[x]

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

Priority Road

My dreams, no matter how vivid,
Dissipate as that second arrives,
That my eyes are opened.

At my wake, do dreams die,
Die and bury themselves,
Beneath the goals they form.

No control is had over me,
Merely influence is it,
That encompasses my soul.

And there at the muddy,
bloody feet beneath my aching legs,
Is the starting line of efforts drawn.

Here is where the beginning is that
which leads never to an end,
as my soul, in all its toils, shall ever be loyal.

What is faith, aside from assuming,
Presuming my future and fate
are unpredictable to say the least.

Lead on, by the dashed line in my road.
Though my wake is where dreams d

Free Spirit Fail Safe

Unhinged, the floodgates collapse
The waters weighed so heavily on them that in the dark of night
do they unwillingly liberate the transparent stillborn
unto the dry soil once adjacent to the gates.

Two clocks tick, their gears turning at the uneven tempo
Unwound, rusting to a screeching halt on the command of the flood.
Time stops at the hinder, And neutrality dies on impact.

What a sight as I close my eyes,

Late at night when energy dies.

Taken to flight my psyche then flies.

Do as one might, the cold sweat brings about my cries.

Fighting my fight, in where my imagination lies

The withered flowers ashen and in bloom

Be my soul

Dreams on a Battlefield

Oh sweet sleep, take me away...
Away to the restless worlds
Of my subconscious wonderland.
Unhand me, reality...
let go and set me free.

From soul to psyche,
the visitation of my thoughts
To my warped imagination.
Where both angel and daemon,
Do visit me in my nightly coma

My memory fades from my grasp
with the cold sweat and opening of my eyes,
but I do know better as to the cause by effect.
my visitors wage war
within those restless lands.

As they are and have always been,
By dream or nightmare regardless am I
without doubt in the slightest,
intrigued by such evidence
and presence of the transcendent ones.

I know not the faces but

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.

Made of What We Are.

Endlessly in the end,
shall I let flow the passion.
Our own, the love undying
to the very cadence of Heaven's joy.

This paradise discovered,
that when my heart speaks of you,
with a burning passion,
that right away I write away.

Thank you God, for Anael's gift...
This now love from afar,
to this portrait of perfection
That to I shall return....

To this, my angelic fire,
I am bound forevermore,
by unbreakable vows
to that true sense of belonging...

For this living gift,
Shall I be home in a heartbeat,
to fulfill that elated kiss,
To glorify her in full.

Seasonal SweetheartsOn soft scented grass we laid
upon a late sunset's alcove.
As we lay bloated with new born hope
taken from those sweet spring wishes.

In summers height
underneath your advances.
You kissed such fragile areas,
as I blushed relucent sparks.

On one knee I met you in autumn,
our faces flushed with euphoric spunk.
Leaf patterns fell at our feet,
fading blossom of summer.

The hearth bilged fire,
sweeping cold joints away.
And we could only keep looking,
to happier times.

WeirdThe alarm clock tells you loud and clear
It's time to get your act together, dear
So force yourself to get out of bed
Forget what all those people said

Now's the time to change your routine
Of spending all day with the laptop screen
It's time to dress up like you used to
It's time to be the brand new you

So wipe all those silly tears away
Because we're living for today
The past is long gone, it's time for change
So dress how you want, no matter how strange

And wear whatever makeup you want
You're brave enough to do what the haters can't
As long as it makes you feel good about yourself
Then what is it to do with anyone else?

Sh

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.

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

The Subconscious Strive

Challenge this opposition before you,
as the very Kingdom of Heaven is at your back.
What know you of the sight of victory,
should you not even attempt to seek it out?

Pull your head out and swallow the sand.
kick up the dust beneath the liquid layer,
swim against the tide, ascend and ride the wind,
Journey only forward, beyond the grasp of defeat.

Take us beyond the firefight,
to the brittle outskirts,
upon the horizon,
where lies our origin.

Within memory is our future,
where made easy
is the heavier weight of the burden.
Plant the seeds for the new battlefield.

Make it our own, by conquer, by incline.
Push forward through the storm,
th

Recreating Eden

And what if for you I built a garden?
In there where we would know a private freedom,
The priceless peace without end,
And a patch of Heaven to cover the bruises of time.

There you would find all your dreams of us,
And then more to add as we go along,
Skimming carelessly over the grass…
Free without shame, hand in hand in love.

And what if I grew for you the flowers of all your favorite colors?
Blossomed and alive, their scent filling the air…
I would create a beating heart in its center,
A pond of warm stone, and a fountain to give it life.

I would lay with you in a hammock beneath the shade,
holding close the love that is my ow

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

The Wishing Well

The blank stare of my eyes
Gazed deep into and far,
a seductive wishing well.

Prolific to say this the least,
The weapons of choice
and words of persuasion.

They came up from the pit,
Finding my pathetic gaze,
Tempting by sweet songs.

I found my feet standing in a dusty lake,
the cold waves striking in tempo,
to and fro...back and forth...

In brief intervals were my feet
devoured by the ashy waters of
a dusty lake in a land unknown to me.

At the horizon I found a gray sun,
behind the smoke stacks,
where screams echoed like in a well.

A well for wishing for better well being,
so typical, for I, the wishful thinker,
to meet this

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Marching AnarchyA demon am i to you, i lie hidden under your bed

as you pray that i am not there, though i am

Oh how i love those useless prayers

Music to my prideful ears

As laughter builds within my belly

Running is pointless, for my voice is inevitable

Take heed that i could lay you out to burn

To decay, and be lost forever with my very breath

I am the voice in the back of your head

The one that moves your constantly sinning hands

Though you cannot stand my touch

You so love where it leads you

I am a roaring whisper

heard by all, seen by none

All that is witness is the despair i leave

in my chaotic path,

for i am the bloodshed of war

I am

Sparrows and HawksA hawk may soar, it's wings wide, it's chest broad, It's eyes keen & vigil

As he finds his rightful place in the skies above.

