Tuesday, December 28, 2010


When I examine the thoughts in my head

Only one though rings constant and true

An idea that throbs and fuels me

That wakes and comforts me, soothes me

That thought is you

And when I dig for the reasons I feel this way, here is what I find

Being with you is the only reason I look forward to waking up every morning

Taking care of you has been my drive to work harder and succeed

Listening to your ills and troubles fuels my resolve to be there for you always

Every morning I strive to be a better man to somehow try and live up the an expectation worthy of you

The only joy I have in sharing is the ecstasy in your voice when you receive something you really want

Spent a life time making other people happy only to realize the only one that makes me happy is you

It still amazes me how I can always smell and taste the sweat running down your skin

Or how hearing your voice drowns me in so much emotion I never know how best to react

I still spend hours on end staring at your pictures, wishing I was staring at you

Knowing no place on earth could ever feel more like home than your arms

What I wouldn't sacrifice to be kissing you right now still remains a mystery to me

If only you could catch a glimpse of the way I see you or how much you mean to me

Being denied time with you, is a slow poison too hard to swallow

And it shames me when others are there to be with you when those moments I cannot share

It scares me because deep inside I know I might not end up with you

Or be the one who calms the turbulent sea that lies within you

And even though this cross I bear, I hold on dearly to those moments shared.

It hurts me that you feel you add nothing to my life, you are my life... my world

There's not a day that goes by that the thought of you doesn't motivate me or build me up

