear.
Don't fear.

It's ok.
It's fine.
I don't need it.
It's not mine.

I don't want it.
Not for we.
Not for me.
Don't want to be.

Don't need you to breathe.
I've okay under this tree.
Don't need the bed sheets.
Cold air doesn't bother me.
That umbrella wasn't free.
I don't mind the rain.
I'm a big boy, see?
I can clean my own stains.

I don't feel pain.
Can't relate to disdain.
Can barely fathom strain.
I truly can't complain.

No grievances to render.
No psyche to dismember.
Nothing is worn or tender.
Nothing left to remember.

Nothing to return to sender.
Gave it all back.
Early Fall leads to endless Winter.
Spring and Summer aren't coming back.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

"Infidelity Theory"

"Infidelity Theory"

There you go:
You say "You know better
than to send love letters
to rug munchers and home wreckers!"
You say you're leaving me alone.
Well, can I at least have my phone;
and before we start fighting,
can I get that in writing?

I mean, if you want to be frank,
this king sized bed isn't yours,
and that key won't unlock the door,
but your back also meets my floor.
That's not my wedding ring,
In fact, I never bought you anything
more than cheap wine or onion rings;
so how can you judge my flings?

Oh; so now I'm a hypocrite
When you send me that text
after your husband chews you out
and calls you on your shit?
You've got some wit, girl.
Finish your fit, girl.
Go on, now. Quit, Girl.......

......the fire's lit, girl........

The chair smacks the wall.
I flip over the coffee table.
Neighbors listen. My name is called.
We get violent and unstable.

That crazy, ugly, dirty,
dangerous shit that you like:
pounding you in the recliner,
drilling you on my exercise bike,
Legs up in the corner.
You climb walls like towers
whilst I serve you with power.
We finish in the shower.

Pizza Rolls in the microwave
next to the Hawaiian Punch.
You ask if I have money saved.
You want to go out for lunch.
You get that crazy look
then you say "Never mind..."
I'm ironing my work clothes.
You stroke me from behind.

I say "It's time for you to go."
You say "Why, baby? take it slow...
...you're bulging...watch it grow..."
I guess I can't say no...

I missed three text messages.
The phone rings twice.
I've lost all hesitance.
Your lips feel so nice......

You're hungry for more;
but I just heard the car door...
"Shit! Girl, stop!"
My pants fall to the floor.

What's more:

Your lipstick is on my boxers,
You left marks on my chest,
and your perfume is on my vest...

You duck behind the chair;
but she can see your fake hair.
"Baby, it's not what you think..."
She heads straight for the sink.

The necklace and wedding ring
are grinding in the shredder.
She says "I knew it was that bitch!
Now it's time to behead her!!!!"

With a meat cleaver in her hand,
she has already outlined her plan.
I try to stop her. She trips.
Her phone falls from her hips.

You escape through the back door;
The phone buzzes on the floor.
"Are you free tonight, baby?
I've something special in store."

I can't believe my eyes.
Who would've thought to wonder?
The text on my wife's phone
came from your husband's number...

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"11:36 PM: Friday Night: 47th Floor"

"11:36 PM: Friday Night: 47th Floor"


To be honest,
I don't know modesty.
Honestly, I don't think much
of beating around the bush
when thoughts of the tush,
the nappy dugout,
the leaky run-out,
the So_Damn_Tight_I_May_Never_Come_Out
are part of everything
you know I won't talk about...

...in front of her, him, they and them...
...at least...
...............
...............

......but since I have you here,
and you seem at ease,
let not this moment cease.
I want to speak my peace.



I want to be your niche.
I want to find my crease;
sloppy and smooth like grease.
I'll savor every

single

piece...



Displeased with the ease
and the whimsy.
and the flimsy.
Those who would shimmy
and offer me plenty
if I just whisper "Gimme."



I want what every guy can't grab.
I want what every "Hi" can't have.
I crave the type of touch
that another can't nab;
He that barely enchants the she
yet she is drawn closer to he
and further from me.
I want what "can't be."



Not an insurance policy.
No fits of idolatry.
Nothing short of fantasy.
Make this our reality.



Your eyes.....
they sparkle when they shine.
They have yet to leave mine.
They search for what's within:
They see past this warm skin.
Not altered by this cold wine.
They don't falter. They feel fine.


