Metaphor

Pocket text from random hero;
you read with nominal apathy.
Regretting the jealous quota; reveal the prodigy universal.
Talent tied ties betwixt twinging smiles;
feed the hungry ego.

Wrap the rotten Salami saving self suicide for unique.
Love,
Respect secretly,
Sound the silly alarm.
Life universal.

Breaking The Mold

The end of the nightmare is just ahead
no one sees it until they're dead
waking and sleeping, life's but a dream
rowing a crooked boat down emaciated streams.
One day we'll find the ocean, call it heaven
and see the grass finally green.

Life beckons the question, "why do we row?"
To accrue wealth? to find bliss? we all reap what we sow.
At the top or bottom, life's an ebb and a flow-
and it's deemed the journey not a destination we can know-
Our mortal shell welcomes us to dream what we know.

So who is the paladin who dreams of "larger things?"
Only god in his ocean pulls the multitude strings-
or fate takes the turn we were destined to swing
Forever by fate or god do we claim to know these things.
trapped by predestination our own natures we bring
to imprison us to our first choices I am therefore I think.

Magna Cum Laude

Voracious vivacious bean sprouts spoil the succulence of sans sobriety.
Suckling the sweet teet of tempered toil.
Studying and swearing success is hard work
while denying that hard work isn't.
Daft is the dolt who deems themselves
dote-worthy
denying the decadence of living the dream.
Crappy collegiate conscious creates cognizant
beneficent
bourgeoisie.

stream of subconsciousness

Like the lonely dog at midnight
who remembers his master's passing
or the insanity brought by hunger
in the people always fasting.

Striving for the retribution for living all these years
and contemptuous of monotony, the greatest of my fears.
I pine for evanescence of my freedom to enjoy my life
and the hours pass that turn to years pining without my wife.

Oh if I could rewind the clock and gain the freedom of today,
I'd spend twelve lives in prison to fix this wounded way
but alas I exist in shallows of my callow, wounded way.

My Response...

You are my angel, your voice is a light-
My darkness is without you, you're always on my mind.
I consider myself lucky to have you around-
I was lost till I had you and now I am found.

I love you and I'll love you throughout all pain and all strife.
I'm a man whose gained higher purpose now that you'll be my wife-
and my life.

Wishing You Here

By Jacqueline Tyree

Stuck in a daze that goes on for weeks,
I think of your face and my heart starts to weep.
The warmth of your embrace, I wish always to keep-
But you are called away and I can't fall asleep.

Wishing you would call I lay here in bed-
With nothing but silence coursing through my head.
Nothing seems right when you are away-
The darkness creeps closer. How I wish you could stay.

As soon as you wake I know my mind will be at ease- 
You'll pick up your phone and we'll shoot the breeze.
Your love I will feel through your sweet voice-
This inescapable distance wasn't our choice.

The distance they say will only make us strong-
I believe what they say but to me it feels so wrong.
I love you. I miss you. I wish you were here.
My baby.
My darling.
My soul mate.
My dear.

Full Moon Feelings

The moon is full, my heart is pounding
The devil in me stirs
The animal instinct like drums is sounding
My loins are aching for her.

My love is far away tonight
I'm almost glad for her sake
For I am a demon full of fire
And ready to impale her on my stake.

Oh darling does your body ache
For me to fuck it raw?
Do all your demons, at the moon, awake?
"Oh daddy, yes!" Do you wish to call?

I smell your stink of sex in me
Like some awakening dream
My sword stands ready for your embrace
My ears perk for your screams.

Have you had me on these nights when the moon is full, and your body's my toy?
The way I want to ream you's a fright,
I am your naughty, vicious devil boy.

An angel when we walk the light
But not so when we're alone
I'll be the thief to plunder you
Deep inside you is my home.

Home is when I am with you
And most days I'd be sweet
But tonight, I'd make you my dirty whore
And fuck you till you sleep.

At Attention

I look around the West End room and see the stupid sensations
Daisy Dukes and Yoga pants, leave none to the imagination.
If you wanted some attention to compensate lack of parental jubilation-
hold strong and keep them guessing for repeated standing ovations-
In more than one way decency breeds a better standing ovation.

Coming to be

When I felt the wind blowing I knew there'd be change;
Looking out on parking lots deserted and maimed-
I saw into futures I did not know foretold:
That soon I'd be bathing in your light heart of gold.

We missed our chance of meeting a few times already
But forever is a long time and destiny is steady
As I waited a week and we met at the bar
And I saw in you the answered prayer that I'd wished on a star.

When I wasn't big enough to lift heavy things
I'd dreamed of a soul who'd meld with mine like a spring
Into a river that flowed to our ocean of love
And as wide as it is we infinately explore eachother, my dove.

In sex, in commitment, in raising our future,
I cannot see an end to the adventure we'll lead-
Our wounds of time apart we will learn how to suture
And on love alone we can learn how to feed-
Building our individual partnership with want over need.

"I love you" is the only way to describe how I feel
Because our love is unexplainable
Our love
Is real.

The Long Road Home

When I was little I thought love was romance:
A riverside walk with sweet smells in the air-
two people who knew the world but didn't even care-
two people who only knew that the other was there.

When I got older I thought it was commitment:
A deep devotion to an ideal without question-
suffering while suffering was my predilection-
breaking down life into problem/solution section by section.

Then later a boy scorned thought love was seclusion:
To put forth effort had born sour fruit-
love was just head games and sex, that's the truth!
And it seemed that we were all just shadows abused.

