Tag: good fiction

  • Puppet on the Devil’s Strings

    On the outside

    You’re painted white

    To hide your imperfections

    You hide it well

    But time will tell

    The luster of your lessons

     

    Though I may see

    It’s not just me

    Others have found you out

    While darkness falls

    Light still crawls

    Time to scan your amount

     

    Pain and suffering mark this world

    But don’t give in an ounce

    Trials and adversity fill this world

    Fail, and the devil may pounce

     

    Angels glide upon their wings

    Demons fly with use of springs

    Razor sharp, words can sting

    Your worldly favor, most will cling

    Let go the distraction, reaction brings

    If not…

    You remain a puppet on the devil’s strings

  • Perfect for Me

    Who is the girl for me?

    What will she be like?

    Something unimaginable I suppose

    For I have no idea what to see

     

    I picture a bride,

    Who deep down inside

    Wants to cut me to pieces!

    Adrenaline rushes,

    I must defend.

    In the end,

    We tame each other of those wild habits.

     

    Yes she shall be wild, but calm

    Steady; unalarmed,

    Thinking always, like me.

    She will be outspoken and funny

    And never a dumby

     

    In my place, she shall put me,

    But don’t think for a minute

    I will not fight back.

    It shall be fun.

    We’ll dance a dance of clever dispute

    Before we fall back into each other.

     

    I hope that she loves God more

    Than she loves me

    Cause that is the direction I’m going

    If she flows like myself

    And grows like myself

    There’s no telling what blessing shall fall on our home.

     

    There is more that I want

    But that’s just absurd

    No one is perfect

    Not even one

    So I fall to the Lord,

    And this is my plea,

    “Please send me my someone

    Who is perfect for me.”

  • Best Friends

    You, who know me best

    The jokes we share together.

    We are separate on occasion,

    But you know me best

     

    Why is it we connect?

    Are we twins of different births

    and mothers?

    Could such a thing happen?

    Let alone exist?

     

    We exist,

    That is enough for suggestion.

    Calming effects occur when you’re present

    I can let go of myself, like a vodka and sprite

     

    Spirits rise, with a gift from the spirits

    So ours does with the gift God gave us

    And again we plummet into maddening talk

    Of how the future will be ours when it’s time

     

    We are undefined, you and I

    Yet we know what we mean:

    Sublime Catastrophe!

    That’s what we are.

     

    Devastating Bliss!

    That’s what we provoke.

    Paper covered floatation device!

    We can be just as ridiculous.

     

    Maggot covered corpse!

    We disgust each other just as much.

     

    But in the end,

    It’s been decided.

    I’ve got your back,

    And you’ve got mine.

     

    All of you,

    you know who you are,

    Are very special to me. 

  • Essence of Madness

    Sitting here, on a severed tree,

    The essence of madness awakes in me.

    I see the door to oblivion,

    And I grab the knob and turn the key.

     

    Beyond the gate, I followed through,

    I saw the faces of those I knew,

    But they are not from the world I came,

    They only exist in my brain.

     

    They sat with me and talked awhile.

    But all we did was vibe and smile.

    Their minds were slack, as if they were rolling.

    And as I listened I felt I was folding.

     

    I talked with two in particular.

    They were more fun and friendlier.

    We shouted loud for those to hear it.

    And ran down the hills with my animal spirit.

     

    I was mad indeed;

    Truly insane.

    Popping pills,

    Feeling no pain.

    Some of them colored,

    Some of them plain.

    How many more

    Will it take to get sane?

     

    Have you ever wondered how far you could go

    That even spirit foxes would choose not to follow?

    Three tails and antlers, large in size;

    Rode on his back till he left my side.

     

    We ran through my mind for hours listening

    To the bass thumping loudly from oblivion.

    But somewhere I lost contact with the fox that I rode,

    And I ended up digging in soil below.

     

    Amusing musings of captured dissidence

    Between those before and those soon after.

    Like falling stars, the images faded

    As if falling closer to where we are.

     

    And as I dug, to keep exploring

    I could not help my mind imploring

    A question that seemed funnier when on Druggy high and lows

    To paraphrase a line of intrigue,

    Do you want to see how far the Fox-hole goes?

  • Who Am I to You?

    Who am I to you that I matter so much?

    I understand that my presence 

    does not provide much trust.

    I hear you speak of me,

    And not in good fashion.

    If my presence is that detestable,

    Why act like a chameleon?

     

    Who am I to you that you act so differently?

    It is kind words that blossom from your lips

    When I am there. 

    Though none pass through on my behave

    When I am gone.

     

    I can not say that I am not like you.

    We share a trait.

    Our colors change in our environment,

    Just like a chameleon.

     

    I can be sweet and blissful,

    Sorrowful and depressed.

    I can spin a web of colorful language,

    To others all in jest.

    But know this, dear fellow,

    Though my words are often harsh,

    I am meaning to fix that little flaw

    and begin a new start.

     

    So who am I to you

    that makes you miss me?

    I am like you

    I talk like a thief

    I must be nobody’s friend

    but mine.

     

    Who am I to you

    to make you act like me too?

    I am nothing special,

    especially to you.

     

    Maybe it is time we learned

    to respect one another,

    And not indulge in idle talk

    damaging each other,

    when we think the other,

    does not hear it.