I'm actually into this as a major passtime. As a passtime i do not claim mastery of it...but i have to much stuff for a message board so go to my website and look around the poems section.

http://bloodandshadow.tripod.com


As I said this is mostly a passtime and a way to vent everything. Most of it is really kinda screwed up but the art is supposed to refelct the artist and the life they lead. Don't judge...just read.

Since the website idea may get little response i'll post some of my better stuff.






Angel's Postponed Requiem
(For Jean)

I return, once again
To my perpetually cold
Forever empty bed.
Not forever has this been.
No, not forever so.
Many is the body
That has graced it.
All types have found me.
I remember all:
The beauties with skin
White as virgin snow
Yet fouled still, sadly;
The wretches, reeking
Of treachery's vile taint,
Yet strangely comforting
As I know I so reek
With deceptions foul face;
The average girls,
Out for their fling,
Picking up their guy
To use for one night
Then leave like trash.
Last of all, I remember,
In pure untainted memory,
The angel, pure as dawn,
Yet not, for she was real,
To real for true purity
And it would soil her memory
To speak untruths on her
Who is now in earth.
That angel was beauty to me
For she was no perfect
But in her was will
To be what she was.
Her eyes worked magics
Beyond imagination's realm
That held me enraptured
By sufferings works.
Those eyes held volumes
Speaking of battles
With her very mind.
Her eyes showed me hope
For love after plight
And life after death of mind,
Not death of spirit.
Now has this angel fallen
And blame lies on me.
I loved her more dearly
And now bear the shame
Of letting her die.
Along with her
Fled my heaven on earth
For peace shall not find me
In my earned hells berth.





---and no...death is not a metaphor.

A Ring

There is a ring,
a broken band
holding more meaning
than yet is known.
This band of silver
was forged for me
and quenched, when
still white and glowing
upon the cruel forge,
quenched in my blood
fresh from opened veins.
This ring is me,
a symbol of faith
in god, righteous,
but symbol still
of utter hatred
of their religion.
This thing is broken
as is my oath
pledged in blood,
for I shall not serve
that which asks me
to blindly abandon
life's gentle embrace
when they reveal not
even the workings
of mine own beliefs
to their future martyrs.
This ring is my death
to them,
as it was my life
to them.
I keep it for spite
and keep it for malice
of organization
where all that is needed
is faith.

Of the Window

The myriad of colors
Plays joyfully on your skin.
It traces the curves that,
By design, lure me,
Lure me to you,
And I have fallen
From that holy perch
From which I raged
Against passion
For I gave in for you.
I have slipped from
The moral highground
All for you, this
Entrancing creature.
Carefully, I rise
Not disturbing you
In your peaceful slumber.
I open the door,
With all intent
Of forever departure,
Yet I look back once
To where you lay,
Naked as birth
On your soft bed.
Over the distance
Passes but one utterance
From my mouth to
Your sleep-veiled ears:
"I wish I knew your name."

The Snows of Hell

There is no haven from bitter winter
for we let our guard slip from mind
and left ourselves worse than blind.
From here our love began to splinter
and threw its pieces to farflung places
but though we tried our time had passed
and left me with many memories amassed
such as your body, gentle as fine laces
and a smile warming the snows of hell
for there was where you abandoned me
as you fled what you thought me to be.
Now I bear a hatred beyond ability to quell.
-----Take truth from this love dead rhyme:
-----When given choice drop love for time.

Angel�s Wretch

I know not what you see in me.
Perhaps I still glimmer of humanity,
But your affection nonetheless,
Has reached inside the tangled mess
That is my heart and made it sing
With its long forgotten joyous ring.
---
With you flies my heart upon our parting
And follows with vigor beyond halting.
Tis you I need for life's rough quest
Though I doubt your choice is best
For I am life's long gone castaway.
You needn't think on me these days
But leave me for the trash I am
And find a man who can break the dam
and show you life's luminous dance
For in you has been shown utter radiance;
The potential heaven that graces earth
And for short while gives tender berth
To this heart in which is found by you
Some affection faint as morning dew.
Wretches tread not with such angels here
Nor in heaven which I now near
But tread fair soil, made fairer still
For you who has no flaw within thy will.
---
Let me show you how to live
And let you show me how to give.
We suit each other like a fine glove
Now let there soon exist, say, love?

