[x]

AstrologicalI have lost myself to
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.

Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).

Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.

lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
uncompromisingly
desperate to shine.

ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
unworthy tongue.

iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.

iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.

v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."

The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming arms of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment I didn't hear you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along

False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen

Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for?
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude

ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).

False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams,
strangled by weeds, face down in the ground
with no roses to mourn them.

Singers are poets that croon
(if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)
and poets are false prophets -
true love will last forever
if they care to write it,
but not if you swallow the lines...

yet, they always do.

We all have a place
set for us in the shade
in our own private garden of weeds.

False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for

Psychotic ramblingsI, in the eternal void rest,
Am the unwanted thirteenth guest,
Insane, deranged and psychotic,
There are people who even call me sick.

Isn't it joyful and greedy to demand
A sacrifice of strangulation at the reach of the hand?
Cure the poisoned in a prison built of mental sand.

Murder is the solution brought by the resolution.
Is this the final, one and only conclusion?
Better think again, there will be no retribution.

Death is not the liberation, just the beginning.
Is there eternal peace? The solution is sinning.
Unacceptable lies become the truth, the chaos keeps spinning.

VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymes
By the people in their endless time
As the morning dew breaks the day
Back to where the city-lights once laid

The lamp-posts are filled with black starlight
As the children run in their flight
With cries of sorrow, cries of pain
The old houses creaking with disdain

Acidic puddles of blood-wet tears
Remain on the street through all these years
As the cracks have hid the crumbled dust
Within these roads of bone and rust

The melody of the birds is lost
To the screeches and screaming loss
There are people cowering in the dark
Murmuring, whispering their tortured remarks

Flames ignite the world in fire

Lovers and assassinsNight
walk

WakefulI remain awake with dreams on my mind
and stories that wait to be knit into books.
To never find comfort until my pillows are
stuffed with thoughts instead of feathers
To never let go until I made sure that
the moon smiled back at me
Until the trees, the grass, and every night creature
has whispered good night...
And yet I'm still as wakeful as an owl
afraid that sleep would somehow
grab my neck and drag me to my grave.

bad nightmy mistakes are on my head,
and the cigarettes taste like metal;
on the street curb of a suburban block,
the lights jaundiced and flickering
like drunken fireflies, your reflection
that emanates from me covers every face.

HumanDear Hypocrite,

What do you do?
Throwing insults when you're insulted.

Dear Coward,

Where went you?
To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.

Dear Liar,

What say you?
Your poison corrupts innocent ears.

Dear Human,

What are you?
A sinner trapped in endless tears.

Watercolor PainWhen you smile,
I turn colorblind.

It turns into a somersault
whenever I gain contact
with your skin,
bare back touching
bare back.

But I'm not hungry
for bedposts.

I just want to
savor each moment your arms
lock into mine,
the romanticism of
the moons in my eyes
and the skies in your words.

There's smoke
behind all those hues
of hazel and your fingers
are porcelain,
but I still love you.

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And Always There's The SunI'm dying inside, this pain is slowly destroying me.
Yet each day the sun comes up, just as bright as ever.
A cancer is what our love has become, its killing me to feel.
Yet I do feel the pain, it lets me know im alive and this is real.

I look up from the ground, and think to myself "I tried"
The tears they fall to the ground, now to them I look.
All my friends tell me, "your better off", "move on"
And like always as I wake up, the sun still rises at dawn.

All alone in my own mind, am I better off dead I wonder.
The sun goes down, as it does every single day of life.
My friends take me to the bar, I drag myself down the street.
Jus

Really?....When I left in such graceI leave in such grace.
And you show such anger.
I fake a smile upon my face.
You look upon me like a stranger.

I take the high road for the view.
And you take the one underground.
I try to remember good times with you.
You pray I won't make a sound.

Even knowing what you did.
I am able to move on.
How could you hope it to be hid.
Your love was just a con.

My hands were soft as silk.
Moving on I am.
Our love you have killed.
Into reality you've been slammed.

After what you put me through.
I'm happy and glad to be free.
I care no more for you.
One person matters that is me.

~Adam Matthews

No CompanionTo live for lust, that is an easy life.
How easy it is, to lie, and cause strife.
To say the words, she longs to hear.
To pretend your so close, yet nowhere near.

This task seems hard to some, yet easy to those who hate it.
To have "game" is easy, simply don't want it.
To want something more, yet it be out of your reach.
To try and move on, and "game" be all you can teach.

But do what you do, and live what you know.
Sad to live your life, with nothing but woes.
Sad how one mans chore, is another mans easy day.
And both still be wanting, in your own different way.

Funny tho too, how some would long for that.
Yet some of us tho, Ar

Tick TockTime passes slowly, every moment, a mockery.
As I watch the clock and smile, at all those who hate me.
tick tock, goes the clock, tick tock...... tick tock.

The boss comes in, nothing good have I done.
Instead of my job, I must have just had fun.
tick tock, goes the clock, tick tock...... tick tock.

Hard times ahead, more bosses to appease.
No matter what I do, it seems no one will be pleased.
tick tock, goes the clock, tick tock...... tick tock.

To much to do, and far to little time.
To work someone like this, truly must be a crime.
tick tock, goes the clock, tick tock...... tick tock.

Many hours must have passed, from all the wo

My Heart is YoursMy heart is yours, has been for a while.
yours in return, is all I ask with a smile.

How quick I fell, to those who know me.
even though the piece, that is left may be weak.
a piece that has been given, to you for free.
ready to live forever, your happiness what I seek.
to live, and to love, to turn you and I, into we.

Is this to much, for two who have been broken.
say nothing, the answer is to be seen, not spoken.

Your heart is like mine, a piece not quite strong.
our love will take work, several hurrdles we must face.
until the end of time, however short or long.
ready to do what it takes, no matter what the case.
so my heart i

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Submitted: November 13, 2012
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The Unknown Friend

by *WarriorPoetAdam, Nov 13, 2012, 8:17:32 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

I keep looking for the answer, and yet I find the same thing.
I keep wondering, what is wrong with me, you have no answer.
Everyone who knows me loves me, yet no one wants the job.
Friends... I have been blessed with more then most, yet not the one.
The closest, the you, the other half, the... soulmate.
If you think I'm complaining, your a fool in more ways then one.
I do what I can, I move on, I grow..... but not for others.
I keep forgetting who I am, then I'm reminded... the hard way.
I find what I'm looking for every time I see bottom.
Each bottle, each night, each memory forgotten, by myself.
My animal side, my instinct, my true self is cruel.
My heart beats slow, my mind clouded, my emotions... restrained.
First they leave, then they return, then i send them away.... I should.
"I don't want things to end badly".. if they didn't they wouldn't.
The bottle is my friend, he unleashes me, he sets me free.
The real me. the one i don't control, no one does... true freedom.
I am my own worst enemy, and the love I truly feel......
Comes from the bottom of a bottle, my friend, my enemy... my love.

~Adam Matthews

The Unknown Friendby *WarriorPoetAdam

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

to you coming from me, friend is a four letter word

The Artist has requested Critique on this Artwork

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~oakleafninja23 Nov 18, 2012 Student General Artist

It is. Simply beautiful.

*WarriorPoetAdam Nov 18, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you very much

~oakleafninja23 Nov 18, 2012 Student General Artist

Welcome!

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The Unknown Friend

The Unknown Friendby *WarriorPoetAdam

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