Flip

Fallen off the cliff
On top of the world
Drowning at the bottom
Risen to the surface
The difference one day can make
Structural collapse reducing to rubble
Body reconstructed from simple material
Emptiness of spirit
Filled with morsels
Doesn't take much
But it takes everything
Alone in the universe
Surrounded by companions
Lost in a drought
Satiated to the brink
A simple command changes it all
It only takes one moment
One instance
One communion
To life the countenance and flip the soul

The Promise

When the world comes crashing down,
And all is left a smoking ruin.
When the floodgates open,
And the salt flows over open wounds.
When all sense of balance is lost,
And you descend down into the darkest of pits.
When the skies burn.
When the earth no longer turns.
When the sun goes black.
When friends turn their backs.
Hearts break.
Walls shake.
Imposters fake.
Thieves take.
War.
Famine.
Conquest.
Death.
When all is lost, forgotten, and ruined.
When there's no light,
No will to fight,
Eternal night.
When agony sets in,
Burns from within,
And you can't win.

When it all shatters,
When it most matters,
I'll be there.

What It Does

Leading people astray
Obfuscating rationality
Voracious and unsatisfied
Excruciating
Hiding happiness
Undermining joy
Restricting the heart and lungs
The thing that brings together
Sometimes goes wrong

Blake poems

I wrote these for a school assignment two years ago. They're supposed to be in the style of William Blake.

The Wolf

Wolf, in white, why dost thy claw
Make fearful weapon of thy paw?
Shouldst thou not lie at side of man
According to His noble plan?

Fierce and proud, thy fearsome pack
Dost prowl and wait for the attack.
You prepare your own great feast,
A bounty for the grisly beast.

A predator purely at heart,
You tear the other beasts apart.
What craft would be designed to make
The others doomed to bend and break?

Could He who forged this weapon great,
Toiling in the hours late,
Have made the gentle streams and fields,
While power such as yours He wields?

So similar to man’s best friend,
Yet he you could so quickly end.
The one lies by its master’s side,
But you maintain your feral pride.

Wolf, in white, why dost thy claw
Make fearful weapon of thy paw?
Shouldst thou not lie at side of man
According to His noble plan?

The Goat

Bleating goat, on you is placed
All wrongs that can by man be traced.
Cursed to walk through desert dry,
You were thus condemned to die.

Sacrificed to take the blame,
Offered up through knife and flame,
Guilt absolved through pain and death,
Sin leaves with your final breath.

You did no wrong to call your own,
Other’s deeds on you were thrown.
Doomed to suffer for man’s plight,
You enter darkness to bring light.

Pure and spotless you must be
To take wrath from humanity.
Brought before the great high priest
In the lands far to the east.

In the past, you died to take
The condemnation to fiery lake
To one, a man, you did foretell
Who saved us from the pits of Hell

Bleating goat, on you is placed
All wrongs that can by man be traced.
Cursed to walk through desert dry,
You were thus condemned to die.

Our Race

The silence stabs, wounds, but never kills.
Walls of ice section off contact.
So easily broken, so easily shattered,
But never melted.
Get up, fall down.
Life's a constant stumble.
Never sure of your footing,
Blundering along like a drunk fool.
Knowledge; useless.
Debate; pointless.
Egos sap the fun out of fun.
The filling and refilling leads to nothing,
But an empty, dreary tiredness.
Stupid mistakes haunt a stupid brain.
Things said, unsaid, said wrong.
People run around with boxes to fit you in.
Protest, and you fit in the bad box, the trash,
To be thrown out with all the other wrong opinions.
To meet hatred with vengeance,
Stupidity with disdain,
Ignorance with ego,
It's all too easy.
Passing the blame from yourself,
To the other, then back to yourself.
As long as everyone's miserable.
And so we wander, like sheep with no shepherd,
Dashing madly to the next hole to fall in,
A crevasse to shatter our bones in,
And relieve us of our touted freedom.
The human race, ladies and gentlemen.
The race to oblivion.

Ready.

Set.

Go.