I would never admit this but I could never live in a world devoid of you

My only solace is knowing no one will ever read this, you never see this

I could never live with the rejection, if you knew what you do to me

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Trunk of a Car

Lying in the trunk of this car, thinking of all the things I’ve done

The moments that lead to this and the decisions they ushered from

The forces in my life have been my strength and my destruction

The forces that drive me through need no real introduction

She was seventeen, young and lean

Looking like a beauty queen

Smart and witty, strong and gritty

Adventurous with just the right amount of needy

The first time I saw her, it was like angels sung to me

And all I could see and hear was made up of symphony

She would mean the world to me

And that’s all she has grown to be

And I knew then what I know now

I would do anything to bring her every desire to fruition some how

And I tried but there’s just so much a bum like me can do

And no matter what I did, it felt like there was no pleasing you

And then it hit me, one big score, one simple gig to even the plane

But all of my associates told me I was insane

But then I found a crew willing to do what a man needs to do

To provide for his family, the way a man ought to

We hit the casino at a quarter to five

It didn’t go down as expected but we didn’t take any lives

But there was blood split and the wrong people got hurt

Back then they just seemed like causalities as long as we didn’t get caught

Or so we thought but that quickly changed as they days went past

And we realised we had to get out of town fast

No plan is perfect and word went around

Our names were mentioned and so people had to go to the ground

Bobby got hit; Mike was wacked not too long after, Joey didn’t get as far

And me, me, I’m in the trunk of this car

But it’s all gone as I expected, according to the plan in my head

They’ll never find all the money, she’d find what’s left and forge ahead

Through torture and pain, I’d tell all they need to know

They’d get most of the money and the guys that pulled the show

She’ll disappear somewhere with the bag in the sofa

Start a new life there, with the arrangements I made, she’d never have to suffer

I had it all planned out with the thoughts in my head

But then it’s funny the things you think of when you dead

They say you get a clear glimpse of things

And here I did finally putting together all of the strings

It was never the money nor the material things she wanted

Not the car, gadgets or jewellery that to her was flaunted

It was me home, at hours when she was awake

Doing stuff with me in activities that couples partake

It was just my time and love that she enjoyed the best

The things I denied her while putting material things first

She returned the money; she wanted none of that blood on her hands

If I had only been a man and gotten with that 9 to 5 plan

Now she’s alone crying in shadows feeling betrayed

I can’t even hold her hand and apologise, I strayed

My best intentions to give everything she could dream

If only I had asked her, I woulda learnt I was that dream

Wednesday, October 6, 2010


If they ever invent the time machine, it better be portable device

And if it’s in mass quantity and cheap enough, everyone will want one

But if they invented the time machine

I could go back in time to the point it all went bad

And she left me and ended it

I could fix everything, resolve the issues, be the man I shoulda been

But then what if she also went back in time to fix another relationship

One that happened before she met me

Or some lovely lady I know decided it best to go back as well

To ensure that as I was getting dumped, that she be there to pick up the pieces

Or my friends who thought she was no good for me

Went back as well to ensure we never met

What a timeless mess that would be

Now remember that you travelling back in time and not transversing space

So the location you are now is where you’ll end up then

Now wouldn’t it be an expensive trip if you still have to travel to where you need to be

So if you travel back in time and where you are now,

At the time you arrive just might have been a busy highway

Or per chance you transport into a locked bedroom

Of two 80 year old ladies jerking off to a dominatrix porno

What if you took a recent discovery of your time

And went back to the past to claim that it was yours

But when you get then, the technological knowhow or understanding

Was not available to develop it, wouldn’t that be a waste of time

Or if you by the time you got back to the past

Some other zealot fellow had gone further

And had already laid claimed to the same discovery

What if I went back into the past to rob a bank I used to work at?

Arrived at the time only to find another set of employees

Who have traveled back trying to pull the same stunt as me?

We get into a shootout and I end up dead

A DNA test is done on me to identify the criminal

And my obituary announced on TV in a bank job gone wrong

While the me, in the past is vacationing somewhere.

What if I went back to the past and got the ‘me’ in the past killed

That would mean that me in the future would cease to exist

But then if I died in the past, then the me in the future never existed

So how the heck did I travel back to the past and get myself dead?

Now isn’t time travel just so confusing....

Keep traveling into the future, leave the past behind...

Monday, October 4, 2010

Thorns and Roses

For every time we break up, I promise myself this time I’ll let go

But there like clockwork I’m sending you another mail, saying we need to talk

I try my best to stay away, but the days are more miserable without you than they are alone

I hate the way you make me feel small, when you snap at me on your moody days

They make me withdraw into a depressed shell, I find hard to get out off

But in myself destructive ways, even those days beat seconds without you

I know, you know how much I love you and how into you I am

Your belief in me, made me the man I am

Your sticking by me made my days worth the while

Being able to share the tiniest things with you, for the longest while, was the only reason i am here

I hate how your crappy moody days can bring me so down

And I hate how helpless they make me feel

If I can find a way to bring you out of them

Maybe then I can find a point to life

What’s life without pain, joy without the possibility of sorrow?

I’m resigned to the fact that it’s the people we love the most

That have the greatest capability to hurt us

And as my feelings for you could never change

I guess I’ll endure this balance between pleasure and pain

Till I can a way to murder all your crappy days.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Marriage Tales

At nineteen my father told me the story that ensured that I never looked at my mum the same way. It happened way before I was born and is basically the reason my father always did what my mum asked.

My father had just inherited a summer house from his dead grandpa and my mum decided that was what she wanted as her birthday present, so she ‘nicely’ asked my father to sign over the deed to her. Naturally my father didn’t take her seriously and refused vehemently. Well that night my father gets home to a world class dinner, all his favorites carefully prepared and set down just for him. Thinking my mum was just trying to buy her way to the deed, my father wined and dined on what he still says was one of the best meals of his life.

After dinner she takes him up to the bedroom, undresses him and gives him a good bath. She then proceeds to give him a soothing massage during which she handcuffs his hands and legs to the bed. At this point he tells me he was really feeling bad about having to still refuse her request after all this effort. The house had been in his family for years, a cherished childhood retreat and here my mum wanted the house so she could give it away to her bum brother who even now still can’t keep down a job nor his liquor.

Then it happened, right after she had his legs cuffed, she stopped dead in her tracks, looked him dead in the eyes and asked him one last time if he would give her house, feeling as bad as a man could possibly feel, my father denied her for the last time. She rolled off him, sat at the end of the bed and lit a cigarette; my father had never seen my mum smoke before then. He smiled, knowing it was going to be a standoff, thinking he sleep it off, but then the southern uprising began. It was then my mother slyly displayed the empty bottle of aphrodisiacs. The color drained from his face as he watched her walk over to the television set to begin playing a porno.

