Make me cry

The hilarity of marriage vows
I take you to be my wedded wife
and say goodbye to any nightlife
with this ring i thee wed
those words should not have been said
then come the words, to have and to hold
only being said to get her hands on some gold
for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health
what she really means is, as long as there's wealth
i promise to be true in good times and in bad
little do you know, your secretly being had
I will love you and honor you all the days of my life
while deep in her mind she is twisting the knife
from this day forward, for better, for worse
its a shame you don't reseal these words are a curse
from this day forward, till death us do part
that was the point when she ripped out my heart

Swimming In The Flood

What can I do?
The river is overrun
Everyone passes me by
You're the only one who knows
As others swim in this flood
I'm struggling
I'm scared
I'm drowning

We once kept ourselves afloat
Only to move onto another
I thought I found the one
But she was worse than the water
She held me beneath for so long
I swear I thought we were flying

What can I do?
She's drowning me
And I need her to breath
Was she truly surprised
To see me swim desperately back to you?
I'm struggling
I'm scared
I'm drowning

Once more we kept ourselves afloat
But fortune brought you another to hold,
I thought you were the one
To save me from this water
In desperation and fear
I'd swim back to her

What can I do?
The river is overrun
The only one I have
Is holding me underneath the water
As others swim in this flood
I'm struggling
I'm scared
I'm drowning

As the years painfully passed
My tortured lungs finally collapsed
And as my soul took flight
It seems God had other plans
I awoke once more in the flood
And gasped, and cursed God, I was back

What can I do?
I never learned how to swim alone
The only one i've had
Is swimming with her lover
As others swim in this flood
I'm struggling
I'm scared
I'm drowning

What can I do?
The river is overrun
I thought I felt your touch
But your hands belong to another
As others swim in this flood
I'm struggling
I'm scared
I drown

Wilderness

It has begun that I
can mould my mind like snow
each drift, a heavy thought
compressed into my palms

one holds heartbreak,
the other, failure
sphered into solitude
that crunches beneath my feet.

I walk against the fog
the cold stinging my lungs,
my eyes in strange orbits
of the black sun that sits
like a crow in the oak tree
that haunted
my grandfather's yard

and the music is so loud now
that it drowns out everything,
every last submission to arms
that only love in minor keys
and bow before water
to hold divinity in their pores.

The sound of this violin
wraps me in blanket creases,
strokes my hair while I vomit
from the poignancy of pain
like it's all I've ever held
within me:

my Father's sigh,
her charred hair in soil

this soul that is strung
from macramé storms

Joshua

Joshua doesn't cry anymore

He never really knew his name
He was always 'little bastard'
'Bloody pest'
Used to cry for his mum
But she'd never come
Now stands mute in his cot
This unwanted tot
Clad in only a vest

Mum’s boyfriend comes
Nearly every night
Filled with hatred, spite
Joshua can’t understand why
He beats him, the cigarette burns,
Terrible plight

He screams, defenceless
Beaten almost senseless
Raising matchstick arms
In pathetic protest

Mother comes in the morning
Today is special, orange juice
Instead of water
And a biscuit with his bread
Social worker’s coming today
Be quiet, be good
Like a good boy should
His mother said

Belly swollen
From lack of nutrition
Protruding ribs
Proclaim dire condition
Sits silent on piss-soaked bed
Eyes dead
Chewing his bread


She calls, young, naive
Ready to believe
Josh is with my mum
Other side of town
Sorry to let you down
Didn't know what to do
I've got a job interview
The woman believes
As the mother deceives
Leaves

Midnight: He’s drunk, angry,
Inadequate junky bum
Beats Joshua’s mum
Then turns on him
Temper hot
Hurls the child
Across the cot
He’s strikes his head
Flops on bed
Blood oozing from his nose and ears
This child of two and a half tortured years

Joshua doesn't cry anymore

real men don't cry

my Larisa died five years ago this day
she fought a good fight
but cancer stole her from me
I didn't cry
I hide that pain
I stayed strong for her
for our children
I wiped there tears
and comforted there fears
and told myself
real men don't cry
stay strong.....

five years I've held this pain
this loss
this empty
my children see happy
strong
hero
real men don't cry
inside...I feel...

five years....

today I woke from a dream
my Larisa by my side
she said she understands
the pain
the lonely
the empty
she says "sweetie you need to let it out"
I whisper "real men don't cry"
she laughs her soft laugh
"my warrior, so strong for all to see.
you need to be free"
I whisper "I don't know how"
"let me help you my love"
she reaches inside
she hugs my soul
in the precious moment
my whole world falls apart
the walls inside
they disappear
and the tears
oh god the tears
they wash over me
like a river
and I am set free

Samantha

The brass ring slipped 
long before I could grasp 
your fragile paper wings 
in the tides of darkness 
immortalizing your name 
in dreams of endlessness. 

