"The Kitchen Table"

The Kitchen Table


I'm reaching for my cup
sitting high on the kitchen table.
You refused to help me up
because you knew that I were able.
You would greet me with a kiss
as you gently stroke my hair;
then you'd smile with confidence
as you point towards the chair.
It's like you were everywhere
that I ever needed you to be.
You always strive to keep me aware;
although I'm far too young to see.
When my stints of curiosity
seemed more than some could bear,
you always offered earnest generosity
and truly unconditional care.


Your trademark tempo has declined
due to issues with your back;
so I really don't mind
helping pick up some of the slack.
I've always had a knack
for consistency when handling chores;
but this higher rate of frequency
became much more than I could absorb.
I try my best not to complain;
although it hardly seems fair
to have house work accompany homework
while your own children are laying there.
They wouldn't lift a finger for much
outside of a beer bottle or blunt;
and when bills come to the forefront,
they disappear by the first of the month.


You knew that it wasn't right;
but you never really put up a fight.
You'd just allow them to stay here;
pacifying themselves with their plight.
This severely bothered me for years.
I truly couldn't stand the sight;
but my love for you kept me near
and I sat with you every night.
I never really slept much
when your health became an issue.
Some nights involved sugar attacks.
Others involved trash bags and tissue.
My days were usually spent
keeping your insulin needles handy
while nights involved keeping my brother
from eating your chocolate candy.


Time changed my point of view
and we started to grow apart;
but what always remained constant
was your spot reserved in my heart.
I'm seventeen years old
and college comes in a few months.
I've truly loved being here with you;
but this strain is entirely too much.
For weeks on end, you've tried your best
to coerce me into staying:
From guilt trips and tantrums
to words you'd never consider saying.
Tears rolled down my cheeks
as I helped my brother into the van.
I know you won't believe it right now;
but I've done all that I can.


The winds of late August
begin to violently blow.
The bridges are cluttered with cars
that gathered fast; but drive slow.
Uncle constantly kept us in the loop
while keeping you from the wind and rain;
but I know that although you were safe,
The house we loved absorbed the pain.
The roof was ripped and torn apart
by nature's malicious maelstrom.
I know that seeing this firsthand
placed your heart and mind in bedlam.
No matter how much we begged,
you consistently replied "No.";
but your wisdom eventually took over
and you knew it was time to let go.


As my Mother clutched the receiver,
tears swiftly streamed from her eyes
when finally given the news
that her brother was not found alive.
None of us had the strength
to divulge such woeful findings;
but true to form: your intuition
easily exposed what we were hiding.
Although I knew you'd find out soon,
I never knew the depth of it's impact.
You spent day after day in your room.
Your emotions were far from intact.
It angers me to see you like this,
but it wasn't hard to understand;
and with every good night kiss,
I knew that darker times were at hand.


The holidays were slow and dull.
Winter beauty has lost it's luster.
We longed for that jovial aura
that only you could muster.
The new year is days away
and our home is in fair condition;
but the doctors kept you at bay
to hopefully give your illness remission.
Cell phones stayed within reach,
Mom has become a bundle of nerves,
and fear is starting to breach
all the patience I've had reserved.
I've always admired your strengh.
You said the same resides in me;
but it's hard to shake the grief
of what will eventually be.


Sitting at the kitchen table,
I hear Mom hang up the phone
and before I can inquire,
she softly whispers: "She's gone."
The next few days at home
hardly created a comfort zone;
I'm surrounded by loved ones,
but never felt more alone.
To make things worse, of course:
little sorrow was left to render
while trying to keep the peace
between fighting family members.
Violent words flew back and forth
as my heart underwent it's contortions
at the sight of your own children
arguing over who gets their portion.


My mind is in the mortuary,
but my heart is still at bay
so I request that they pull over
and let me walk the rest of the way.
I'm not the least bit nervous.
I know exactly what I'll say,
but it's hard to serve this purpose
while wishing you were here to stay.
The love you imparted always lasted.
None other felt so true to me.
That's what drew me near your casket
as I delivered this heartfelt eulogy;
and as a room of teardrops gathered
to show how much you would be missed,
I just gently stroked you hair
before offering you one final kiss.