Well my dad fought the good fight but alas he gave in after an hour or two or so he says. That’s how my mum got the deed of the house and that’s why my father hardly, if ever, said no to my mother as long as she lived.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Always Trust The Gene Genie

Dude, it was like something out of a ‘Back to the future’ movie, least for me it was. I mean man, it’s not every day you have a guy pop out of nowhere trying to convince you that he’s from the future and that you need to go with him. He wasn’t dressed like he was from the future, not like I know what they’d be wearing in some odd forty years from now. He played the part convincingly though; he knew everything about me, so it was hard to just dismiss this as some whack job off the street playing a prank. Not like I had any friends who’d go through these lengths to try play a prank on me.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder dude says the oddest thing, no, no, no not ‘come with me if you want to live’, I mean if he’d said that it wouldn’t have struck me as odd, it’d have just made me laugh my arse off. But honestly I half expected him to say that, but no, he went all Uncle Sam on me with the future needs you route. I mean this felt straight out of a Tales of the Unknown comic book. But before I could protestor even consider screaming for help, cause dude I was really feeling right unsave about then, whoosh, bright lights, strange body sensations and then suddenly I’m in strange surroundings.

Well at first I’m thinking I’d just been hit on the head to hard and I was cold stone out in some delusional dream. Heck I still do, but everything feels so real and if I haven’t woken up already then I must be in some funky coma. Anyhow when I could finally get my head right and take a look around me, not much had changed, least not the trees and major surroundings. I was beginning to feel all punked out but something in my head kept telling me ‘Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore’. And then it hit me, it was the little things, posters on the walls, weapons the cops were carrying, the model cars people were driving, the slangs being used, I definitely wasn’t, least mentally, in my time any more.

As I watched the smile creep unto his face, wanting so desperately to wipe it off with a punch, it occurred to me there was one simple way to confirm all this, where and when I was. I’d seen enough movies to know this; I asked him for some change, examined it and then went off to buy a paper. Well he hadn’t been taking me for a ride, other than to the future that is, some odd thirty or forty years into it. My head started spinning and I knew I had to sit down so we find a dinner and while I clear my head with a milkshake, he fills me on why the heck I’m here.
Apparently he was serious, he did want me to save the future, the world had gone south and not the good south. The story is that some years back a vibrant charmer gets into power with lovely promises of grandeur, why do people believe such crap. Well at first he delivers and ends up uniting the all the countries together, eliminating borders and nuclear war and makes everything peachy as he promised. But then, not too long ago something sets him off and dude snaps and just goes crazy making things unbearable. He starts murdering people, causing famine in areas, locking people up, using them for experiments all the things that make for a brutal oppressive dictator. He starts destroying everything that he had built and so the people rebelled, but they couldn’t touch him see, so the other powers that be decided to take him out.

Now this is where I come in because as it is, the me from my time is the only one that can do it as I’m the only one that can gain access to him in his fortress. Everyone else who could do it from their time and who would oppose him had been eliminated by you know who. That’s why they come to the past to get me. I can’t tell you the thoughts that ran through my head other than shit this is freaking confusing, giving me a headache and how it sucks that I was dead in the future probably killed by this jerk. Now as I was getting all righteously pissed that I was probably killed in my prime even , they refuse to give me details so as not to influence the future, blah blah, it hit me, mundane little old me who did nothing with my time but watch movies and play video games was finally motivated to actually do something worthwhile, stand up for something, I got killed for it, but hey.

