“Out”

Another poem from the drafts folder, about meeting good people who won’t judge you solely over the holidays you do and don’t celebrate, and treat you the exact same way as before once they know; the ones who don’t let one difference define you in their eyes.

 

It’s no use pretending

In fact, it feels like a sin

Living a dream I don’t feel within

 

The truth must be told

When I’m put on the spot

I’ll tell the truth; may hurt a lot

 

I hope he doesn’t judge me

Won’t treat me differently

I hope I hope I hope I hope

 

I’m pleasantly surprised

The truth is finally out

Nothing here to fuss about

 

It’s nice being open

It’s nice to say it’s so

‘Cause real-deal people never go.

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I’m 95% sure this poem’s about Pyrrha Nikos

RWBY-fan-poems?  I guess that’s a thing now. 😛  I was going through my drafts folder and happened upon this non-rhyming mess.  It’s probably told from the perspective of  someone watching the Vytal Festival tournament, someone who only knew Pyrrha for her celebrity status, and not Jaune.  Surely millions of other citizens of Remnant admired Pyrrha and recognized her as the spokeswoman of the Pumkin Pete cereal in they ate in the morning.

I see her face on the cereal box every single morning
The epitome of elegance, fitness, health, and grace
I saw her kill a girl today; then the darkness came

They say it happens to everyone involved in celebrity
Whether they trash their homes, hotels, our streets
Or they drink and party their way to self-destruction

But since that girl on the cereal box so suddenly went away
I can’t help but wonder if she was all that she appeared
For some people’s faces hide secrets from our reality

Treat me like a stripe in your banner

Treat me like a stripe in your banner

I simply don’t fit in society’s life planner

When kids in school played being grown

I found peace and solace all on my own

 

Is this some part of the prudish thing

A short-lived phase that’s come to sting?

My time will come in the traditional way

But that time, make note, is not this day

 

So let me hang onto the tattered rags

That ravel from your gaily colored flag

Until arrives my one, true destiny

I’ll take this semblance of unity

 

I hope you get it, my favorite color

Has temporarily switched to another

So I can enjoy some solitude

This is my choice, I am a prude

He’s Out There

I don’t often do poems with religious overtones, but here’s one. Enjoy?

Inside the depths of your little museum

Stay the greatest of artwork and artists

Ever to cross your corner of the world and

Ending where the allies drew her lines

You thought it’d be simple enough to hide

Over the hills, safe within Mother’s proxy but

Under G-d’s watchful eyes – He’s out there

Believe if you want to or hide in your anger

Underneath Siberia’s deep snow and ice

But I believe that He’s watching me too

splitting of the sea

it’s been 10 wonderful joyous years

but behind the joy lies a trail of tears

tears shed for misunderstandings

misunderstandings of you and me

 

for 10 glorious, wonderful years

i held back shedding all my tears

i held on to the memories of ours

ours to cherish of peace and love

 

but things can change in 10 years

people can change in 10 years

the girl i once was is no longer

the woman you want me to be

 

i stand before this pool of tears

collected in these 10 long years

years i took to craft this staff

the staff i’ll use to split the sea

 

and now it’s over

Pretense (Please Stop)

I found this old lyrical poem in my notes.  It’s probably going to go into my poetry album project (which I’ll discuss eventually on here in more detail), depending on how well it reads.  For an early attempt at verse, this one isn’t half bad.

We haven’t spoken for a year.

I’ve tried and tried to make it clear.

But here you are again,

Using that same old line.

You’re looking for a pretense.

Please stop.

 

You follow after me all the time,

To talk about your dirt and grime.

Trying to leave, making excuses.

Using that same old line.

I don’t want your pretense.

Please stop.

 

Pretexts, pretenses that a lie enhances.

Saying things that aren’t true.

Making the words feel true to you.

Using your words to get to me.

I don’t think you truly see.

 

You’re holding on too hard to me,

Thinking that I won’t break free.

You tie me up with promises

Using your rusted twine.

I don’t want your “friendship.”

Please stop.

 

Pretexts, pretenses that there’s dependence.

Saying things that aren’t true.

Making the words feel true to you.

Using your words to get to me.

I don’t think you truly see

 

You held on too hard to me,

Like a rusty hinge.

You thought I needed your venom

For oil and polish.

This door’s been locked for ages,

Shutting you out like a princess disgraced.

‘Cause guess what–

I’m free!

 

Pretexts, pretenses that a lie enhances.

Saying things that aren’t true.

Making the words feel true to you.

Using your words to get to me.

I don’t think you truly see….

….That now, I’m free.

“When the Cool Kids Come Knocking at My Door” – a poem from my new audio collection

I just released a small audio collection of original poems and sound art, written and read aloud by yours truly.  “Cool Kids” is the first track in that collection.  If you’d like to hear me read it along with you, just press play!

 

Hello there, this is a courtesy visit to you

I wanna tell you what all the cool kids do

Because I wanna make a cool kid out of you

I’ll tell you the things I believe to be true

 

Hello there, kind sir, can I make you see

What other kids do doesn’t matter to me

There are so many things a person can be

Go swim in your oasis; I’ll stay in this tree

 

But ma’am, you really should show some respect

The things I can show, you might not expect

On all that I stand for my actions reflect

A grave, grave sin it would be to reject

 

But sir, I hope you’ll try to understand

Diversity is worth trying to comprehend

Please, sir, don’t cross my line in the sand

From across this line, I still shake your hand

 

So you really won’t try what the cool kids do

And try to enjoy all these things I hold true

I hope you get it, my favorite color’s blue

So if you join us, it can still be yours too

 

But I like my rainbow of my own choice

I prefer to tune out the background noise

As I try to figure out my own equipoise

I’m so sorry to disappoint you, boys

 

But please ma’am, if you simply believe

All of this goodness you soon shall receive

That’s all you need to do, then you can leave

To come back with joy, bearing your sheaves

 

Aha, I see what you’re doing there

Think you can use my words anywhere

Twist ’em and turn ’em, think I care?

‘Coz I know what works for me, so there!

 

But ma’am–

 

Have a nice day.