A few years have passed by;
but you still thrive in memory.
Although I know you rest up high,
You still feel so near to me.
Seventeen years of living together
didn't always impart serenity;
but knowing you live in me forever
grants me unparalleled tranquility.
The hard times that we've endured
displayed our worst and very best;
but the relationship that emerged
truly withstood any and every test.
You gave all that you had for me.
I know that now, I'm far from able;
but I'll climb that chair again one day
and join you at God's kitchen table.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz






Rest in Peace, Jeralyn Morris Metz. I love you more than my heart can ever express. Till we meet again, Grandmother. <3

"Vanessa"

Vanessa

There was once a very busy man who worked for a law firm. He worked long hours and his boss gave him a hard time on a regular basis. His mainstay is usually that of a very relaxed, mild-mannered person; but after months of stress and pressure from his job, he felt as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. After finally reaching his weekend off after working two weeks straight, he just wanted to go home and relax. He arrived home Friday evening and promptly fell into is favorite recliner so that he could read his newspaper and hopefully take a nap or two. His plans were sure to be averted, though; due to a small yet very significant miscalculation: His nine year old daughter: Vanessa.

Vanessa loved her father with all of her heart. She likely favored him over her mother, even; due to the fact that he is slightly more willing to offer incentives to her. Vanessa and her father used to go on their own little outings regularly before his big promotion at the law firm; but she rarely gets to see him nowadays. She was obviously elated to find him home; so she went to greet him and spend some time with him. He sat there with his head buried deep within his paper; but removed it slowly when he felt the presence of someone else in the room. As he removed the paper from his face, he saw his daughter's face light up with a smile bigger and brighter than the sun itself. 

He didn't really have to guess what his little girl wanted; thanks mostly to the huge smile on her face. She reached out to hug him and he grabbed her with his right arm to give her a kiss and a big hug; but before she could relay her request, he issued one of his own: "Vanessa, can you give me about five minutes? I want to catch up on some of my reading." Not the least bit disappointed, She nodded her head and went to her room to go play with her dolls. 

Five minutes flew by.

 Vanessa returned to the living room where her father sat still reading his newspaper. He glanced up to see her standing in her usual spot directly in front of him; as patient and excited as before. Still extremely tired, he said to her: "Honey, can I have about ten more minutes? We'll go out for ice cream afterwards, okay?" Still determined and very hopeful, she nodded her head once more and skipped back to her room. 

Ten minutes have come and gone.

 Vanessa once again made her short trek back to her father. He was starting to feel slightly more rested; but still needed more time. As she stood there lovingly staring at him, he once more asked her: "Just fifteen more minutes, baby. I'll be ready to go by then." She agreed without even an ounce of frustration and once more returned to her room to watch television. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. 

Vanessa decided to walk slowly back to the living room this time in hopes of giving her father an extra minute or two of rest before they got ready to leave. She found her way back to her familiar position right in front of him. Seeing how determined Vanessa was, he devised a plan that would hopefully occupy her some while he took a nap. 

There was a huge picture of the planet earth on one of the pages of his paper. He tore the page from the rest of his paper, and to his little girl's confusion, tore it into pieces about the size of her hands. He handed it to her with a roll of scotch tape and told her: "Vanessa: if you can finish this puzzle of the earth in good enough time, then we'll head out to the theater to see that new movie you've been waiting on." Vanessa's eyes widened like two huge gems. More excited than she has ever been, she sprinted back to her room to get started. Her father was more than sure this would guarantee at least half an hour of nap time; so he placed his newspaper over his face and nodded off.....

......two minutes have elapsed.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He once again glanced over to see his beautiful daughter with her trademark smile looking back at him; only this time, her hands were behind her back. "What's wrong, honey? Having a tough time with the puzzle?" he asked her. She shook her head no; so he asked her "Well, where is it, baby?" 