Mr. Frost:
A Dedication of Hope

I feel quite sorry
For our dear Robert Frost
Whose poems are brilliance
Sadly misunderstood
With roads diverging
In yellow woods
And making difference;
With good fences
making neighbors good,
Lines uttered by
his pine-shaded neighbor.
People miss the points
Of beauty in words.
The telling is that
Of which difference
Is born, not the taking
Of roads less traveled
Yet decried many times
As equal in �leaves
No step had trodden black.�
Fences make few good neighbors
Since the pine-shaded neighbor
Whose rote tired utterance
that famous line is
Is hailed by our bard
Of New England fair
As �walking in darkness
Not of trees alone.�
Society repeats these beautiful
Words as true catechism
Yet here they are muttered
By a small minded fool
Whose thoughts are closed
And whose heart is shut.
I hope this work makes
Some small or great step
Towards righting the wrongs
Against poor Robert Frost
Whose work is misread
Or warped as it seems
To mean what is not
Nor ever twas intent.
I write this for him
For if I become
A writer whose work
Is remembered like his
I would wish the fair people
To read its true message
Not fail so to hear
My truths born of words.

For the Women
I write this poem for all the women that have had a major impact upon who I am today. In order I dedicate these verses to Elizabeth Doherty, Caroline Allgood, Jean York, Sabrina Hash, Rebecca Gant, Sarine Navisara.

For my first love of all, the tall blonde youth
who gave me the acid burn of treachery�s taste.
For the whore and slut of born of waste
who gave me scars never again to heal smooth.
For the troubled eyes of her, fifteen years, a child
who died for naught but the idiocy of vanity.
For the beauty who anchored my dying sanity
come from a torn yet honest, caring, and mild.
For the naive strumpet who I used for my pleasure
and deceived by my lies of true undying fidelity.
For the girl saved but none but the grace of divinity
whose rejection gave me pain beyond all measure.
-----It is they who shape my existence.
-----They allow �me� to be present tense.

What it�s like to fail Suicide

A trickle of red
From my arm
To the tile
My blood
Painting the walls
Another scar
Another lie
Another kiss
What life to live
Where none should
All running out
All over my chest
Over my legs
Onto the floor
To join the rest
My life seeps
From me
To the ground
The door opens
Sloshing my red
A scream
A cloth
My life�s water
Stops streaming
And I live once more

Loves Squall

Witness the ship,
At rest in its harbor.
At peace in its calm.
Blind, for doom
Comes at you
When you are unawares.
On the deck is one, alone,
Facing wrongly to the fore,
While oblivion settles aft.
Blind in peace.
The anchor holds his ship,
Holds it safe to harbor,
But his anchor drifts.
His mind knows,
But his heart denies.
The squall bears down,
And as he drifts,
I raise the alarm.
He knows the danger,
Yet his course is set.
He must bear through,
Must survive loves squall,
And I, at journeys end,
Shall greet him,
And mend his ship,
Provide new anchor,
So he may again,
Fill his sails,
With the wind of life.

Crying Softly

Spinning softly worlds collide
As I see loving tender eyes
So wrought with pain and deep despair
Shining behind her silk brown hair.
Small chance of smile from her lips.
More often seen is frown's cruel dips
Yet in this moment bright as dawn
I see chance for love long gone
And take a quest to set her free
And make that smile mine to see.
Success found home amid my task
And in that smile did I bask.
Long happiness did grace us both
And on her soul swore I love's oath.
Bliss had found my heart in truth
And in me did deep anger sooth
Yet lasting was not for this dream
And darkness swallowed up our scene
As death hung pale upon her cheek
And left was I with psyche meek.
Now found am I upon this bed
Crying softly where lay her head.

Crash and Burn Psyche

As dawn melts night
My words spin smoothly
Mixing hatred even yet
With seeds of dread
With drops of hope
With shards of love
And piecing my psyche
From a jumbled hell
Of twist and turn
Of crash and burn
With overflow emotions
And song dead dreams

Rock and Stone

These hands encirled many waists.
From only one did pleasure taste,
But from that one came true bliss
That lit the heavens with our kiss.
Love left little not bespelled
And in wonder our hearts dwelled.
Invasion of our sacred place
Left me with an empty space
Where her body filled the gap
Til death, on her door, did rap.
Now I envy mother earth
For to my love does she give bearth
And wish I to be rock and stone
To embrace her mortal bone.
Gone is she and gone am I
For with her sould my heart did fly.
Leave me now to mourn my love
Until we meet in great above.

Garbed in black
This angel walks in halls
Empty for eternity.
She fills the rift
From whence was torn
From me, my love.
Drawing softly upon song
She dances twilight
Upon dead lust
And fills the vessel
Of soul and heart
With warmth and love
To start anew
And tempt the world
With deep embrace.
Finished with her task
Retires she to realms
Hidden from mortal view
And watches, silent,
As I walk softly
Out her lonley halls