Good Friday

The darkest day
A man convicted of committing no crime
The faithful are hidden
The faithless triumphant
One true hope struck down before their eyes
Betrayed, beaten, bloodied, berated
Suffering no man should have to endure
Fueled by envy and ignorance
Ultimate regicide
The blackest night falls
Yet in the darkness lies the dawn
The spit on his face cleanses impurity
The stripes on his back mark us with glory
Each insult they hurl brings us good word
Each strike they deliver lessens our pain
Thorns pierce his head, and we are anointed
Nails driven in break through our chains
As his drops of blood fall, our souls quench their thirst
As he is lifted to death, we arise to life
The fall of man
The pain of God
Everything rises again

An Ode

Notes, rhythms, words
Composed, arranged, performed
Limitless
New sounds discovered
Old sounds revisited
Nothing lost, everything gained
So many different ways to do the same thing
Move the soul
Emotions, meanings, inspirations
Enter the ear straight through to the heart
Technology used to evoke primal feelings
Simplicity, complexity, all find their place
Recommendations, sharing and hearing
Aural journey beyond all description
A real form of magic
The sorcery and wizardry known as
Music

Days Gone By

A sunny day
Warmth and light in harmony
Gloom dissipates from both climate and person
Friendship and song
The grind turns to leisure
The mundane to pleasure
Nothing goes wrong
Joyful three days
Raise the sunken heart in me
Soon everything will be finished and work done

48 Hours

Two days feeling like decades
An early start and an early finish
Staving off exhaustion

The day feels almost over
So much has already happened
It hasn't yet begun

Change of plans, much for the better
Melodies warm the soul and chill the spine
Witness to pursuit of excellence

Entering an awkward situation
Inquired, encouraged, but not quite ready
Maybe another day

Yet another night spent in good company
Time wasted, yet producing something needed
The night ends well

Times have changed, speaking literally
Sleep deprivation leads to over-satiation
At least I'll get something done

So much can happen in 48 hours
Entering memory as a crystal-clear blur
My goodness I'm tired

This Song Is Called

Trapped Under Ice, Friends Will Be Friends.
Celebration Day.
I Can Learn, Learning To Live.
A Better Tomorrow.
Dear Friends, You're My Best Friend.
Speak To Me/Breathe.
Constant Motion, Forward Motion.
Good Times Bad Times.
Losfer Words, The Things You Said.
This Was My Life.
Let The Good Times Roll, ...As The Future Repeats Today.
With A Little Help From My Friends.
Problems, Our Infinite Struggle.
How Many More Times.
Until The End, Tomorrow Never Knows.
A Day In The Life.
Daylight Dies, The World We Live In.
Embrace The World.
When This World Fades, World To Come.
The Balance Of Eternity.

Writing a Poem

Sitting at the screen.
Inspiration needs to come soon.
I'm trying to write.

What is my purpose?
Should I be witty, funny, serious, heartfelt?
Should there be rhyme, reason, rhythm?
Why am I doing this anyway?
To impress people?
To express something?
Or just to have fun?
No answer comes to mind.
There's plenty to draw from.
Music, feelings, events, concepts.
But the right one is a different question.
And who's to judge if it's right?
Others? Me? God? Standards?
Is there a point?
Does it even matter?
What exactly is a poem, anyway?

Sitting at the screen.
I think of something.
I start to write.

I Have No Idea What This Poem Will Be About

Probable cause of trembling lights
Snow falling down the icy paths
Blades sheathed in wintry leather
Lights out
Black sheep screams for justice
Cord connected countless
Too much knowledge
Not enough time
Too many people
All of the answers are wrong
Discord to harmony, melodious cacophony
Active lethargy
Paradoxical witticisms are apparently awesome
Quote the Raven: "Nevermore" (Raven)
Format acquired
The end

The Pyramid

Mysterious
Towering over
Ancient kings' tombs
Symbols of great power
Built from blood and sweat
Monuments to an empire long gone
Imagery applied to the future great nation
Peaked by enigmatic all seeing eye
Geometry made not just math
Mixed into some theology
Shadows on sand
Egypt's trilogy
Pyramids

Christmas Spirit

The flight home is over, to my own bed I go.
I drift away quickly; it's good to be home.
The next day, a party with all of my friends.
Dressed up and filled up, the revelry ends.
Sunday, my loving old church takes me in.
Just like before, I stand up and sing.
Tuesday, my sister brings her Christmas cheer.
We put the tree up, and the season's here.
Wednesday, my friends once again show their love,
As I lead them in praise of our God up above.
Today, my nephew brightens our days,
Melting our hearts with his effortless gaze.
Tomorrow, the eve of our dear savior's birth,
I join my church family in worship and mirth.
Peace on this earth, goodwill to men, you know the rest.
I have been blessed.