Oh love in my present I cannot determine:
Sometimes I feel romance and sometimes like vermin.
Always I'm committed but I can't always heal my world-
All I know is I live, in the eyes of this beautiful girl-

I sweat to think she might feel the same way as me
I want for her joy so much sometimes I can't breath
I must be aloof to capture her fascination but still
inside my heart there's a welling jubilation-

That I should hide much more because I feel it might bore
her need for something different that she might not abhor.
What winded breaths I have taken feeling Jackie's sensation-
I wish for happiness and for joy but each has limited duration-

Sometimes. I feel like crying and others like dying-
but I digress. Let me get to the point that I've been trying
to say all along which is that love can't be explained.
Like god looked into my soul and had me arraigned.

All of a sudden I saw my world in her eyes
and my child in her womb and I couldn't tell her lies.
Which would have been easier.
God knows to tell the truth she'll see my heart-
And heaven's never known me since lying was my art.

Love for you's a desert, yet it's filled with infinite parts
Characters to play and puzzle pieces to an exploded heart.
separations to my vices and devotion to you.
my piece of the world and that's the best I can construe.

I've told you what my love is and how I came to it's conclusion
and as you see it's still a mystery, like amnesia memories from contusions.
none of it's an illusion, though, I feel the love for you
I'm your special cup of coffee from our own beans that we brew

Before you I was blind and could not count on my senses
I felt the world would harm me and I had up full defenses
I love you though, and in the darkness, I finally can see
that one thing I know for sure: The words, "I love Jacqueline Suzanne Tyree."

Ghost Town

Walking streets I've known before
I see the patterns I've adored
Reliving moments in a ghost town for me
The memories around me I cannot look away, I see!

My heart thinks only of you once here
And pines for you, no longer near
So I might hold you once again
Taste the sweet necter of my lover and friend-

How do I still, burdened, live alone?
When you are my future, you are my home.
An alien to this foreign world
Away from my child and my girl.

Alas I walk still barren and empty
Without that feeling of good and pleanty
You told me this was but a moment in our lives
But I'd give it up to be with you tonight.

Why?

The way your teeth stick out when you smile,
the way your eyes sparkle when you experience joy;
the way I can feel your heart beating from miles away,
the way I care so much to think of your heart every day-
The way I find myself doing things that exhaust me in hopes of making a better life for us as opposed to me or you-
all of this is what I love and why my life is true to you.
When I sleep and wake with the pillow in my arms,
I know I've seen you in my dreams.
Our lives will be a thousand sweaters my knitting queen,
we're currently only making seams.
I once begged God for my life to be perfect
and he gave me you, my wildest dream.

What's important

With all my heart and all my soul:
to love you paramount, is my goal.
Seek a fortune and a fortune you'll hold
but you, darling are worth more than gold.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I'll say
for the rest of our lives, every day.
to gain my darling's heart in tow;
where ever you are, I too will always go.

So carry with you strength and might
for I will love you: everywhere, every day,
all day and every night-
for the rest of my life.

Pep talk

Trapped in a quandary of eating hearts like Lecter
my egos so large you'd have to use a projector.
I looked into her eyes and I was genuine
but hurt dogs hide in corners and she's a lot more than just fine. In time
we'll trust each other and learn to love a new
but for now we can take solace in the absolute truth.
In the tension of the night,
we both sting with our might,
I can't stand the pain, why do we ever fight?
We'll figure it out we'll find something to do,
just take refuge in the words I mean
I and love and you.

Mine and Yours

How come I can't get out of here? Why can I not evade this place? What dreams are unrealistic in this very realistic place? There was a time I might have seen my misery meandering with monotonous momentum. Mortem pre vivum vindicated via visions of vivacious vixens vexed with the villainy of whether she should love me or screw me. Oh if I could prattle on about the punctilious pusillanimousness of people and myself; messed up in a Mesozoic man motif. Mother, if I could only see your marvelous mirage, I would willingly wake to wondrous wiles and wild will. However, I'm asleep right now because I definitely am not texting you 5000 miles above Blacksburg...

The dark angel dawns direct decedent of delirium daft and depressing deemed the dolt for a reason neither rhyme nor rhythm could change the season in his eyes, they were blue like the frosted clouds of winter. Warm in no ways besides a forgotten wonder meandering sidewalks sweetly sipping the sweet slits in the walls that warmly greeted such a wavering wanderer till beauty bountifully blossomed from his breast no more. Perhaps the belly of the beast will bear browned apples or perhaps beaming petals will break the barriers of time and space its self. Who knows but your bubbly bent brick of a boy prays only to find some peace. Vexed at night with vicious visions of violent cacophony creasing the crest of my neck and causing my canines to collide, may I survive?

Continuous quantum interference quarterly quantifies to infinity. Querulous quandaries qualify as quaint annoyances. Questioning quark theory and quasar physics is not in my inquisitive nature but making medical mystery is mind blowing magic that mystifies my quintessence.

Analytical astrological allegories are allied with alienating abstinence. Obliterating oligarchies own their ornery princes to peons. Piety perpetuating papal impunity plodding on and on despite the dithering disaster that lasts a moment in momentous ever afters.

Hopeful, honorary gods give gifts in genuine egregiousness. Good generally guarantees a certain level of lurid lucidity. Lounging about leaves little left for latent lives. Waking to weary wonders weaving a web of whiny whimpering due to Hollywood harlots and their honey pots; heaving a hardness into the once honorable past, present and predestined historians.