Beautiful girl 
Beautiful pearl 

Dance in the fields of never- 
ending beginnings, beneath 
the halo of your grandfathers 
enveloped with warmth of the sun 
and hypnotic tides of the moon 
reach for shooting stars to feel 
the pulsation of 

true flesh and bone. 

Journey through vacant 
eyes to my fractured heart 
you will hear echoes of 
forgotten lullabies, soaring 
to the famine skies, pleading 
for god's tears, wash the pain 

of my aching arms, weary 
without your soul. 

Caress tenderly with your 
touch. my face in your tiny 
palms. kissing like sunlight 
flowing in rivers of love 
before returning to 
ocean of newborn stars 

to sleep in the ebb and flow 
of constellations. 

Float with the untainted 
colors of the rainbow, beyond 
this deceptive mortal world 
where the language of love is 
misunderstood and construed. 
Purity drawn in defiance. 

Fly my angel, fly. Your lovely hair 
twirling with yesterdays sorrows. 

Come to me in the twilight hours 
of the night, whisper softly 
in the hallowed caves of the mouth 
Come to me when my blue bones 
yearn for your feathery touch 
Come to me when my fingertips 
coil at the truth, patched with lies. 

Come to me, when all hope, is gone. 

Just talking to Leone !


I thought it was you.

There was a warmth to the presence I felt that night.

Hell

I'll even go as far as saying your caress was familiar.

Unlike the stiff feeling of being suffocated and tied down,
I think I tried to hug you.

You don't come by a lot but when you do it feels good.

I needed you then and I need you now.

Honestly I wouldn't want you to see me until I am done here with this miserable chapter of my life.

When you came I was as clean as a whistle.

Good for a year and climbing.

I was getting terrible nightmares and what felt like visits from some one very angry.

I couldn't see anything, and if I tried to who knows what my imagination would have manifested?

I didn't need another hag scenario playing out.

 I kept both eyes open at all times.

This guy was creepy.

He was ridiculously strong too.

I learned that the less that I move the less scared I would be.

Almost like a true incubus both archaic and modern in terms of terminology itself.

I wake up sometimes with scratches on my back and wonder if I slept wrong.

I told dad  and we talked about it.

He understood and did not freak out on me.That's what parents are for.

I told him about the zombies in my dreams, the people that I was with, everything down to the last bullet that I didn't even want to use for myself to escape the demise in my dreams.

We came to the frank conclusion that "shit happens".

I recommend myself to get some psychotherapy then I realized I can't talk to the therapist like how I talk to my dad or friend's.

Withdrawal sucks.

I can't find it in myself to tell this guy that I like these dreams. That all this running and killing made me feel ok.

That I loved the hazy smoke clouds that I produced long ago induced this state of madness in my head.

That I jog and run at 4 in the morning in the New York City streets hoping for some one to get crazy and end it all.

That I looked for trouble just to find escape.

I was more dangerous sober and still am.

That's why I left and signed that silly contract.

I just wanted to escape life.

Once in a while I think about it. I tell myself it will get better.

It doesn't. Not yet at least.

That feeling that I used to get when I would sleep doesn't occur as much. His presence and pressure is much more subtle as if he is in my closet watching.

Just watching.

I met a beautiful girl out here and I loved her but like all good things in my life it didn't last long.

That kick started this downward spiral that leads me to talking to ghost of my past.

If anyone could see what I am becoming it should be you and if I die young then I know you'll be waiting to kick my ass back to animation.

I don't think I am crazy but something is wrong.

That girl left her mark.

Allana.

I had a dream about her that inspired me to write a song.

Searing migraines caused by chronic alcoholism and a false love for that white powder.

Sorry if I am off track.