So yeah I agree to do this, just to avenge me of the future, my death shall not be in vain. And well for once in my life someone needs me, something needs me. Enough to go the mile to get me, plus hey I get to save the future, goes great on your resume. Now if only there was the girl I’d be getting at the end of this as well. I’d talk to him about that when I got back

Now he tells me my access key to the fortress is my DNA, and I’m, thinking typical, I’m gonna bleed whether I live through this or not. So I break into the fortress, gun in hand and somehow, I’d never understand get to where the dictator is. I’m already dreaming of all the newspaper headlines the next day with my name and if ‘hey baby I saved the future’ is a good pick up line at the bars. Anyways I open the door and right there in front of me is an older version of me.
That’s when it hits me, that’s the reason I had the right DNA, I’d probably rigged the office to my DNA only. They brought me from the past to kill me in the future, talk about irony. Now all the inner versions of me start running wild with personal thoughts like

The religious catholic me: would this be technically suicide?

The moral me: do I hate the things I’ve done in the future so much to kill me for it?

The practical me: couldn’t I just reason with myself to find out why I did this and talk me out of this destructive path

The vain me: damn, I still look good in the future

The egotistic me: hell yeah! I’m the guy in power, top dog! How cool is that? And my teachers said I’d amount to nothing.

The conscience me: what is the future me thinking right now, what is he feeling? Does he think I am betraying me?

The logical me: could the two me’s just strike a deal?

While the educated me tried his best to reconcile the best solution to this unusual problem. Now what would you do in my shoes?

Well least to say, the greedy me won! So I shot future me and seized power. Then I had the guy who brought me to the future eliminated and took the time device, I mean, bring me to the future to kill myself. Now I transverse between being a bummer, move / gamer borderline junkie of the past and being the cool righteous get anything I want and still treat the people right, ruler of the world in the future. So much for time paradox!

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Me through your eyes

What do you see when you look at me?
The man I am or the man you want me to be
The man I was or the man I could be
The man I want to be or the man I should be
The man you need me to be or the man He made me to be
A man flawed and uncertain or the man you admire
A man you could grow to love or the man you do love
A man whose needs overwhelm you or a man who lifts and inspires you
A man you could make do with or a man you wouldn’t want to be without
A father or a sperm donor
A giver, supplimenting your needs, or a taker, draining life and love out of you
A friend that could grow to be a lover
A lover that could grow to be a friend
A brother to call on and lean on
Or a name you hold in detest and shame
Do you see me for my flaws, who I am or who I could grow to be?
As a man striving to constantly better himself, to improve
Or a face wallowing in what once was
Be my mirror; let me see myself through your eyes
Tell me what you see when you look at me

Thursday, May 20, 2010

My Itch

She didn’t have to say the words
It was written in her eyes
All he had to do was read the signs
Only then he realized
All the hurt that had transpired
She had kept it all within
Bore inside her personal sins
She wore these just like a cross
As the measure of the self she saw
Watching all her flaws as a mirror
Loosing herself to find redemption
Till all her set backs became damnation
And yet this fool loved her
Ever willing for het to suffer
While she solely believed she was incapable of this emotion
Her vanity her only devotion
Blind to see that till she truly loved herself
She could never truly share that part of herself
In her head he never met her requirements
So irrelevant were his accomplishments
And as shadows fall and graves get dug
His dying wish the angels sing
That she learn to forgive her past and pause
To appreciate herself for whom she was
To him she always would be incomplete
Till she learnt to love her own feet

Monday, May 17, 2010

Arike mi

Life in itself is all to fleeting
The moments that pass, they run so fast
But if these worthless days are shared
By a body worthy to be cared
The microseconds seem to last
So that every second we waste
Makes the minutes we taste
Appear so bland and chaste
And there you stand out of six billion and more
The solitary wind that directs my sails
Through hail and storm leading me to your shore
Life is a journey, I make my way through
A passing guest at many hearts
But the reason I kept moving
Even when the roads where hard and rough
The thought of coming home to you, gets me through.
You are the best that I can be
The highest accolade I could receive
The more I learn the better I see
You are the building blocks that make up me
You are the answer to the questions
I haven’t even thought of
The reason I wake and why I dream
You are the place I call home
Where my heart returns at the end of the day
The only reason I walk this road of life
Is to return to you
The times that we’re far apart
Only make sense because of the times we have shared
And I only make it through the days
Because I dream of coming back to you
Even if we don’t end up together
And another place your heart ends
I’ll still come home to you
Every day I spend
You’re my final destination
And I always run home to you

