[x]

By burning waters, and smoldering bridges,
I await the genesis of our animosity.
Make the move that gives me permission to strike,
make the move that will bring about your end.

Near draws the line that which I advise you to never cross.
Though to my eyes comes the image of your sprinting legs.
It would seem, that through your veins flows pure pestilence,
and that you wish to bring upon me, nuisances by any cost.

Good God, such a fool bound for my throat,
knowing not the patient blade that waits.
Honor averts it's eyes, as your charge draws to an end.
It wishes this good and done, just as I.

A swift jerk of my arm to your direction

4. From Omphalos and Into the War Zone

The arachnid turned, and receded to the peak of the structure,
The creatures stood as still as the trees,
And soon, they too did retreat back to whence they came in the woods.
~
A powerful gust came to my shoulders,
And at a drumming pace did it come from above…
My ears then beheld in amazement, the beating wings.
~
The numbers were the sort that would leave you speechless,
Endless were the children of Creation, loyal to a dying & holy breath,
Swooping down, as their passing pulled me back towards the edge.
~
Here began my free fall from Omphalos and into the War Zone.
Past the maze which I once did tread, descending the mountain

Secrets

Here is my box
There is my key
Do you dare open me?

What secrets do I hold?
Are you willing to face the consequences
Of opening my box.

Are you willing to open me up
And look on the inside
What will you do when you see?

These secrets I hold inside
Are only one question away.
That question will open me up.

Will you open my box?

Autobiography

By Death and a prayer,
Through my tongue
A burning blade into
The hearts of many.

You know me not
But a name and a rumor.
Yes, to the will and way
By which I attempt to live.

Human am I, yet ever so strange.
Far gone, and close to madness
But still am I sane
By Death and a prayer.

Splendid Ascertainment

Long did I hold patience for this to come,
and the cliché cupid had at last found me.

As wherein our lips meet,
this living system of mine reminisces.

What memories have remained
in my forgetful storage continue

to serve my jaw the smiles
that you so know and adore...

For whatever reason, you chose me,
and pray I that God had a hand.

Though I deserve not a thing,
I receive beyond the expectations of my prayers.

Long did I await your arrival,
And I don't believe you were a second too soon.

Deserving of Nothing

My endless imperfections
shout to the very core of my soul,
Beating away at my humility,
To bare reminder
that I do not deserve you
in the slightest...
Grace is your very essence,
as you embody that which is perfection.
Whereas my rush
to find the flaws of my name,
You tell it tales true,
of the feelings you hold.
Abnormal is my persona,
and infinite apologies are due,
Many thanks, just as much,
are in order...
To God, to you....
Beauty be what has enraptured my heart
for the eternal hour at hand,
You and only you are the whom
that I most desire,But never deserve.

Fight or Flight In the Presence of Logic.

Find your common ground of shedding blood
In the far lands of Else Where,
For here is not the place where bodies should
Fall just short of their own sweat and tears.
It is fear that is the beast you so portray,
And an agenda so immorally laced with false teachings.
Here lies the home, once ancient and grown,
Now rubble in the growing pile
Of humanities excrement.
Its epitaph shall read nothing,
For no words can be written
by the lack of knowledge per this land....
Look your land in its dying eyes,
Listen to its final breaths...
The billowing sands that blow
Erosion into its elderly face.
make your way to the place in which

The Error of My Ways.

Head back
to where the die was cast.
Arise, reluctant to bare witness
to what unfolds.
Back where I believed,
like some arrogant fool,
that the good of the outcome,
outweighed the erroneous methods.
My delusions have turned so vivid
that they become commonplace
with my reality,
running hand in hand
towards my downfall
as a friendly face in the crowd...

Sons and Daughters of The Revolution

A Hierarchy lost in translation,
laid out before us, but so forgotten.
Lord forgive us our folly,
Such great division,
for reasons many.
To my human eyes,
the scorching history,
wayward amid all anarchy.
Fractions to masses,
to lead and wage war.
The eternal struggle,
to which we are oblivious,
but so highly involved.
Lord forgive me,
as I fear my efforts are in vain.