With a slight giggle, Vanessa revealed a completely repaired page with each and every part of the planet earth right where it belongs. Extremely surprised, He asked her: "Vanessa, how were you able to complete the puzzle so quickly?" She smiled and replied: "There was a picture of Jesus on the back of the paper. I put him in the middle and the rest of the pieces were easy to put back together."

Moved by how keen his daughter's discovery was, he rose up from his chair, threw away his newspaper, and took Vanessa out to see her favorite movie and then to get some ice cream. 

Every day since then, he lived a stress and worry free life; because he knew that if his daughter Vanessa could find the center of all things, then he most certainly knew who was the solution to any and every problem that was sure to befall him.

"Pink Passion Fruit"

Pink Passion Fruit


I long for the taste.
I still remember the sight.
I lust after it so much,
I can hardly sleep at night;
and it truly never fails.
Every time that I close my eyes,
I still think of that moist confection
resting within her candy-coated thighs.
I want it so much
that mere words fail to measure
how bad I crave that sweet taste
that gives me so much pleasure.
My hunger is beyond suppression;
so I'm always in heavy pursuit
with an insatiable obsession
for her pink passion fruit.


I can't go one day without her.
I'm nervous with discontent
if I can't fill my lungs
with her sugar-sweet scent.
I often reminisce
over the look on her face
when we pull closer to each other
for our dark, forbidden embrace:


We ravage each other frantically
as desire builds in our eyes
just to remove these binding wrappers
of blouses and neckties.
We share hints of plum & watermelon
with each exchange of the tongue.
The mere sight of her exposed flesh
is something no man can turn from.
The perspiration gets more frequent
with each body part felt;
so the sound gets louder
when I gently strike her apple with my belt.
She quickly falls in to bed
and gives me free reign
to partake of the various flavors
that only her body can maintain.
I give unparalleled pleasure
that she will never forget
As I indulge in the butter-rich taste
while I slowly kiss her neck.
Her movements are free-flowing
as I start to lower my head in
so I can playfully lick around
the outskirts of her honeydew melons.
Her anticipation grows
and mine's even more so
as my tongue starts to dance
around her smooth, caramel torso.
She wipes the sweat from her head
as she starts to close her eyes
whilst I nibble ever so gently 
on those same candy-coated thighs.
She feels as if she's lost control;
but she submits freely
and willingly parts her limbs
to allow me to begin feeding.
I imagine the look on her face
as she slips into convulsions
from my lips digging deep with ambition
as I lick with strong, unbridled emotion.
I just love the mixture of flavors;
from tangerine to guava,
then peach-laced mango
and pomegranite papaya.
I continue to feast with vigor
moving my tongue in various motions
until that sweet cherry finally pops
& our bed has become an ocean.


We often give into our pleasures;
sometimes more than once per night.
It would seem as if our desires
are too strong for us to fight;
so I know I'll always want more.
I may never stop my pursuit
to yeild to this undying hunger
for her pink passion fruit.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Stitches And Scotch Tape"

Stitches And Scotch Tape


I try not to move it.
It's tired of being tossed around;
because if it's juggled too long,
it eventually falls to the ground.
Then come the footsteps
of a lost relationship yet again.
that trample through the flesh
that once held so much promise within.
It isn't always their fault, though:
Sometimes, the purveyor of cirumstance
firmly flattens it with his boot
as if to block better happenstance; 
but It just keeps brushing off
the remnants of love that always escape
and pieces itself back together
with these stitches and scotch tape.


I honestly don't know
how this keeps happening; 
but it's evident that my heart
can never evade emotional trampling.
It's as pure as can be.
It doesn't deserve the pain
of being shot, stabbed, sliced,
and thrown out into the rain.
Although this is the constant,
It just absorbs the beatings
and still searches for solace
amongst the realm of mistreatings;
and when it seems too much
for my flustered heart to take,
he uses hope as a crutch
and adds more stitches and scotch tape.