A Day's Caroling

Bundled and shivering, quite far from home,
Not quite accustomed to the season of snow.
Warming of hands, singing of songs,
Eating and drinking till the chills are gone.
Outside once more to carol again,
Huddled together with one hundred friends.
Making a tenth of our size's day brighter,
Letting them listen to our great college choir.
Christmas is near, be of good cheer,
Or that's what I hear.

On the Internet

Artificial glow shining onto my weary face
Time desperately wasted, frantically disposed
Attempting to glean whatever joy is contained within the confines of this open world
How dull
At least music makes it interesting
Back to the site, maybe it's funny the 11th time
Or not
But what if I try the other one?

The Wristwatch

He sits, slumped in his armchair,
Appearing to sink into velvet quicksand.
He glances at his watch, then continues to stare
At the void which holds his gaze.
In anticipation, he checks his watch again,
Tracing the time passing over him.
Each time he looks, the same image greets him.
Unmoving, the broken watch tells its tale.
His heart, broken as his timepiece, ticks in its stead,
Prolonging the agony.
He waits for her word, her nod, her acceptance,
Consent and concurrence that his love is real.
He awaits her response with a hope as eternal
As the time embodied upon his wrist.
And so he sits, and waits, and checks his watch,
Always waiting for the moment that never comes.

Teenage Wasteland

Annuit Coeptis

Summer freezes over, shattering a beating heart
Images burn like the setting sun, an imprint on a dirtied canvas
Flames melt the icicles streaming down a face
It chokes
Wet and dry
Rivers flow, and are dammed
We meandered through the rows of knowledge
Pondering interests
I was happy to be where I was
I hated where I was
Frustration and satisfaction strove for dominance
And neither was the victor
New knowledge illuminated truth
Breaking and tearing
The page is closed
A song ended
Thoughts dash through a mind, splashing in the puddles of sanity
No one knows
Truth be told, it’s insignificant
Yet of utmost importance
Hypothetical and theoretical
Nothing is changed
Except the future

I walk through the valley
It walks on me
I turn my face to avoid the blows of a violent force
I return to placidity
Someone tells me they are sorry
Sorry for all that has happened
The sheets of ice crack and float away, perhaps forever
Glaciers rise
Snow falls
Water is frozen
Desolation
Spurning sweetness, they drink the bitter water flowing from rocks of spite
Rationality drowns in the growing depths
Why?
It is so.

Who is that?
What are they holding?
Why are they pouring it out?
Where is it falling?
When will it arrive?
How will we survive?

The figures beside me fade
I rise and behold
The earth is flooded
Waves of flame break upon the shore
Torrential downpour of fire
Consume
The mountains blaze, giving no mercy to those that entreat them
The torment goes on
Those who killed the king became the kings
Their king is dead
They inherit death
There is no respite
No help found
No hope
But that which can be found in a moment
The stillness of the unassuming night
Speeches to scum
Messages to the malevolent, now meek
An unjust punishment
Bloody corpse displayed
Cavern sealed
Entrance cleared
Arise
Ascend
Given a gift, a dozen go
A million received
There is no hope
But that
Lux mundi

The end is known
The path is dark
Flames will illuminate

Sohn des menschen

What Else Is New?

The sun shines, the earth turns.
Time doesn't stop, it keeps flowing.
Stuff happens, much of it bad.
So what else is new?

People are fallen, they do the wrong things.
People react without thinking ahead.
They fight with each other to do the most "good."
So what else is new?

Creatures are mortal, they wane and perish.
Sometimes they're snuffed out too quickly.
Human, animal, whatever we love, gone.
So what else is new?

We get sick; our bodies, minds, and emotions.
Bones, spirits, hearts, all get broken.
Parts of ourselves we want perfect, aren't.
So what else is new?

Powers that be do nothing but destroy.
They spit on their duties and tighten their grip.
Stupidity and arrogance rule the day and the world.
So what else is new?

Life is hard.
This isn't a surprise.
How you get through it is the difference.

What else is new?