Sleepy Springtime (Poem)

Wake and rise before the dawn.
Wake to find your mind is gone.
Off to where, I ought not say.
A lifeless stare. You walk away.

Descend the stairs, and out the door.
Up the street, you pass the store.
Take a right for no real reason.
Spring decor, Oh blessed season.

Two black cats that patter by.
The latter having just one eye.
It stops to look, and lifts its gaze.
With one eye shut, it meows your way.
Locking eyes,you pass and wave.

You wander to the edge of town.
Till not a house in sight is found.
Pleased at no one else around.
Finding shade beneath an oak
You float toward the grassy ground

Nowhere that you have to be,
You burn the day beneath the tree.
The smell of spring so sweetly lies.
You daydream until dusk arrives.

With weary eyes you traipse on home.
How nice it feels to be alone.

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A mess (poem)

The shining path that falls apart.
The sting o’ hundred poison darts.
Feeling like we ought to laugh.
As we fire off the staff.
Left to write in broken thoughts
Haunted by the lies we bought.
Kept afloat by hooks and strings
and hope for what the future brings.

Although we walk with heads face down
Our minds are always with the clouds.
So Fear we not the light of day
Fear we not the dark and strange.
Hear we not the staggered cries
Hear we not the whispered lies.
Hear we may with open eyes.
Hear the shifting slow surprise.

As death hath stared us face to face
We quickly find our proper place.
A world that spins and spins again.
It spins and dances without end.
Just as that we aim to be.
In cycles of eternity.
Without reason to stand still
We dance away our debts and bills.
Shaking off our worldly ties
Transcending toward our final lives.

Slowly walking down the street.
With no idea of who we’ll meet.
Still you’ve felt this all before.
Soon to learn what stakes are for.
Be careful when you call the bluff.
For one wrong move may be enough.

Cure (poem)

Darkness draining from your bones.
Left to drip and dry alone.
Brand new life breathed into thee
Slowly thy began to see.
A hundred years of wounds and scars
All shut before the shining stars.

A trembled shift unto your knees.
Almost dropped by a passing breeze.
On shaking feet you try to stand,
and fall but catch the ground in hand.
Till at once we lift you up.
With unseen hands you’ll learn to trust.
A flash of light beams from the sky
With messages that flood the eyes.
Suddenly your not so cold.
No longer feeling wretched and old.
Cracked old skin feels new and smooth.
No longer does it hurt to move.

The energy that courses through
Hath been cleansed, again renewed.
You shed your chains and than your locks
Traded pains for spirit drops.

So if your heart is filled with hate
Take control of your own fate,
So long as your soul survives
The mind can always be revived.
Before your spirit turns to gray
Become the cure you need today.

Tragedy (poem)

Take my hand and follow me,
We’ll show you what you need to see.
A forest coated deep in ash,
A plane that’s just about to crash.
A man who hides his wedding ring
To fool some drunken pretty thing.

A plague that travels coast to coast.
A lonely soul who’s feared by most.
One who fails to understand,
The feelings of his fellow man.
He who rises just to kill.
A teenage mom strung out on pills.

A baby born into withdrawal
The stillborn never lived at all.
Mother of whom took her life
A husband grieving for his wife.
Like romeo and Juliet.
He puts the barrel to his head.

A list of things we hate to be
Yet everywhere we look you see.
The world is not a happy place,
and rarely are we ever safe.

While their hearts grow cold and bare,
The best of us begin to care.
But caring changes not a thing
No matter what the words you sing.
But maybe if you change yourself
Than you could impact something else.

The ritual (poem)

Where emerald pillars once had stood,
The ground began to crack.
Amidst the masses, clothed in hoods
The closest stumbled back.
The air grew sour, thick and dry.
Many would cower, the crowd grew shy.

In the crack was dropped a seed.
And one by one they lined to bleed.
With onyx knives they tore the skin.
Till every member had given in.
Their sacrifice of running life.
That each had spilled.
To seal the night.

Than out the cracks began to grow,
A darkened plant was rising slow.
Soon it towered over we.
It’s flowers start to bloom and bleed.
At first the crowd began to cheer.
But excitement soon was blurred by fear.
The closest to the plant had dropped.
The bulb upon the plant had popped.
Revealing tendrils, fire and teeth.
Upon our men the beast did feast.

Back into the ground it curled.
We hoped that it had left our world.
The few of us who made it out.
Had never spoke of or about.
The cult who had so instantly
Been killed off by the demon seed.

Writer’s Block

To our followers, the recent lack of content is no secret.  Going from multiple uploads  a week to hardly ever. This could easily be written off as laziness but in truth I am at a loss for new ideas.

Not that my creative process has halted completely. Though less often, I’ve still been drawing, working on music and developing some longer term ideas and projects. However I’m facing a severe lack of inspiration for articles,lyrics and poetry.

In hindsight this may not be a bad thing for two reasons.

  1. It invokes a lot of reflection on my writing style, skills and creative process.
  2. It’s forcing me to look to new sources of inspiration across all fronts. I’ve been reading way more, and seeking out new artists, musicians and creators to draw from.

Hopefully either a new wave of ideas come soon, or I reach a stage in one of my longer term projects where I can release something. Until than I apologize for the silence, and thank you to everyone who stayed following/subscribed despite the recent lack of uploads. You guys rock!