Stolen Works

My inspiration wanes
I’m lost in the pain
I can hardly find a reason to breathe today
Can’t afford the alcohol to drown my sorrows
Here, I have lost the will to believe tomorrow
I watch the people pass by, in their own little worlds
I know they don’t see me, if they did they’d hurl
My friends are worst than enemies, they judge and stare
You would too when you read this, but I am beyond care
What you can’t see is the darkness that lies within
And the places it takes me with its numerous sins
This pen is a gun and the ink is a bullet
These words are my blood, gushing out from my gullet
By the time this is done
My life would be gone
Your shaking heads will tilt in pity
But your hearts won’t feel me
And before the sun dawns I’ll be forgotten
Just a faded thought, lost and rotten

Monday, April 26, 2010

My Best Enemy

Quite recently, I’ve come to the thinking that the that people we come across play an important role at every point in our lives. It’s not an easy concept to explain, but I come to believe that we meet people for a reason, that at the point in time that we meet them, they play a role in whom we are then and who we could become later on. I know loads of people would disagree with this, but consider that even while watching a movie, an extra just walking by could have a top, shirt or pair of shoes that we like so much that we rush out and get ourselves something of the sort thereby influencing our fashion.

Now the reason I mention this is cause of one my greatest inspirations, my best enemy. I've despised this guy for so long I can't remember a time I didn’t want to just kick his arse just for the sake of it. I've never really liked anything about this guy and when I found out that he wrote too, it only pushed me to write better. We've been competitors ever since, striving to better each other. I've stolen his work several times and I know he's wanted to kill me so many times for this it makes me smile. But then I read his works and it inspires me to better myself and I come to realize that I've grown as a writer not just cause of the encouragement of friends and admirers but the desire to top this arse. He's been a source of strength, inspiration, a thorn in my side and while I'll never admit this to him, I am the writer I am today because of him.

Thinking about this I've come to appreciate everyone I've ever come in contact with, the ex's that broke my heart, the friends that took advantage of me, the lost, people that have hurt me, despised me or tired to bring me down, because they have pushed me to excel and defined me in ways I can only come to appreciate now. They've inspired some of my best works. They've kept me in ideas and reasons to succeed and for this I thank them.

Now I'm not saying hey, go find everyone that ever hurt you and give them a pat on the back for it, but the realization that they have not taken but added to who you are is truly empowering. Everyone has a lesson to teach you, if you are willing to learn. Everyone has a role to play in your life, no matter how minute and how inconsequential it may seem at the time. Even the bully, if you are willing to see it can inspire you, take Beethoven for example, if his father had not bullied him to music, the world would be less some beautiful music. History has spoken of many great artists that have been tormented by oppressive figures who they have found a way to overcome and have somehow influenced who they became.

Now while I do not condone the acts of the hurtful, I appreciate their place in my life. I've learnt to be wiser, more loving, cautious and stronger in part due to these fine detractors of mine. In short, I would not be the man I am now, if not for them. So it dawns me that everyone I have ever met has added to who I am, everyone! They have molded me in some fashion sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, but they have inspired something in me, added to me. And so I realize that I have a lot to be thankful for, from this influence of others and the influence I, myself have on them. That as I am hurt, I will, in my fashion, hurt others, maybe inspiring and strengthening them.