Thank you for your time.....


Nights like this are sublime.
Most of them move so fast.
Let's see just what we find.
Let's make this moment last...


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

"[Jaded](Sincerity)"


"[Jaded](Sincerity)"


Fill in the chasm with words. 
Thingss that are fathomed when heard. 
Words you can see with your eyes. 
Healing the broken inside. 
I took some time to read
And learned how to plant seeds
Because digging up dirt
Isn't always about self worth. 
Earth is too wet to be dry. 
Mud will never cover up lies. 
The sun will surely shine bright
and strip the wicked of their might. 


Wild ways, 
easy haze, 
short gazes
Towards my way...
I am not fooled 
and I won't be schooled. 
On experience, 
I recommend you fall back.
You will surely fall flat.
Idioms contained in your fingertips 
to strip the tip of my top 
whenever I seem to trot.
Brother please, 
at ease.


I assure you: No fallacy. 
No fantasy. 
No falsehood or fabrication. 
I'm full verse. No abbreviation. 
I'm offering no inebriation. 
I'm not on a mission. 
Just examine my diction
Before refusing the subscription. 
I know you think it's fiction;
But I can help you raise the bar. 
Since you're keen on prediction,
Tell me if I've found a star. 


Melancholy glances 
with no second chances in mind.
I am bored, 
grown tiresome of your sways.




My, how jaded are you?
How shaded your view?
More faded than new. 
What's her name? What'd he do?
Such a shame to pull away
From a fan of yours
Who spent most of his day
Trying to get through the doors
Just to view the spectacle;
And once I were able to see,
I so badly wanted to be
A part of your grand divinity. 
I watch in awe as you blink,
Sit in shock as you think
And pour out much more love
Than can be held in one wink. 
You pick up your pen
And tell the crowd "make a wish"
As you carve words into the sky;
Sealing them with a blown kiss. 
You're amazing!
Don't you understand?
This is a fan gazing!
I not trying to be your man. 


Can't you think of 
anything better to say? 
Superficial ways of slick talk.
Quick tongue.
Jaded I am not, 
but I must say 
my heart is a rock:
Diamond in the rough 
and streaked like glass.
I can't help but not turn away 
when you're fixated on my ass.
Your words : discerning.
You look : airy.


But why do you stand there 
as if I am saying zilch
And making a mockery 
of what I say?
When we both know
There is nothing on display.
I wouldn't buy your words 
if they were the last thing 
on earth to feed my 
spirit made of gold;
Because sweetheart, 
I am priceless and cannot be sold.




If nothing else today,
You've certainly mastered miscalculation. 
As far as the assumed "fixation;"
Hey, I'm from the south side of our nation.
I repeat that my manifest
Has nothing to do
With how you're dressed,
what you'll wear next,
Or what you are concealing
That you think I'd try revealing.
I see past the lockets. 
Don't need you to line my pockets. 
The self defense is old. 
I know you're not sold;
But why would I be as bold
To try insulting you with gold?
All that line my pockets
Are ink pens and candy wrappers. 
My notebook and a photo or two
Is all you'll find on this backpacker. 
Yes, I dress dapper
And I enjoy laughter,
And have a way with words
As I'm sure you've heard,
But if I were that ambitious,
It would be coupled with envy. 
I'd be focused on your ending
Instead of our beginning. 
I've worked on a proposition;
But if you're unwilling to listen,
Stand aside with your pride. 
I'll leave you to your own vision. 


Tis not vision, 
but reality: 
of your formality of cussing
Foul words of perception 
upon my grace
And full lips upon my face;
telling you, brother man, 
that I am not phased.


Sister girl, so much more
Is made of this world. 
Everyone doesn't have a vendetta. 
Some just want it to be better. 
Your sky is filled with cumulus;
Dark colored cynicism and contradiction. 
You keep your vision. 
I just hoped you'd join my mission. 
My words promote the everlasting:
The constant churning. 
The slow burning. 
The steady pace. Not fast things. 
My conglomerate of scribes
Know that their impact thrives
On their ability to never cease. 
You don't like to be creased;
So I sought you out as a leader. 
I am a fan of many;
But I am first a teacher. 
I've admired you for years. 
Not trying to be a preacher,
But all that rain and hail
Can be used for those who fail
To see their true potential
Because they think they are frail. 
If you augment your judgment,
You'll see that I mean no harm. 
I'm not trying to charm. 
I just respect your storm: 
Winds blowing away the fray
In such an intricate way. 
They can promote the endless. 
Clarity can be a mainstay;
But once again, I say
That I'm willing to walk away
If you detect dismay.
Carry on with your day. 