Atychiphobic Solution

Outcast and away from shore,
to the center of still waters,
where rest my tears.
A float, the setting sun
beats its dying light
against my coffin.
Where within lies
my mind in darkness,
afloat amongst the still
waters of my tears.
Confined to a rotting cage of wood,
Time is my mortician,
embalming me
at the edge of my thought.
The haunting consistency overtakes me,
compromising the process of my existence.
God help me, as the wood
is surely rotting all around me
I shall hold my breath
Just this once and final time.
I have found the haunted wake
past the lens of my sight.
I am the mad man,
within the shell of me
fightin

Sobriety's Rise

Sobriety's Rise

I exiled you from my veins

You will never affect me again

Take with you the very worst of me

I will no longer be a part of thee!
-
Too long have my eyes been closed
So many years have passed in vain
I couldn't let the road ahead get any worse

I'm no longer a victim of your taint
I dwell no more- in those old woes
Though I regret the pain I allowed myself to sustain

Mirrors don't snare / Family doesn't glare
This hope I bear / I've made it here

Cleansed my spirit away / Allowed scars to fade
Embraced the change / Unlocked the cage

My dreams no longer weep
The nightmares refuse to reimmerse
I can move forward if I really

Hand Cannon Overkill

The charismatic recluse
with a loner's philosophy.
Birds of a feather,
the punishments that I endure,
I cannot work beneath
these pressures,
The know-nothing status
in the search for myself
Goes on with trial & error...
All in all, I am merely awaiting
my own return.

By Hatred My Ode

The largest thorn of the thicket comes constant to my side...
My attempts to remove have only placed in through my hand.
My prayers are weakened as I am bound by pain.
By hatred my ode to you, is but a psalm to them all...
All whom can relate...all whom can hate.

Find me, my grace! Lest you hide from my dark passenger,
The horned monkey on my back...
Be it that my words climb and crawl from dark crevices
They come only to be held at bay.
My words howl for action.

Yet my threats are empty until I fulfill them.
It is the although and now that make them into promises.
Come close so I may place one of your thorns in your brittle vein

Reflective Argument

Have you looked into the shattered mirror,
to find the subject of your exasperation?
Accursed hypocrites of the heathen reign,
"Make them suffer for the sins of their ancestors!"
What know you of history's bloody course?
Not a thing, not a damn thing.
Look in the mirror of this worlds memory,
let the record show that which is yours,
the folly, the choking arguments.
Evidence is all you have,
just and yet, the other term, of faith...
Yet again and again,
abased, abashed, by my shear hatred for you all,
Of what do you know in regards to faith?
Not a thing, not a damn thing.
You walk hand in hand with
the blind, deaf & dumb
who

A Shade in the Fog

Gazing onward with the wanting eyes,
in search of nostalgia and reminiscence
is the shell of me.
Repression of thus, my depression,
I recall little to nothing at all.
Find me within the fog of my thought,
Shade of my Lord,
for lost am I,
drowning in the murky waters
of my ever fleeting psyche.

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A Desired Duet

We can find a song
and sing it together.

we can write one
and make it our own.

What time has done
has only tested and healed.

Would we kiss with tears in
our eyes and duet between our hearts?

Constancy conducts a symphony as they sing...
and the song & dance never end.

When it rains it pours, and we dance
and we stumble all the while, smiling.

Beheld in the reflection of our eyes as we become closer than ever,
leaning in for yet another kiss.

What have we to lose, here on in?
Faith places the stepping stones before us.

Our choices are made as one flesh
that works in perfect unity.

The tests can come only from the outside...
n

Child's Play

The plot thickens as the blade sinks
deeper than thought possible.

I was never out of the woods,
I merely saw the sun for a glimpse.

More news to increase
the severity of once old wounds.