So to my best enemy, the man who has constantly pushed me, I say a big thank you for being you and for always being there. The arse and bastard that you are, an enemy worthy of envy, despised, admired and in some sick fashion, loved.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Guilty Pleasures

I was once a tasteful pleasure
A desire there, when needed
A friend on call
An ear for troubles undergone
A shoulder that was constantly sought.
A fall from grace
And suddenly things change
The devils horns I have been adorned
I am tired of being the one who brings out the worst in you
Who makes you feel bad for doing the things you do
I’m tired of making you feel guilty for coming to me when in need
Even though you know I strive to be there for you
I’m tired of being the one who has to understand you are a child
And still have a lot of growing up to do
I’m tired of being seen as overbearing
Just because you feel I care too much
I’m tired of being the one who has to lift you up and see you as a saint
I’m tired of having to bear all your unfounded insecurities
And your skewed view of crime and punishment
I’m tired of having to understand your selfish ways and needs
I’m tired of having to show you the good in you, when you refuse to see
I’m tired of having to be the saint and adult, the sin and the sinner
I’m tired of how your problems overwhelm you, so that nothing else seems to matter
I’m tired of your nonchalant words, spoken in vile disrespect
While explaining what I feel and see, isn’t what is
I’m tired of hearing about your insecurities, knowing they are childish and vain
And the fact that you refuse to open your heart and mind moves me to pity
And how you complain about needing to learn how to love
When you refuse to see all the love around you, showered on you
I am tired of seeing all you could be, while you stay blind to it
I’m tired of being your crutch, while you refuse to acknowledge I might need one as well
I’m tired of your standards and how you refuse to bend
Of how you willing give the best of yourself to others
But I get the short end of the stick
I’m tired of you getting upset that I feel this way
When your actions tell the score
Of you making everything about you
While I am constantly denied
I’m tired of being your guilty pleasure
And for feeling bad that I want more.
And so this guilty pleasure promises to be sweet no more
And with vile intent, to act he part that you have written
To find the door and seal it shut
So you needn't find a way in any more
To access this guilty pleasure
That you never really needed.

Friday, March 5, 2010


When poets fall in love
Words become arrows aimed for the heart
Verses become scented roses and boxes of chocolates
Letters become diamond rings and expensive gifts
Their voices become like opium and intoxicating wine
Blinding their prey to whatever reality that may

But when they are vexed
Words become daggers aimed at the soul
Verses become skilled assassins of character
Their voices utter an army of harmful intent
With immortally damaging blows to the object of their wrath
They become as deadly as women scorned
Ten times so, if a she be the vexed composer

And yet our greatest deeds are best related in sonnets and prose
And our stories best told by he who holds our imagination
Such that our history is written not by men of action
But by he who would sing the tales of their deeds
Those who would remember us in whatever light they may
And thus mold our history to whatever machinations they may fancy
Fair warning then friends
Vex not the master of words
Least he be asked to pen your tale

We are only as great as those that would tell our stories

Friday, February 19, 2010

Inspire Me

Brand me a thief, label me your liar
Burn me with the vilest names that your heart desire
Scream songs of my faults till the heavens burn heavy and noir
Sting me with the insults left for murders and traitors
With the darkest emotions I rear inside of you
Preach door to door of every vile deed bearing my name on cue
Instilling in the heavens the craving to reject my soul
Rain down every curse your soul can bear in whole
On my character, person and on my soul
Yet I’m still standing, I’m still here
And at your darkest, when your heart is heavy and your soul is broken and no one can hear
When you’re at your lowest time of need
You find me, knowing you can always depend on me to help you breathe
That I’ll always be there, your constant tower of solace
The drug you can take to help you focus
Knowing whatever life you live and breathe
You will always suffer me
As my burning effect, good or bad, will always be there in your life

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Silly Nonesense

Here, the thoughts that go on swimming in my head
Of how I won’t get to heaven when I am dead
Stuck down here with these drugs instead
With all the hate that I’ve been fed
From all of the girls I did not wed
And there they wonder why I pop these pills
It’s just for the way they make me feel
While yet keeping me functional still
3 days and running with no sleep
Living simply on coffee and self medication
With no need for food to fuel my condition
Watching my grades get better without fault
So now I’m convinced there’s no reason to halt
As the drugs keep me focused on the things I ought
Helping me to forget the things I am not
Unlike people, who always find me short
They keep me numb and carefree
While I lose everyone that meant everything to me
Why is it geniuses always end up empty?

