Friday, 13 December 2013

The power of words

The pen is mightier than the sword
Such a simple way of saying that words have power.
More power than we know.
That's why fools should remain silent in matters they know not of.
Nor should they talk before consulting that unused mind they harbor.
Not a simple 5 minute thought.
Think hard before you speak. Hours, days, weeks, months if needs be.
Because those who are foolish tend to gather others to their side.
And an army of idiotic dogs barking the same crap can never be good.

The world itself is governed by power.
Words play a huge role in obtaining this.
From the leaders of a nation, rallying his/her followers,
To a father earning the respect of his own son.
But those who would speak empty words are the ones who cause problems
War, corruption, revenge or just to prove a point... Lies all the same.
They are not worthy of the power and should remain silent.
A power driven ox will trample all others to make himself comfortable.

Then there are those who would dance to the tune of any song they enjoy.
Songs about how to live become their scripture.
As if the idea of life had changed and only recently it became known that we live once.
But they take it to extremes, thinking their one life means it doesn't matter.
Or those who take lyrical content to be their war banner,
Killing each other for singers who don't even know they exist.
Nor do they care... they're in it for the money while the fools listen for the blood.
Like fruit flies... wasting their already short existence for the wrong reasons.

The words we say, hear, think and live by...
The music we listen, sing, quote...
From a child's first "mama" to a man's final words.
All of them have power
The sword that rends flesh grows dull
But the words of our world...
Those are the true weapons

Tuesday, 23 April 2013

Letter to my future wife - Poem


Whoever you are, that is if you are real.
A woman who will be able to restore my heart and heal
All the unseen scars and emotional turmoil I've endured
And to be my shield, my purpose and my sword.
Good luck to you though. You'll have to put up with me for the rest of your life
Or at least I hope so cause I hope you will be my only wife

Shit though. I hope we haven't already met
The man I am now is not the first impression I'd want  to set
I'm sure your an amazing lady and sweeter than I can currently describe
But You must be something else for me to decide.
To get married... Oh wow I'm married. I hope I don't cause much trouble.
I hope we'll be an eternally happy couple.

Oh my. Now I'm feeling an unusual bliss
Our wedding day... Our wedding kiss
Damn. Now I want to skip to that part
Everything else is a prolonged start
And from then until... well hopefully no end.
And oh I know you're gonna love my friends

And they'll love you too at least I hope so
Now I'm getting all nervous about things I don't know
But I'm straying now.Let me get back on track.
I'm not perfect and there are many things I lack
But I hope you can love me how I'll love you
And to the future me: you're one lucky dude.

I don't know how we did it or when we will
But if she got you married then she must be skilled
Regardless I'm happy we met her and I haven't met her yet
And don't mess it up cause most likely she'll be as good as you get.
And to you Mrs. Lettman I don't know you but you already make my heart sing
No doubt about it. You deserve the ring.

Friday, 19 April 2013

The true you - Poem

What do you do when you're left broken, beaten and betrayed?
Neutered and spayed? Or falsely portrayed
As the one with the problems and negative qualities
By those around you who amass to the quantity
Of the people who you want to see your vision and mind
But are the worst examples of human kind
They take and take until bones are left bleached white
And we all know no single person could fight them all with just sheer might.

The pain so crippling, in the corner you cry
Living a lie, saying that it will get better before you die?
Not on it's own and you want to fight back I can tell
To just stand on your throne and tell them they can all go to hell
But not as you are. Not as the saint
Those words from your mouth? The weak-hearted would faint
So why not get an accomplice that truly understands
Closest one to your heart who would say what he demands

But for vengance sake give that side of you a name
Grant him some fame, make him the catalyst for rage
The words he says you would never say but you think to say
His tongue spews acid and flames in every way
No good could come of it but what else will you do?
Let him take over, nobody would ever know... they wouldnt have a clue
That he existed as part of you all this time.
And now that he speaks his very words are a crime.
So yes they might attack him too but at least they know where he stands.
Not shriveled in a corner, playing with his hands.

In the end of it all that person is still you
And more true, the remaining face, existence of which they had no clue.
If you think I'm saying to go and create yourself a split personality
Then no. Wake up, get up and face your reality.
Be who you are. Spare no thought. Say it all.
Scream it or shout it that's your call
Be the you that you are.
Because any you that you are could be a brand new star.
Say what you think and speak from the heart.
Every day could be a brand new start.

Monday, 15 April 2013

Storm of the heart - Poem

To wake up in the middle of the storm and realize all your walls are destroyed
To know you helped pull them down for some unknown reason
Who do you blame? Who can you blame but yourself.
In the end they were your walls and it was by your choice the were destroyed unfortunately the coming storm cares not.

To find no possible reprise nor mercy from the hellish storm
The very feeling of the howling wind pulling at you from all directions
Messages planting the seed of false hope into your heart that things will get better
Unknowing to the messenger that the seed bursts into thorns and make the pain that much more intense.

To foolishly nurture the thorns with the water from the storm
The storm rages, both inward and outward, as you try to piece things together
Holding onto the notion of better days to come by even attempting to control the wild winds
Yearning for more news in hope. Depending on the eyes of the blind.

To unwittingly follow the storm.
Finally the storm is moving but it drags you along?
Why are you swept away by it's winds? What past life experience begets this torture?
And to do so by walking towards... wait.

To finally awaken, to what once felt like a nightmare but more real than you would want.
The bed beneath u is the first thing you awaken to. The foundation of a new home around you.
More time than you could recall has passed.
Now what do you do? You can learn from your mistakes and harden your defenses and steel the mind.

But in the end the aftermath of the storm.
Will follow you as you had followed it.