I took every relationship serious;
but my heart became the punchline.
It longs for vibrant, new life;
but always gets left with a flatline
Even when I can't take it
and don't want to try anymore,
He just patches himself up
and hopes that happiness is in store.
I often painfully implore
for him to stop hurting himself; 
but he just keeps dragging hungrily
with a painful optimism that can't be helped;
and even though he's dying slowly,
he still holds on for love's sake
and gets back to bonding & sewing
with more stitches and scotch tape.


Look at him:
A misconstrued mash-up.
A haphazard hodgepodge
of different love components
that have been ravaged
and forcefully dislodged.
He is stripped of all comfort
as his flesh hangs loosely.
He can hardly sustain himself
as he continues to bleed profusely;
so to whoever he ends up with:
Please don't burn him at the stake.
I doubt he can hang on any further:
He just ran out of stitches and scotch tape.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Twisted Elegance"

Twisted Elegance


I've grown tired of this:
I'm done with all the pain;
so give me back my umbrella
and promptly walk out in the rain.
There's nothing more to gain
from trying to keep you near.
I'm finally ready to be free
from what I used to fear.
I'm finished with the tears.
I never really had to cry.
I just look up at the sky
and let the sun dry my eyes.
Buried deep beneath the lies
were all your broken promises.
That dealt me a critical blow;
but not enough to shake my confidence.
I've reclaimed all that I am
and my heart is now at rest.
I used to give a few damns;
but you'll never see the next.
If these words seem too harsh
for you to continue reading,
then feel free to turn the page;
because I am not conceding.
I'll admit: It's truly sad
that it had to be like this;
but after how you've treated me,
I can't say there's much to miss.
There's no need to reminisce.
I can't conjure up a reason
to dwell on how quickly forever
eventually became a season.
I no longer have the time
to notice the writing on the wall.
Life is entirely too short
and I prefer to stand tall.
You were fully aware.
You know the condition of my heart.
Yet without even a somber stare,
You chose to tear it apart.
I loved you with all I had.
Part of me won't let that go;
but time ministers to the heart.
Who knows if again that light can glow?
The structure we built so high
is now void of it's residents.
We seemed to be beauty defined;
but that was just twisted elegance.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Further Than Near. Closer Than Far."

Further Than Near. Closer Than Far.


I hardly ever fall asleep;
but when that time draws near,
I can't help but think about
how I wish you were here.
When my mind is at rest,
I submit freely to my dreams
and thoughts of you always erase
how harsh love sometimes seems.
When my emotions envelop me,
I just lay back and sigh
and that image of you appears
every time I close my eyes. 
I don't know where you are
or when you will appear to me;
but one thing that remains certain
is you are all I've hoped you'd be;
so I happily fall asleep
after staring at the stars
knowing that you're thinking of me:
Further than near. Closer than far.


You're nowhere near my grasp; 
but your presence is enormous.
I have yet to view your face;
but I already know you're gorgeous.
I live for the precious moments
that I spend thinking of us.
I've yet to enjoy your company;
but I still get that rush.
I fancy you when loneliness looms
and your radiance catches my ire
as warmth fills this cold room
whilst my heart overflows with desire.
You effortlessly take me higher
when others could barely meet par.
Distance can never extinguish our fire:
Further than near. Closer than far.


I just can't wait for the day
when I can finally behold your beauty
and melt away this vice of sadness
that constantly strived to subdue me.
It's never easy stepping out on faith;
because sadness usually follows my sublime;
but for you, that chance I'd take
because I know you're my last first time.
I don't need you for means of solace
or to pacify me through my pain
because life has taught me the importance
of thanking God for every drop of rain.
Don't get me wrong: We all need help
when pushing through the muck and mire;
but I want you to be my yearning
rather than something that I require.