Ramblings: One more lie

I stand here labled a liar and a thief
Whose only profession is to spread misery and grief
As such I promise to be swift
If you'll indulge me this one more lie I need to steal
A lie to make you understand how I truly feel
A lie that would finally explain me
A lie to set you free
So forgive me this lie, the next and the one after
While you watch me lie my heart away
Some how hoping you find peace in the words I say
As I tell you I’ll be alright and there’s no need to worry
That I need you to understand that all I want is for you to be happy
And that it doesn’t matter who you’re happy with
That my love is unconditional to my last breath
It doesn’t matter if it’s not returned
That all my hopes and dreams have not been forever burnt
That this heart you’re walking on now, can never be broken
That I’m stronger than you think, even when you're the one walking
That I’ll love hearing from you
And I don't really need to know you're okay to make it through
It won’t kill me inside every moment you with him
And that you didn’t have me walking with the dead, when you told me that you loved him
That I’ll move on and let go of you
Never hoping that you’d come back running to
That I won’t wake up constantly in a cold sweat, lost and confused
Possessed by dreams filled with you
That I won’t spend days not wanting to get out of bed
Wishing every sort of illness on myself in my head
That I won’t spend time listening to outdated love songs
Imaging singing them to you all day long
Reminiscing of the times you moaned my name
I won’t remind you of what we had nor what once was cupids aim
Of how every time you asked, I came back to you
And even when I faltered my heart stayed true
I won’t be pretending when you call that all is well
I would never be caught holding back tears nor exposing you to my living hell
I am a man, I need these lies
But I share them to you to make it easy for you
So walk away my love, to the man you love
I won’t be wishing he were me

Sunday, January 31, 2010

All the things I've been

Been the husband, the friend, the lover,
yet I’ve never worn a ring
been the brother, the father and crutch
yet I never had kids
been the giver, the provider and priest
wonder why I never learnt to receive
been the hero, the villain, the godsend
yet the devil bears all his marks on me
been the artist, the channel, the saint
yet salvation lies far from reach
been your strength, your weakness, your fix
yet I never understood the power within me
been the sinner, the sin, the temptation
seems forbidden is all I was meant to be
been the devil, the victim, the curse
all the talent that lies within me
been your everything, your love, your meaning
yet in the end I always mean nothing
been the present, the past, the forgotten
yet the future I never seem to be
the beginning and the end
the final page I always see
the path of Dante I forever seek
till the wings of Icarus come to save me

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Love is a drug

These emotions are like a drug
Addictive in small doses
Obscuring the mind from what really is
And like every true addict you make excuses because of the way it makes you feel
And no matter how bad the crash is
We all come back for one more hit
One more taste for that sweet feel
With no regard for where this would lead
While the world fuels this belief
Making us feel odd and out of place for abhorring the addiction
And so this condition is thus accepted as a norm
But I am tired of the illusion
Tired of trying to fit in
And so I am in rehab
So I can learn to be free
From this drug called love
That once ensnared me

Friday, January 8, 2010

Fool that I am

My demons keep me comfort here
Consumed by the company of all my past sins
Here I dwell in the darkest regions of me
Cast there by the ones who professed to save me
They preached of love and all its comforts
But look where love has led me
To the filth of the darkness that lives within me
To the pain and emptiness left only to demons and devils
I believe in hell now, for I was cast from my ignorant heaven
For the one classic sin that all men are doomed for
I dared to love; I dared to share my heart
And in the immortal fire of the abyss this has led me to
Love is a demons trickery to ensnare the soul in gentle treachery
It is the hang mans noose leading only to pain and suffering
For you hurt the ones you love
And the ones who love you eventually kiss you with the sweet blow of a demons torment and misery
No man ever cried for hate or from the mortal blow of hates tender caress
A vile creature this cupid be, for he shoots arrows meant to inflect mortal wounds
And yet deranged creature that I am
I still love, even when I have no heart to share
With tears and ash, I still crave the warm feelings loves treachery would offer
To see the sun bask against her face
Her tender smile
To bathe unashamedly in the knowledge that she is happy and loved
Oh fool that I am