PaD (3) 20: Filler

This is where the poem goes if the words were there
But sometimes life is outside the grasp of words.
Then what?

PaD (3) 19 - Math 101

It's just so great to see how we came to be.

I often sit here, pondering
How A led to B led to C led to D led to E....
Through to you + me.

So my mind goes wandering
To the days when you were just a friend,
And a moment without you wasn't the end.

But as I write, searching
Through poem comments and my inbox,
I smile...

Suddenly it doesn't matter...
U and I aren't simple variables,
And no rule of mathematics can make them work,
But nothing on earth can make them not.

PaD (3) 18 - Palindroooooooome!

Really?? You mean it's the real deal?
Like... I mean... FOR REAL?
Because, you see...
It just can't be...
That's just... well... Surreal.

I mean, yeah, I'm not gonna lie,
It's SO what I wanted! And that's why
Even though you say
It's truly that way
It's too good to be true, I just can't deny...

How did I happen upon one so great?
It's way beyond luck, must have been fate,
Too much fell in place
Like a smack in the face
I'd be a retard not to realize you're my soul mate.

And I'll never know just what I've done...
Was it the silly poems or cheesy puns?
No matter what it was,
It really doesn't matter, cause...
Baby... You are so definitely the one.

See, even now you've got me all crazy,
Writing this poem while being so lazy,
Gotta crack out RhymeZone
Too tired to do it alone
And besides, you make my brain all mushy and hazy.

PaD (3) 17 - The Isles Ch. 6 - The God of Elysia (Haiku Series)

My crafted world
Trees, birds, animals, people...
My words brought to life.

With ev'ry smile,
I am proud, success attained...
In my Elysia.

But wait, what is this?
My world, it's not perfect!
What are these islands?

One ring was to join,
A land mass to unite them.
Instead four islands lie.

Islands segregate...
Diff'rent ideals confined,
Perfection denied.

But no, I am God,
This world isn't perfect,
But it is my world.

PaD (3) 16 - Baked

Okay, so somehow I was retarded and didn't post this here. Sorry!

A square block of clay, everyone has their own say
Possibility concealed, soon to be revealed.
Cold against skin, not knowing where to begin,
Thrilled, but unskilled, but it seems these others are...

They sure seem nice, so you ask for advice,
They seem so sure, feeling secure, assured
As they tell you how to shape the clay.

Unquestioning the suggesting, following their every word,
Becoming adept yet feeling inept, your own thoughts never heard
Perspiring, desiring it to be the shape you want it to be

Until one day you realize, to your surprise
You are the clay, and to your dismay
While you've been toiling, the oven of life's been slowly broiling,
Hardening the clay into a lump, a shapeless clump
Shaped by everyone but you.

PaD (3) 15.5: The Isles Ch. 5 - The Portal

“This portal be leading through time and space,
It leaves this world for another place.
Have ye fun, argh, and hop inside,
Trust me, matey, you'll enjoy the ride.”

The pirate smiled and laughed his laugh,
Boisterous, like a pirate Santa,
Laughing “har har har” instead of “ho ho ho.”

Then suddenly....

This feeling rushed over me
Hairs on my neck not just standing,
But doing a most complex tango.
Goosebumps begetting goslingbumps.
Heart beating as though my ribs would soon snap,

Yet all the while this warmth engulfed me...
Now I know there's no light at the end of the tunnel;
Who wants blinding, radiant light
When this gentle, inviting warmth can lead you instead?

The air itself tingled,
As if each molecule were a tiny finger,
Gently massaging, urging onward, never pushing,
Encouraging following the wild colors.

Tacky turquoises, mustard yellows, ketchup reds...
It wasn't as though I could see it in the distance
It was as if even the atoms were tie dyed,
A comic strip illustrator who had snapped and gone mad,
Then pasted my pale-fleshed self upon it.

Here it comes.....

PaD (3) 15: Guitar Zero

It's just a game, just code and graphics
Just a plastic guitar with some buttons and wires,
Then how is it so good at degrading me?

I'm not saying I can't hit the buttons well!
Hell, I can five star nearly everything...
On medium.

But dude, there are videos of kids,
KIDS, man!
They're playing this at 9 or 10,
On the hardest of all songs
On the hardest of all settings
And they're kicking ass!

If a 10 year old, with his shorter, weaker fingers
Can whoop my butt, an adult of 26...

What is it that's wrong with me?
Will I ever be good enough?
Will others forever kick my rear?
Should I give up?
For a game called Guitar Hero
You sure make a lot of us feel like Guitar Zeroes....

PaD (3) 14.5: The Grass

I always used to sit, marveling at the grass...

It always bends, no matter what direction the wind blows,
And when trampled, it simply springs right back up.
Even when cut, it grows and grows right back.

I used to sit and smile.
I was like that grass.
Always bending, never breaking and always springing right back.

Now I'm more like a slinky.

PaD (3) 14: Sometimes

Sometimes we get an idea
Sometimes we can't get it out of our heads
Sometimes we write it down and sleep on it
Sometimes we awake still just as excited
Sometimes it's an idea that can change the world
Sometimes it's one that will just change ours
Sometimes we get so dedicated that nothing else matters
Sometimes we go to work at it so hard
Sometimes it works and we are so proud

But...
Sometimes we can't
No,
Sometimes we won't
Sometimes our “idea” no matter how great
Sometimes it doesn't matter
Sometimes we already have something much better
Sometimes it's a person
Sometimes that person can never be trumped
Sometimes that person is everything

But EVERY time that person is you.
EVERY time anything crosses my mind
EVERY time it can cut away from you even a moment
EVERY time I turn it down
EVERY time I'd rather have you
EVERY text
EVERY email
EVERY call
EVERY moment
EVERYthing
EVERY day
ForEVER

PaD (3) 13: Your Seat

A little break from the story today cause I am massively brain fried and the upcoming two poems (yep, must be done as a set of two separate poems!) are MAJORLY important ones... so for tonight...

Your seat may sometimes seem taken,
But it is always available,
Just ask nicely,
Or smile,
Or exhale and it's all yours.

Come on, take your seat,
It's ready for you,
It misses you
Almost as much as I do.

Pat pat...
Hi you.

PaD (3) 12: The Isles Ch. 4 - Wish Granted

*deep breath*

IWasAllHoppedUpOnCaffeineAndTaurine

WithNoSleepForTwoWholeDays

ANaturalHighInMySystemFr....

Okay, Jonathan, maybe I should take this one...

With calluses upon his fingertips,

Raw, blistered, numbed, trembling,

Fighting to hold onto the papers within his hands,

Excitement and a boatload of caffeine the only things keeping him awake.

Compass glistening with sweat,

Slippery, needle dancing every which way.

Fingers rubbing frantically as the split pea soup smoke once again emerged...

“Argh!” The pirate said, “Finally done, then?

You had me wait two days, I'm not going to wait again.”

“Relax, pushy pirate, yes I'm all set,

But don't get all angry, I'm the master, don't forget.

My wish is right here, on these pages in my hands,

Take them, my perfectly well-crafted plans.”

As the papers floated from trembling digits

The poet nearly fell, their weight suddenly gone.

“Argh! How you wrote this in two days I can't possibly comprehend,

For it'd take three weeks for mortal man to read from beginning to end.

Lucky for you, lawyers are quick readers of every wish made,

I hope there be no mistakes, for if so, I'd be very afraid...”

And a moment after the pages vanished,

A swirling rainbow of a portal appeared...

The black center beckoning.

“Just enter right here, yer wish be inside,

Hang on tight, argh, and enjoy the ride.”

PaD (3) 11: The Isles Ch. 3 - One Eyed Wish Master

The thin, golden metal glistened,
Probably not actually gold, maybe tin or copper, whatever,
As the full-of-himself poet brushed away the sand.

A smoke... Green, thick,
Like a cloud dipped in split pea soup for dye
Emerged from the spout with a laugh.

The fellow stood, beard pure white,
Typical parrot on his shoulder, bandanna and eye patch,
As the smoke kept grip on his peg leg.

“Ha ha ha, a genie I be,
And I grant you wishes... One, two, three!”
The voice bellowed in sing-songy rhyme,
Yet echoing even over the sound of crashing waves.

“You speak and look as though a pirate, fellow,
And why must you so loudly bellow?”
The poet, who I shall now refer to by name -
Jonathan - rather than adjectives followed by “poet.”

“Damn you, odd genie, look what you've done,
Now even I rhyme, this is far from fun.
And what is it with your pirateness?
I thought genies were purple and weird lookin', more or less...”

“Fer a poet, yer mind be closed,
But, so be it, to the question ye has posed,
I was once a pirate, tis entirely true,
But one day as I sailed the seas of violent blue
We found a treasure – a lamp, shiny and tin.
And aaarrrrgh! I know, 'twas quite a sin,
But I snuck it in me pantaloons and when reaching shore,
I withdrew to me room to polish it. Aye, to sell it for more.
But when I did, a purple beast as you described appeared.
I drew my scimitar, yet still it came near.
It offered three wishes, 'Choose wisely' it said.
I used one for wealth, one for women and one to never be dead,
It laughed, saying 'Your wish is my command,
You'll get each one, but at your master's demand.'
So I be sealed in this compass for all of time,
And, ARGH!!!! Forced to speak in couplet rhyme.”

He took a deep breath,
His story complete, yet he had nearly forgotten to add...
“I must say, matey, the wish fulfillment be not up to me,
So choose wisely, John, your wishes, all three.”

While John - Errr... Jonathan, sorry! - was raging,
His name violated, shortened to “common” form,
His mind creaked once more,
The gears within clack, clack, clackity-clacking,
As his vision unfolded.

“Give me some time, pirate genie, please understand
I wish for but only one wish, though grand.”
And as the pirate nodded, a simple, sullen “Argh” escaping his lips,
He retreated, green mist pulled into the lamp,
And Jonathan, the clearly insane poet
Retreated to his home,
Staring at his computer screen,
Word document teasing him...
Fingers tap, tap, tappity-tapping...

PaD (3) 10: The Isles Ch. 2 - The Poet

Fingers tap, tap, tappity-tap,
I try to write,
Think, think, think,
Yet no words come.
Chug, chug, chuging my soda
Teeth rotting, but nothing...

I don't understand,
I've been given the gift of word assembly!
Master of putting words together in the best of ways,
Yet so often I am stuck sitting here,
Blaze in my mind
Scorching through fingertips
For this world, so fortunate to read it.

Oh, the sea....

Azure waves,
Living, breathing as they caress the sand,
Nature's way of reminding us that all we need,
All we could ever possibly want,
We can find right here without the televisions
The mp3 players
The computers
The cars
The games
The internet
The movies
The action figures...
Even the ones to 1/16 scale of lesser known but awesome characters.

The words are forgotten
As stiff fingers are enveloped by cool, flowing sand,
Hands digging, searching...
I have always felt this urge.
This urge to search the sand,
Dig, seek out something, anything...

And now I know why....

Buried no more,
I have discovered you,
You are mine and mine alone.
My precious...

PaD (3) 9: The Isles Ch. 1 - Introduction

I am a poet, my name inconsequential,
And I welcome you to my tale.
I have scribed the happenings of the Isles,
All to poem form, no less, pretty nifty huh?
The tale begins with a fellow poet,
Lonely.... And touched by fate.
So come along with me,
And you shall see,
The story of a world gone wrong.

PaD (3) 8: March On

I know it's not always easy,
I know it gets tough,
I know it sometimes seems like it's just never gonna get any better at all,
But it will.
It always does.
Life is challenging, sure,
But it only gives us what we can handle.

It's true what they say,
What doesn't kill us makes us stronger,
But if we don't keep pushing, we get weaker all over again.
So march on,
March on forever,
And when the drummer speeds up to unbearable speeds,
Just plug your ears,
Hum your own beat and march on,
March on...

PaD (3) 7: Given

I used to look around,
Check out all the girls, fantasize,
But now there's no need to talk about them,
I talk enough to annoy anyone about this great girl I've got now.

I give myself to you,
I'm not whipped, not taken, not claimed,
But I'm all yours nonetheless, no way to argue,
Forever, every bit of me, and I've been around long enough to know what that means.

I know you know this, though,
Cause I've got you on my desktop and my cell,
I text you, IM you, write about you and call you constantly,
Never forced, always just me, always done out of sheer need to have you.

I am here, for you, with you.
I am not going anywhere,
At least not without you by my side
With my arm around your waist and our sides squeezed together.

Just remember, I'm given to you,
My thoughts, my words and my actions,
And I'm never going to be at ease
Until we are forever united, in one another's arms... At home.

PaD (3) 6: MINE

I know you want her,
You'd be a moron not to.
But too bad, sucker...
She's MINE.

I used to find that offensive,
Come on, how do you claim a human as your own?

I TOTALLY get it now...

So I mean no offense, no insult, no condescending when I say...
You are SOOOOOOOOOOO MINE!!!!

PaD (3) 5: Misguided Anger

There once was a man who was caught cheating on his wife,
And so, in her rage, she grabbed a butcher knife.
But she didn't go after him, no siree Bob!
It was the woman, she believed, who needed the knife job.

"Please don't hurt me, I'm sorry, I didn't know he was married!" she screamed,
"Breaking up a marriage, helping a man cheat, I'd have never dreamed..."

"Liar! Whore! Bitch!" the wife screamed with rage, knife clenched tight,
"Next you'll tell me it wasn't what it seemed, I shouldn't trust my sight."

"Not at all," the woman said, trembling, sweat dripping from her brow.
"Please, tell her how you told me you were single! Please! Now!"

He saw his wife, ready to kill and said "Babe, she's lying, she totally knew,
But she seduced me, I was helpless, you know I only love you."

The woman's heart dropped.... And before his wife even moved the knife,
The woman said, voice harsh, "I'm already dead then, do take my life.
Your husband told me he was single, and we began to date,
A few weeks later he told me he loved me, yet now I feel only hate,
For he told me of wonderful dreams of a house, car and kids,
Yet now I see them for what they truly were, harsh, cold fibs.
So go ahead and kill me, strike true, destroy these lies,
For a life without his love will simply never be enough." As tears fell from her eyes.

The husband, the cheater, the liar, the bastard stepped in,
"Now honey, I know that this woman committed such a terrible sin...
But I need you too badly for you to be sent to jail,
Where you'd be someone's bitch, not even a male's...
And although conjugal visits would be really really hot
After you being manhandled by a hot lesbian cellmate a whole lot,
Shes just a stupid girl, so please put the knife down,
Cause she's just not worth it, ha ha look at her frown!"

The woman ran from the house as she cried and cried,
And mere months later found the love of her life, although she hadn't even tried.
They lived a life together happier than either could ever have imagined,
And she felt forever forgiven, as her new hubby showed her how she hadn't even sinned.

But what about the liar, the bastard, the coldhearted cheat?
Well, he made passes at damn near every girl he did meet!
And every time his wife caught him it was always the same,
She was mad at the innocent girl, not the man who couldn't keep his parts tame.

The moral of the story?

If your man, or woman, is cheating on you
Then boot them out of your life with your sharpest, heaviest shoe
For a liar and cheater knows exactly what they do,
WHO they do, and obviously don't care about you.
Don't take your anger out on who it is they've done it with, no way!
For its your guy, or your gal, who's gotta hit the highway.

PaD (3) 4: Hope

Some say that hope is for fools and the weak,
That we cling to small shimmers of light in a world of darkness.

Some say that love is just misery and woe,
That we are doomed to repeated heartbreak, lies and pain.

Some say that happiness is dead, decayed, gone...
To rise from the ashes for mere moments before once more fading.

Some say that life has, does and always will suck,
That we must cling to the few good moments afloat in a sea of crap.

Nah.

Life is a gift, one most precious and grand,
It's the bad, not the good, that are so rare.

And I know you may think your life is horrid despair,
I'm not saying adversity is a lie.

But if we throw in the towel and simply accept life as a lost cause,
Then it is our own cause that is lost.

And love, oh sweet love, our second greatest gift,
To feel pain only when we smile, for those muscles are so overused;
To be oneself fully, yet somehow be loved for every bit of it,
To think of only one whenever we wake, shop, eat, drink, drive, walk, work, talk, go online, smile, laugh, watch tv, cook, sleep, rock, relax, breathe....

And hope... Hope, hope, hope...
Hope is not blind faith or a plan Z,
It is a sense that not only is all not lost,
We will survive,
We will thrive,
We will succeed,
We will kick ass, indeed.

So you can't give up, you can't give in,
Giving up on the gift of life is the greatest of all sins...

PaD (3) 3: Phonus Interruptus

I sit here and write of things most sincere...
Pffft, yeah right, I just ramble on silly topics.
But anyway.....

Tonight I write of the most important things:
Love, joy, dedication and humor all in one
And here goes....

In a world of distrust and lies and stupid games,
All we have to do is be honest, come on!
And here's how...

Oh wait, gotta call my Angel, I'll get back to ya!

PaD (3) 2: The Best Things in Life are Freeish

There are some who say the best things in life are free:

The touch of one you love,

The smell of cinnamon rolls in the oven,

The sound of the waves at sea.

As with all things in life, others disagree,

And not just cause life is all about weird, random arguments,

But because it's true, the best things in life AREN'T free

And I'm going to show you how, ladies and gents...

You see, the best things in life aren't free,

They're freeish.

Those waves are heaven, that's most definitely true,

But it takes gas to get there, and dude, that's a LOT!

Sure, cinnamon rolls cookin is scrum-diddily-umptuous,

But you need electric or gas, and a pan, and something to contain said electric or gas, and plates or paper towels to put them on, oh and of course the rolls themselves. Whew!

And love.... Oh love, free? Pfffft...

Maybe for those lucky enough to live in the same state.

But you know what?

They're called the BEST things in life for a reason.

And anyone who's had even the slightest taste

Of happiness like this, dude it'd be such a waste

To let it go for any reason at all.

I'd spend every penny and minute of my life

To chase that particular one,

The greatest of greatest things in life,

And I won't rest until it's done,

Cause dude, it's so worth it!

PaD (3) 1: Now Hear This!

Dang did I fail the last PaD quickly! Well, internet is back pretty darn well and so here I go again! Not giving this challenge up :)

Today's PaD is about how people force rhyme and flow into poetry and kill the message. As such, it is TOTALLY un-flow-y and un-rhyme-y for a reason other than laziness!

--------------------------------------


Dude, these poems are so unnatural,
Words that are sticky, stumbly stairways of speech,
...... Yeah, like that!
And it is in the spirit of realization that I write this... write.

Why do we sit here, with such an important message in our heads,
Then go to some SQL database of rhymes,
Forcing sentences that rhyme to and do and you and shoe and threw and flew and crew,
Until we're left with something cold, with words using 30 syllables?
And sure it's technically awesome, hell the more obtuse the more can be read into it, right?
But our message is lost... And so is our voice.

Don't be that dude, unless that dude is you.
If you've got a message, just spit it out!
Like this poem for example...
If you didn't get what it's about...
Then... Geez, come on!

PaD (2) 2: Battle Cry

Some days it's hard to get out of bed.
Some days it's hard to put on the battle gear.
Some days your sword is far too difficult to lift.
Some days white flags are even too heavy to wave.

But remember that every war has a hero,
And in your war in life, it's got to be you.
Scream it out, “This is MY life!”
Don't settle, don't just sit back and watch it go by.

There will always be another day,
Another battle, another foe,
But the war goes on, don't give in,
Cause until you surrender, you're the victor.

PaD (2) 1: Tapering Reflections

Three months ago....

Feels like an eternity away now.

Not even a full percent of my time alive,

Yet it was easily an entire lifetime ago.

Back then...

I was single,

I was just starting to write,

I was still trying to figure life out.

Now...

I'm still trying to figure life out, sure,

And I'm still majorly infantile with this that we call “poetry”,

But I am starting to get a grasp on life...

Starting to understand happiness,

Starting to understand love,

Starting to understand...

Why when I sit here to write something goofy,

I write about you instead.

Damnit!

Loooooook, I'm baaaaaaaack....

Missed Me? Aaaawwww You Lie So Well!

So hey again! Yeah, it's been a while... Someone lost the challenge. Their name starts with what happens when you overcook something and ends with what you do in bed. No, I mean when you're sleepy, not THAT. Geez....

Char + Lie = Charlie!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

So yeah, I lost. But I had reeeeeally good reason. Like, the bestest reason ever. "What's her name?" Yeah yeah, shut up. But yeah, her name is Angel! We sooooooo had the best day ever in the history of the universe. Trust me, I don't care if I was at day 364, I'd have given up for it.... Yeah, broken as hell and loving it. Sorry, can't shut up about her, and if you're reading this... Well, that's just your problem, isn't it?

So anyway.... I am starting over again at 1, as of today. In the spirit of it, I wrote about the change over the last three months (April 9th is when I started this, so slightly less than 3 months, but yeah...). I will sooner or later make it a full year straight, but I'd say the 70 or so I made it this last time was pretty dang good too! So welcome back!