Tag Archives: poetry

Junk Food and Gasoline

A world that sends you reeling from decimated dreams. Your misery and hate kill us all. So paint it black and take it back. Let’s shout it loud and clear. Defiant to the end we hear the call…to carry on.  ~My Chemical Romance

Traveler Sunshine The Clouds Wilderness

Let me tell you a little story about myself.
A little story that shows how I think.
It is presented in lots of speak that doesn’t stream together.
But who cares, let’s have a look.

Traveling down a road he looks to the other side and decides to go off on his own.
A motivation brought on by the longing of something different.
Yet, when the road is back into view, he runs back to it with his tail between his legs.
A coward some might say, others might call it a tactical retreat.

This man takes  a few steps into the wild and sees a light.
One that defines and shines in the sky, both at night and during day.
When he is adrift it lights his way and when he hides it brings out what he wants to keep hidden.
An open book that is hidden well behind this tree.

Next, he sees himself in a parade.
Colors are everywhere, and then in the distance he sees it.
It looks like hope… hope in the form of a black shrouded figure running off into the crowd.
The parade is going swell, so he decides not to pursue the silent observer.

The floats fly high in the sky.
Held up by the dreams of those around him.
Their colors represent the wins he wishes he could have.
Also illuminating the sin that is always in his head.

One day the shrouded man came to his door.
He knocked and knocked, but he did not answer its call.
Glued to TV screens and gasoline…
Junk food and short bursts of ecstasy that mean nothing in the long run.

The knocking began coming at least once a week.
Always lasting for hours at a time and sometimes he answers the call.
A wave hits his chest when he does for the entirety of the worlds oceans crash into his apartment.
He drowns and lives again as the shrouded mans’ cloak disrobes to reveal the light that is always present.

The end of our tale is close and the climax may come.
The problem with that though is the story is continuous and I don’t know how it will end.
The only part I am sure about is that the other side will be there with open arms,
But what will need to be endured to get there is not in my control.

He sits still, the only thing moving is his mouth.
Singing a song about hope, love, death, pain, and life.
An eclectic mix of power pop, metal, and rock.
A blending of ideals, looking for a balance of learning about other views and solidifying his personal beliefs.

He sits and he sings.
He sings because it is worth it to him to understand the melodies that have been given to him.
He sits and he weeps.
He weeps for the chance to make a difference, or for happiness and joy that can sometimes ring true.

He is sitting their singing the songs of saints and sinners.
Singing the songs of pain from the unbelievers.
Singing the songs of hope and redemption.
He waits for the knock to come and the ocean to meet him once more.

I look and I see the story unfolding all around me.
Wondering if it is just me who sees their life in metaphorical agony?
Wondering if it is just me who examines their hopes and dreams in context of melodies?
All in all I see it as a dance between me, myself, and the Maker of I.

 

 

Easy Listening Meet Metal

“This is for the kids with the beaten in lips, whose parents try to shut them up using their fists. Keep living loud and proud. They never can hold you down. This is for the kids with a soul like mine. When people tell you living is a waste of your time. Keep living loud and proud. They can never hold you down.” ~Beartooth

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What is going on inside of the exits?
Inside of the blacks and the whites?
I am going to sit and here and listen to a few songs.
Ones that enter into my head and don’t ever let go.

Detailing the lies being told and figuring out what is in the fold.
Heading towards an entrance or an exit.
It doesn’t really matter which, because they are one and the same.
Listening to a song that I decided will bless your name.

A thunderous drive into the double bass.
Answering the calls of the screamer to the singer.
A metal drive that couples punk into the machine.
Mixing clean singing with chaos, that brings out the beauty of  everything around me.

A melody contradicting dichotomy.
Empathy surging through my entropy.
Organized chaos diving in and out of my song.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I weep and then I yell.
I call out and fall.
I decided to come down on my own.
I didn’t need your sympathy, but I needed your eyes.

This song is one that has highs and lows.
Singing about the kids that decided their lives don’t deserve a song.
What Hell are we living in when music can’t bless your soul?
A complete set of lies that answer only to the name of the enemy.

Light the fire and drive into the melody.
Set fire to the city and couple it with life.
For it is better to burn it to the ground… 
Than living a life of mediocrity.

I will sit here for a while and listen to my song.
I love seeing how it has developed.
A driving force of the double bass and the screams that ignite my soul.
Then to mellow out and sing out a praise.

Cheers to you…the empty and the lost.
Cheers to the easy listening and to the metal.
Cheers to the kids that decided to come to the show.
Cheers to you and your life that is more beautiful than you know.

“We’re nothing but hollow vessels in search of what makes us alive. I never said this was my revolution when you looked me in the eye.” ~Underoath

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Easily Offended

See, opinions are easier to swallow than facts. The grays instead of the whites and the blacks. If you shoot it too straight it won’t come back. We’re selling the news.  ~Switchfoot

Waaah!

He’s on track for something beautiful.
A letdown that is described as genius.
Taking out those that offended him today.
But you know… his feelings were hurt because you glanced his way…
So it is okay.

Trudging around and taking names.
Knowing he is part of the group that will live to complain another day.
Thank God a joke was made I have something to get angry at.
Crap, everyone is being so nice, they must be hiding something… time to get upset.