It's been a while since I could talk to anyone.

About anything.

I love the song and it gets the point across I believe.

I wouldn't want you to read it tho. I used some vulgar language to let out my anger.

After writing it I think about her less and dreams about her are almost nonexistent.

I've been living like a bright star coming close to it's end.

The women, drugs, me.

I never thought it could happen to me. It did.

I used to be innocent simply because I did not care about myself enough to hurt others, but didn't want to be around others because they pissed me off once I saw their true colors.

I still try my best to never judge until I know.

Who am I to judge anyone?


Some of the most dangerous people I've met in life were loyal and wouldn't leave me to die alone in a blaze of glory.

I love my brothers back home.

Degenerates to the end.

I don't have many regrets and honestly this road to finding myself seems to be worth the risk.

It's not what you want to hear but you are here and you have to listen to me ramble on.

That's what mother's are for.

If I were to do therapy and tell them what I tell you I don't know what would happen.

Maybe they might just get overwhelmed, hit their timer, and write me a prescription for antidepressants.

I want some weed but it's been two and  a half years. Let's keep that up for a bit longer.

Just a bit.

This dry wall crap burns my nose and the crash makes me want to write some depressing stuff.

 I'll stop for sure.

I don't know when.

I will.

College will be fun.

Hopefully I can study in New York City where my crazy ass belongs.

I would like to learn how to write like a professional instead of a kid who spills his soul out.

I would love to write, speak or if my testicular fortitude grows maybe vocalize my soul out to everyone.

Obviously I dream.

It's all I have now anyway.

And these words.

Anyway dry up your tears and I'll talk to you whenever.

 I talked to dad this morning and told him the same thing except for the crying part.

He doesn't even know my full story and won't until I feel I can tell him or he is with you.

I guess I am a pussy for that.

Oh yea I forgot to tell you I curse a lot now. Dad knows.

When I see you don't try to give me that hardcore ass kicking that I am expecting.

You wanted to know how's life and I'm being honest.

Hopefully they will let me go where you are at or at least let me get visitation.

Anyway it was great talking to you and I'll see you way later hopefully.

I love you and I'll be as good as I can be.

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/200295-just-talking-to-leone/

Very good. Well done.

Within Our Society


As the child grows
Without always gettin' parents lovin',
A poor innocent rebel boy is torn
Within our society
And his attitude shows
'cause if there's one thing that he don't fear
it's another bullshit excuse to hear
Within our society

Parents, don't you understand
your children need a lovin' hand
or they will end up being angry and confused
Look back at your childhood and see
that you too were just like me,
do we teach what we got taught,
and simply look bemused?

When will society change
for all the children with a bad beginning
learning the same as their parents were told
It'll be interesting to see how ones life will unfold
Within our society

And their minds race
as they start to think about the life that awaits
and they yearn towards hate
and they yearn about ones fate
Within our society

Then one fling of romance
a newborn comes his way
He gets a job, rents a room,
tries his best, but he becomes a groom
And his attitude shows

As his family gather 'round the newly married man
forgetting his childhood parents ways,
now only good livin' on his mind
He forgets how his parents left him behind
Within our society

We've all been told and everyone knows,
without always gettin' parents lovin',
another poor innocent unloved child is torn
Within our society

Tiny Box.
http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b43/tabithadrake/sin_zps31skhhkh.jpg

Inside a tiny box                  
lays a tiny key                  
to my tiny heart.                
               
A toxic shock                  
that really hurt,                
Pandora's Box                
I was left to rot,                
I'm vacant.                
               
No feelings spared                
no one here to care,                
left alone              
Soon became                  
my home,                  
I'm fragile.                
               
Tucked away                
and out of sight,                
always in the darkness                
never in the light,                
I am heartless..      

... don't spoil her ...

I let you sneak in and sleep on my back
you like to play "lion" and chew on my ear
drowning my earholes
I can smell the candy you weren't suppose to have
in every breath

you nuzzle into my neck
covering the picture of Mami
etched along the breadth of my shoulders
from nape to tailbone

you say you like sleeping on Mami's picture
because you want to be pretty just like her

when you ask me questions i have no answers for
i tell you to go to sleep
you talk too much just like her

kneeling in St Peters
i brought morning roses for you

tell granddad no candy tonight