Yet so does the bright star of day, The home of Apollo

That may blind all creatures, that venture towards it's path.

And He may return to his nest only to find,

That the leaves have fallen from the branches;

Leaving him exposed,leaving the bird of prey

to fly as a sparrow.

As the star had burnt his splendor down to fraction of mere feathers.

And so our hawk wanders in blinded flight.

His forbidden curiosity has left him distraught, exiled from his paradise.

He is now left in a flight as if to be under stormy

As a Siren sleepsA blade is meant only for flesh and to draw blood

Just as bullets are purposed for stopping pulses

But as a Siren sleeps, they are mere luxury

Yet a paranoid sleep keeps these beasts in

The slightest of sleeps as if to sleep with an eye open

Only to leave thieves & murderers blind & deaf, betrayed

They are there to remind you of your sin

Of the hands that you never tied down

The eye you never blind-folded

that tongue you never held

They lie as reminders of your own failed

experiments, a fallen colossus of arrogance

Only after you tie yourself down

Will you know the desire of those damned sirens

Only after you deprive yourself of

On the Waters we bled inShould you feel pain, it is a worthy pain

Should you feel fear, it is just the same

Your honor lies in his hands

while Your Will lies in your own

Keep your faith, or keep your burdens.

Walk with him or walk with shame.

In the sands we died in

On the Waters we bled in

In a Chaotic Sea, we are of stone

Just as we are in the Desert

Temptations are not but illusions

Like the Mirages of the Sand!

Within myths, We are of legend!

Within the epics, we are the Heroes!

Our plight is that of a never ending war

A war against what is of Horns & Flame

Keep your faith, or keep your burdens.

Walk with him or walk with shame.

At SeaThis man treads within dark waters

For his words are his wisdom, His actions are his humor

He is not two faced, nor is he the jack of all trades

Yet he is lost at sea, without a map or an oar

He follows the clouds, He follows the sun

Yet he cannot find a straight path, for he is at Sea

Below him, lie the ships of his predecessors

Their bones, their treasures, their ambition

But our sailor stops for nothing, against his will

For he is without an anchor, at sea

Time passes just as the water does, oh so slowly

His spirit does not dwindle though,

as the dark waters hold a bleak hope

Fore if so many failed to reach this one goal

Then

What comes for my murderer?Here i stand, upon where i shall soon lie

Above my own bed of the world here after

I could scream or panic, but it does me little

Before that trigger is pulled by your malevolent finger

and explain to me,

why i should have ever change my ways for you?

i refuse to abide by every last law of society.

I was not put on God's green Earth to please you.

Nor am i here as your slave, or servant

Yet still the barrel of your weapon points at my head

Yet still is your Malevolent finger upon that cold trigger

Yet i am still the victor, for you will have won nothing

This execution is as meaningless as our differences

Should i die before i wak

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The Changing Tide

by ~GrubbsWriting, Jan 3, 2013, 11:27:47 AM
Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

The era is now passed through which I lived and favored,
and my patience then packs its bags for hiatus,
with which to remind me that perhaps
brighter days lie in sunny hammocks ahead.

Here and alas lays the road to that sunny setting,
upon which I walk and tread the changing tide.
The next item on the list of Fates agenda and her passionate affair with time...
the seconds will carry on like the beats of my undying heart.

The fire that burns in my eyes, through which I see is only assuaged
by the tears they produce...
the tears I produce in my longing for some peace of some sort.
Yet those tears shall only accompany the sweat of my efforts.

Once upon a time, in the dream come true through which I slept,
did a fairy tale once exist…
that tale of my tale through endless times of a dream come true
and gone by in the era that I once lived and favored.

The Changing Tideby ~GrubbsWriting

Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

I do NOT own the picture, this is the creator: [link]

I am only the writer of the words. This happens to be my 300th poem and I pray that you all enjoy it. It is a narrative of an immortal being who laments of the passing time. This threnody of inevitability is meant to provoke the thought of the reader in regards to time and existence, and how one is ultimately affected by the world around them. Think of your generation, your era, and what memories will later be recalled of the time in which you lived. Think of the future and all of its endless possibilities, both good and bad. Lose yourself in thought...it is a wonderfully terrifying feeling, is it not?

love 1 1

joy 5 5

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Lilithmae1231 Jan 6, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I don't think I can put to words how much I love this. Well, I could try; but it wouldn't feel right.

~GrubbsWriting Jan 6, 2013 Professional Writer

I feel the same way about girlfriend at times haha

~Lilithmae1231 Jan 6, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

She sounds like a lucky girl!

Much as I love writing, some things shouldn't be described with words.

~HappyHoshi Jan 3, 2013

The last stanza is wonderful. I love it. It almost seems like it should be the 1st stanza, but at the same time I think I see your purpose in placing it last.
Regardless, this is a very well written poem. Good job.

~foreverforwards Jan 3, 2013

This is Great! I definitely felt the "lament of the passing time".
Incredible writing. well done

~GrubbsWriting Jan 3, 2013 Professional Writer

Thank you so much!

~foreverforwards Jan 4, 2013

you're welcome I really liked the way you portrayed everything. and teh picture was brilliantly chosen

~WhisperingWatermelon Jan 3, 2013

Very pretty and whimsical!

~GrubbsWriting Jan 3, 2013 Professional Writer

Thanks!

~Dany1908 Jan 3, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

300 poem impressive i'm behind with like 80 poem ah ..>.>

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