Jumping to conclusions before asking questions.
Knowing answers before letting anyone speak.
This is the way of life for a lot of those around me.
The golden age of technology muddled by disarray.

When the facts are pushed to the side for an answer based on feelings.
Or being tolerant by breaking the others head.
Using the heart to justify all walks of life.
And having no limit on what is considered right.

But you know it is okay.
I’ll keep on living anyway.
Well maybe not,
If they deem my life not to be right…

You know what?
I’ll go on and live despite what they say.
Because I have a right to seek after what I think is right.
Even if it flies into the faces of the easily offended and trite.

 

 

 

I Tried and I Failed (Participation Trophy)

“I’ll fantasize of being manic and leaving us behind. In your eyes, you were the one that tried. Acceptance is what holds us here. Then you my dear are the one I fear tonight.  We’ll try this one more time.” ~Underoath

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He asks questions he thinks deserves to be answered.
Integrating compassion into entropy.
Taking shots at people who would be better off longing for more.
And lacking the maturity to ask questions that may make a semblance of sense.

She walks through life with a splint in her personality.
Happy and sad inhabit the same space.
Depression is a welcoming change of pace.
And lacking the steam to press on when she has a minuscule amount of joy.

Together they form the modern entitlement.
Equal parts apathy and laziness.
Hoping to be discovered from a singular occurrence.
Stepping to the left because it is easier than stepping to the right.

Or maybe the right seems like an easier choice.
I don’t think it matters to the modern consumer.
Where taking it easy looks like the way I am supposed to be.
Instead of failing and learning and not getting that participation trophy.

Not to diminish hard times and face to face lies.
Not to say we are not all a bit lowly.
But today it is easier to wait than try.
When they tell you that it is okay to be not okay.

When hope is diminished to a flame hidden.
And the lights from peoples eyes die so quickly.
The hopeless have better questions than the believer.
When we fight and die in the name of being tolerant to my fellow man.

Just go out and work hard.
Go out and love your fellow man.
Find out who your are and die fighting for it.
Instead of sitting down waiting to be discovered by lying over indulgent agencies..

I don’t want your participation trophy.
I want to earn my rewards, my accomplishments, my chance to have hope and be free.
I don’t care what you think of me.
I choose to carry on and I strive to love despite all the times I wanted to flee.

At least I tried.
Not for a trophy, or for an award.
But to be a better version of who I once was.
To do better and to do good.
To be someone that I always knew I could.

She’s in Love with Chaos

“She was a wreck. but he loved her. She was a wreck, but so was he.” ~Copeland

 

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It looks like a heartache waiting to happen.
When the phone hits the floor and she is left alone.
The other line dead and the voice has stopped.
And the drumming from her head is working harder than her heart.

She’s in love with chaos.
The ups and the downs.
The lefts that are actually rights, her mind begging to be found.
She’s in love with chaos.
The unknown, is the start of her disorganization alone.

Picking up the pieces and moving one.
Going from one phone to another waiting to belong.
Not trying to hard to sing a better song.
All she does is wait for heartache, to become her white and black swan.

She’s in love with chaos.
The deaf tones of awkward lies.
The messed up deliveries of sought after lines.
She’s in love with chaos.
With her mind, taking deep breaths and taking names that she must find.

Sectioned off and in the crowd.
Determined for more than a sour sound.
But not giving it enough effort or follow through.
The choice is hers, even though she’ll never limit herself to a few.

She’s in love with chaos.
The ups and the downs.
The lefts that are actually rights, marked with hearts waiting to be found.
She’s in love with chaos.
Heartbreak brought on, by late night phone calls and luck based falls.

She’s in love with chaos.
And the Lord knows…
That one day maybe her eyes will see the light being shown.
She’s in love with chaos and the rest.
For one moment she breaks and finally passes a test.

Maybe a Bit of Entropy

“Stars looking at our planet watching entropy and pain.”  ~Switchfoot

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My empathy sometimes turns into entropy.
A confusion of thoughts and ideas that sometimes get thrown onto a blog.
A clear cut meaning doesn’t always come through.
But that is nothing new.

For people write, talk, and sing.
They do all these things to audiences that may or may not see what they are trying to say.
A little worry here, and a lot of anger over there.
A bit of chaos that can bind together the linearity of my life.

Break down what it means to be alive.
Take it down to the basic elements.
What are we left with?
I am left with you, God and me.
And maybe a bit of entropy.

Times of Struggle and Happiness

Philippians 4:6-7 do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

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I look to you when I am in the depths.
But for some reason I turn my head when everything is going right.
Why do I deny my precious father when I think I am going so well?
Jesus, I call out to the depths of me.

I call out to thee…

I stretch out my hands in times of need.
But for some reason they are frozen by my side when I believe everything is going right.
Why do I forget to praise you in my time of elation?
Jesus, I call out to the depths of me.

I call out to thee…

Jesus, come and set me free.
Jesus, take this doubt away from me.
In the moments when I feel light headed.
To stretches of happiness.

I call out to thee…

Thank you Lord for understanding.
Because I don’t always understand you.
You are a mystery that decided to love me.
Jesus, come and be my strength.
I call out to thee…