Let me tell you something brother;
that is the only name you deserve, 
besides having a mother.
Son, 
is what she had, 
but a man, 
I think not.
It is your same sex 
that continue to flock
On helpless women like me, 
free and seemingly strong
Until your kind come 
and break us til dawn;
Tell us lies and deceitful mornings,
Turn into hurtful mourning's 
and potential hoardings. 
I collected my clouds with pride
To hide this brilliant sun that shines.
Underneath all this thunder
Is a lover: 
Passionate, wild and sturdy. 
If you speak of something different, 
show me EARLY.
Don't tug me into your world! 
PUSH ME, MAN 
and make me your girl!


Mm. 
Question not
What my mother had. 
Don't concern yourself
With the wiles
Of every brother being bad. 
I've seen the kind. 
I've even watched them gather:
Times where only loud laughter
Was offered to man bashers;
But that was another time
When we used younger minds. 
The past is never present;
So if you want my essence…
Come closer. 
Don't stand back
Once I remove this backpack. 
You claim to know me
As if I owe thee. 
You say "then show me."
I'm not the goatee. 
I'm not the gold teeth. 
I'm not the alligator boots. 
I'm am not twisted truth;
Aimed at winning you over
In hopes of taking you down. 
Not trying to bend you over. 
I don't want to break you down. 
All I see are these sounds. 
I'm not playing around. 
I'm the nerd with the verbs
That makes the most of his nouns.
Don't you see? 
Won't you be?
This is a part of me. 
The nest within the tree. 
The vest that holds this tie
That constantly catches your eye
Has nothing to do with why
I want to join you in this sky;
So kill the crass reply
And spare me the criticism. 
The chance for more will pass by
Those inclined to cynicism. 
If you think I'm weak,
Take a shot. Sit back and listen
And in due time, you'll be faced
With your easiest decision.


This is no invitation to perdition. 
Join me.


In one ear and out the other, 
because I've heard all this 
from previous lovers.
I'm sorry, buddy; 
but your cheap thrill schemes 
scream beams that fiend.
and like miss Anderson, 
I've heard it all before. 


And yet and still,
You line this door sill
As if you are waiting
In spite of words so scathing.
I truly don't know
What else you wish to see. 
I am naked in your grace. 
All I have is all you see.
No facade. 
No tricks. 
No puppet strings. 
No hidden sticks.
Your words live. 
My words thrive. 
Let's preserve forever. 
Help this art stay alive. 


What you men seem 
to not realize is that 
the only art we see 
from you is pain.
Dripping with disdain,
Seeping in our veins, 
we hold our reigns,
Pulling them back, 
to hold back, 
from ugly masks like yours
But I see right through you.
Do you not hear 
what I'm saying is to YOU?


What women like you can't see
Is that the great divide
Comes from what you want to see. 
I've no reason to reside. 
Your thighs I don't wish to ride
I've no desire to penetrate
Anything more than your potential. 
Face me. Stop trying to hide. 


To try is to fail.
To hide is frail.
I'd rather continue 
"doing my own thing"
And when I'm ready 
to fall flat on my face,
I'll remember your grace.




Don't remember me. 
Stave your memory. 
When you misplace your grace,
Do not think of he. 
He did what he could. 
You did what you would;
So with or without you,
Life will continue like it should.


Touche, my friend.


That is the only category I seek.
For the mere displays of wisdom peeks.


I wish you well
Although I wish for more. 
I pray that your prowess
Leads to all that is in store. 
I still want to implore;
But I respect your decision. 
Maybe the day will come
Hopefully within better conditions. 
Such a strong soul. 
Such a violent nature. 
Yet you maintain control. 
You, ma'am are truly favored. 


Written By: [Evelyn Rivera] and (Devin Joseph Metz)