Treachery at its finest,
in the form of deceit and child's play.

The hand I had in it
all was slapped on the wrist.

The other hands have returned
to their talents in political theater.

The plot thickens, and apathy finds me the comfort
I once loathed in my thoughts.

313

My eyes have found the bottle,
Half full with a proclaimed solution. Consumption is my body's only need...withdrawal, it's demons kept at bay only by repetitive submission...

The bottle stares back with lifeless, nonexistent eyes...a thousand yard stare only to find me in my own mind, staring at a broken mirror at choices of mere potential...a clap of thunder snaps me from hypnosis.

A sweat grows from the soil of my pours, as my ears pick up the screaming demons drawing closer by the second...insanity is the flare that they so love to follow to my place of solitary self torture.

Closing my eyes only grants those demons the images they wer

Praying Through The Motions

Long before I took aim and notice,
Control seemed to reject me.
Leaving my hands to a dust storm,
Where they would find only cactus and vermin.
Once in sky blue moon, with a hint of cosmos,
An Oasis would find weary eyes.
There would be the particular tale,
Later entitled, "Too Good to be True."

A bitter stumble on my tired and broken feet,
Beneath the shadow of the valley of bad luck,
Where evil was all I ever found.
Where only two hands guided my own...
Here was a crack in the dust bowl,
Where piece of Heaven laid me to bits of rest.
Though I was never wicked, my blood was,
And therefore until drained,
then true rest was to evade my grasp

By Luck and a Loving Eye

Why stop in the place where I know I am only to be devoured?
As dark & cold as this wretched place, I would never accept as my grave.

There is no path on a unpaved road of improvisation. I follow the crumbs of ancient bread, onwards past growling fiends and the eyes of evil.

I bare the marks of one who has found the morbid experiences of existence. Healing is but a formality that I tend to allow, yet not always.

The cycles are made to run their age old courses, with constant and spontaneous tests to accompany my walk to a worthy Shepherd, whose face I am forbidden to see.

Unworthy, the all vigilant eyes that notice the fine print. Yet un

Playing With One's Food

I write these words with tears depleting from my bloodshot eyes, by the dim light of the stars and the moon, upon a piece of paper I managed by luck to find. My efforts have been more than human nature would normally allow, yet the results are not as I predicted, favorable. I've not slept in days, and I now hide from what I pray are mere hallucinations brought about my forced insomnia. I never knew how utterly terrifying this journey would become, nor could I have ever predicted it. To whomever finds this note, chances are that it's far too late for you.

He begins with the sleep, and uses that as a means to make you more of the likes o

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Submitted: November 30, 2012
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Still Waters Beyond the Storm

by ~GrubbsWriting, Nov 30, 2012, 8:12:44 PM
Literature / Poetry / Spiritual / Traditional Fixed Forms

It is above and beyond
the realm where soar the children
of my ever undying Lord.

My mind is forever enraptured
by the very thoughts...
the concepts that are so limitless.

God what glory is to be beheld!
Lead me by still waters my Lord,
Beyond the storms of this wretched world.

Pray I that my intrigue
is never felt as a thorn in Heaven's walls,
as my only wish bring true wisdom home.

Thou art my God,
ascended and surrounding,
forever the greatest of praise goes to you.

From my lips come prayer,
From my hands comes worship,
From my heart comes faith.

Channel my voice through, O'abounding angels!
Though my thoughts often plague me,
I make attempts to please you all that I can.

As it was once said,
"I shall fear no storm,
for I am learning to sail my ship!"

Still Waters Beyond the Stormby ~GrubbsWriting

Literature / Poetry / Spiritual / Traditional Fixed Forms

I give our God great praise for all he has done, and plans to do. I wish to at least attempt to live in his favor, so that he smiles upon me. For although, I do not deserve an once of grace, I receive it through acceptance...just as he accepts my very existence.

The final quote is from the Greek tragedian Aeschylus.

Picture Citation: [link]