I want our love to endure
through the toils of every season.
That will show me your heart is pure;
purging the need to doubt for any reason.
I love how your fair countenance shimmers
even though I have yet to see.
I know you're more than a fading glimmer
of what you promised you'd be.
Our time together is secure and safe.
God always holds firm to what is due
and when he's ready to reveal your face,
His loving light will lead me to you.
You already possess the best of me
as well as the healing emotional scars.
Our love will surely perpetuate destiny:
Whether further than near, or closer than far. 


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Modern Tragedy"

Modern Tragedy


The crowd begins to swell.
The audience takes notice
as the instruments find rhythm
to perform the first opus.
The bright lights slowly dim
and the characters fall into place
before the drapes separate
to reveal this detailed showcase.
This whimsical piece of fiction
is sprinkled with pain and strife;
but to those of modest opinion,
it truly relates to life.
The protagonist free falls
through stints of joy and majesty
before smacking the cold ground
of yet another modern tragedy.


Incensed with unshakeable passion,
wearing his heart on his sleeve,
our main character is firmly fastened
to what he truly hopes to receive.
No matter what befalls him,
he still finds reason to believe
that his faith will be rewarded
and love will grant him some reprieve.
He is inclined to the pattern
that his emotions choose to follow.
The only setback to this path
is that it sometimes leaves him hollow;
but he just pushes through the sorrow
and lets time blow the tears away
as he tightens his grip on tomorrow
without letting go of yesterday.


His train of thought remains intact;
but his emotions are sporatic.
One can't deny the glaring fact
that he's a true hopeless romantic.
He gives chase with little shame; 
even if he appears too frantic.
While some think all love is the same,
he treats each girl like a fanatic.
Those close to him try to admonish;
but he throws caution to the wind
and the crowd is left astonished
by how things turn out in the end.
His heart is always an open field
searching for willing hands to tend;
but when the fruit that grows is crushed,
he is left alone when trying to mend.


The crowd is immersed completely now.
Moist eyes form in unanimous fashion
as they hang onto every word
and latch tightly to any reaction.
Some wanted to lend their effort
and help pull him from this hole.
The actor's current state of being
left so many willing to console.
In spite of what he must endure,
he still stands up with a smile
because he knows God's blessings are pure
and his will surely come in awhile.
His heart's desire will arrive soon;
because true love is not a fallacy.
Besides, one is never truly doomed
to remain in their modern tragedy.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"It's Bedtime"

It's Bedtime


It's bedtime; but for me,
it's never bedtime.
It's just phone down, TV off,
as I examine thoughts in my head time.


In the middle of the night, 
I love to do myself a favor
and let my mind release
the fruits of my mental labor
and as they are dispersed,
I pick those that I truly savor
and carefully construct each verse
before the ink pen meets the paper.
Some thoughts are quite perverse.
Others force mental makeovers;
but they will always be diverse
and none of them are mediocre.
This atmosphere that engulfs me
puts me in the perfect position
to reach deep within myself
as I let out nocturnal emissions.


It's bedtime; but for me,
it's never bedtime.
It's when I climb under the sheets
and give my girl some head time.


I gently manuever past the socks
and use my teeth to remove the panties
whilst I wait for that precious moment
when I get to consume the candy.
I don't always have to stand;
but I know how to deliver
as I french kiss her flower
while her thighs begin to quiver.
I just let her shake and shiver
while my tongue twists the lock.
My inner beast takes center stage
when that craving starts to knock.
It's best to let him run rampant
and just allow him to ravage
because until he's had his fill,
there's no way to tame this savage.


It's bedtime; but for me,
it's never bedtime.
The only difference now
is that I have so much dead time.


I hate feeling confined;
so I just search for something new.
When there's nothing to headline,
It's hard to find something to do.
Maybe it's better this way.
Maybe I should just unwind
and just sit back and reflect
on anything that comes to mind.
I can ponder all the answers
to some of my biggest questions
or take time for what it's worth
and try learning some life lessons.
I can acknowledge what I've done
and what I still have yet to try
and rest easy with my growth
as I thank he who sits high.


Let this setting take it's place;
whether morbid or sublime
because nothing yeilds to your pace
quite like the musings of bedtime.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz