My poetry is as scattered as my mind, it actually took me years to realize that i was actually a poet, i was always known to be a very descriptive and expressive writer, but i never considered it to have rhyme or reason, until i took account of just how many of my emotions were being poured through ink onto paper, and just how much of my life started to make sense once i read it.
My inspiration comes from many poetic styles and authors, but my notable favorites are John Keats, Robert Frost, Maya Angelou, and of course Shakespeare. Do not be surprised if you see shadows of their work within' my own. All of these pieces are personal, i've written alot with obvious interperetation, so for the ones that aren't written that way, feel free to ask about them. Enjoy, and as always, critiques are welcomed.
Coming Soon: *Fanny Brawne
*Love By Way of Yearning, Silence, and Broken Promises*
*Chateau Di'f*
The Awkward Hours That Followed
Logical thought at a screeching halt, chokes, grabbing, scratching, and screaming once paired with passionate throes, now befriend emotions of a disastrous kind. The impacting blows still making love to my every thought. These venemous memories course through my veins daily and nightly refusing to leave my system before becoming deep regret. This confusion beating at a constant rate within' me keeping me awake throughout Lucifer's hours, confirming the depth of my attraction to us. My tracks into this wilderness have been covered by time, I am too frightened to move forward, too lost to go backwards. A heart-wrenching ending to a story that finds Prince Charming becoming the villain. My dangerous but empty threats follow me wherever I go, attacking like thrown stones, forcing me to keep my head held low. A futile attempt to breathe life into the inadequate word "Sorry", to give it the second chance once given to Lazarus. I can do nothing but watch you prescribe volumes of the devil's clearest potion to your system in hopes of filling the chasm I left in your soul. I sense something so different and violated within' you, as I would sacrifice the next miracle sent to me from God to erase this uneasiness that I've caused. My co-dependency on destruction has reached its height and overflown to drown all that we once shared. Promises to never repeat my mistake are broken too soon. We wonder the same "What has become of the man I knew?" Our only tools for repair, are our carnal desires, but will that be enough? I see a nuclear potential in this easily woken beast residing within' my temple. A divine voice within' me speaks in a low tone and pleads for your refuge, at the cost of depriving myself of your graces that I've come to rely on so. My self-hatred is displayed on your canvas as wounds, and even as they heal, I envision them still, torturing me into a crippling self-loathing. Pain comes from knowing that you still glow brightly at the sight of my shadow. My neglect towards myself has made our bond a victim, but I challenge the evils to the death, promising myself demise before I ever raise my hands to harm you once more, promising to gouge my own eyes if I am ever the cause of such a look in yours
Forever Unforgiven
If mere words were ever meant to vent in productive progress, I vent these hateful numbers in hopes that they scorch the eyes that your naiivete' views the world in; Oh Siren, ye' that mates ill-fate with what demons survive of to produce discord; Many nights find thoughts of you as the crook that invades sleep and breathes life into the sweat that sits idle beneath my skin; I entertain your arrogance and stupidity only with these previous lines if only for the distasteful trickery of false entertainment with the achievement of your attention in mind; In the eve of Earth's calender's tribute to a father's significance I can think only of you, I deflect the angel's pointless efforts to bring me a happy moment, as my energy is already well spent on hating you; An unspoken me is an unhappy me I find, so my words have found their noble purpose, indifference outnumbered by the uneasiness I feel from your undeserved happiness;
Seems within my character to exude such maliciousness I know, but I find the absense of reason unserving to eyes not possessed by you and I; With this in mind, This wretched anger attempts to form a story unbiased yet filled with a malevolence that satisfies my center; A seed, too early to be named, destined to take first breaths in a world of conflict, yet a world worth living; This seed, becoming my focal point ye' poisonous maiden, my questions remain as to whether its heartbeat growing within you touched you as it touched me; My doubts grow as anxious grapeseeds as the deception of the evil king grows within your throat in speaking; I recall in Satans hours while you rest, the ease in which your admission of my pardoning from this convenient burden for reason of my non-posession of the blessing's seed found my ear, another lucky fiend's burden;
Harlot! Thee from the pits of Tartarus, finding this indescretion haunts my core to present day, to find that the now aborted seed once proclaimed not of me, was in fact produced by my loins and my loins alone; My very own legacy rewarded and robbed in the birth and death of my happiness; Cruel-fated that our inability to speak kindness in the same breath should have such a catastophic effect on that which should have blessed this world in place of the curses I've placed; My one chance to breath tender breathes on this earth gone in the eye's blink; The undeveloped prodigy's only existing sin is knowing only of you, and never breathing the same oxygen its hopeless father wishes eves and morns to abandon.
Seems within my character to exude such maliciousness I know, but I find the absense of reason unserving to eyes not possessed by you and I; With this in mind, This wretched anger attempts to form a story unbiased yet filled with a malevolence that satisfies my center; A seed, too early to be named, destined to take first breaths in a world of conflict, yet a world worth living; This seed, becoming my focal point ye' poisonous maiden, my questions remain as to whether its heartbeat growing within you touched you as it touched me; My doubts grow as anxious grapeseeds as the deception of the evil king grows within your throat in speaking; I recall in Satans hours while you rest, the ease in which your admission of my pardoning from this convenient burden for reason of my non-posession of the blessing's seed found my ear, another lucky fiend's burden;
Harlot! Thee from the pits of Tartarus, finding this indescretion haunts my core to present day, to find that the now aborted seed once proclaimed not of me, was in fact produced by my loins and my loins alone; My very own legacy rewarded and robbed in the birth and death of my happiness; Cruel-fated that our inability to speak kindness in the same breath should have such a catastophic effect on that which should have blessed this world in place of the curses I've placed; My one chance to breath tender breathes on this earth gone in the eye's blink; The undeveloped prodigy's only existing sin is knowing only of you, and never breathing the same oxygen its hopeless father wishes eves and morns to abandon.
Babylon Candle
In the absense of my better self, i spawn new impossibilities, known only to me; This grotesque cage and all things of good will i've trapped within it; Dying hopes with their last breath, travel thousands of miles away to show me what my eyes have not consumed in many sunsets; What my hands have missed with the passing of billions of fallen raindrops;
Aplogies that lived and died to fall on deaf ears of loved ones that shared this similar unguided fate; The internal wound of love left alone, never again to burn at its full potential; my unlikely Amber jewel, abandoned by me, abandoned by time, its realization of self worth lost somewhere between the two; the last powerful ray of this love divided throughout the years and resting in the laps of those that came to father the seeds that my future laid claim to in previous years;
My thoughts travel to that beautiful grass covered stone with hands paused in prayer that welcomed me when the world coldly dumped me from its palms; I turn mirrors away upon realization that the ground that surrounds it have not feasted on my tears in countless winters, the stone's only visitor involved in unproductive self-loathing; i remain confident that i could shut my eyes and sleepwalk the path back to the warmth of the stone; I imagine the stone feels the same neglect she feels several feet below it;
The vision of degradation so bright, growing brighter with the prolonging of my absence from where i belong; Ashamed that fear threatens to take the wheel before the trip begins, i fear that fear's tenacity keeps me away longer; Coward suits me well for once in my existence, as my true fears remain unspoken; the worlds i help build, crumbling in need of me, yet i shy away; The destination sits clearly in my mind, yet the Candle remains unlit, until my idea of where i belong, fades away completely.
Aplogies that lived and died to fall on deaf ears of loved ones that shared this similar unguided fate; The internal wound of love left alone, never again to burn at its full potential; my unlikely Amber jewel, abandoned by me, abandoned by time, its realization of self worth lost somewhere between the two; the last powerful ray of this love divided throughout the years and resting in the laps of those that came to father the seeds that my future laid claim to in previous years;
My thoughts travel to that beautiful grass covered stone with hands paused in prayer that welcomed me when the world coldly dumped me from its palms; I turn mirrors away upon realization that the ground that surrounds it have not feasted on my tears in countless winters, the stone's only visitor involved in unproductive self-loathing; i remain confident that i could shut my eyes and sleepwalk the path back to the warmth of the stone; I imagine the stone feels the same neglect she feels several feet below it;
The vision of degradation so bright, growing brighter with the prolonging of my absence from where i belong; Ashamed that fear threatens to take the wheel before the trip begins, i fear that fear's tenacity keeps me away longer; Coward suits me well for once in my existence, as my true fears remain unspoken; the worlds i help build, crumbling in need of me, yet i shy away; The destination sits clearly in my mind, yet the Candle remains unlit, until my idea of where i belong, fades away completely.
My Mysterious Attraction to You
A helpless victim to my own intrigue,
Restlessnes born from answers not yet found,
Held captive by forces not fully seen,
Slain by weapons that bear no weight or sound;
A sweet death to befall my hollow shell,
My will entranced by your woven daydreams,
To solve this crime and return to my hell,
It seems a threat to free me from your chains;
Your magic remains the torture I choose,
Quietly in pain with no cure in sight,
caught within your gravitational pull,
Desireless to all else in my life;
I feel as a damsel to your villain,
Unguarded from your effortless attack,
So far from myself while in your clutches,
Ashamed at what remains of my failed defense;
Following close behind the clues you leave,
Your rejection tastes to me as nectar does,
recovering from the cold blows I take,
For want of scenes I see in my thoughts;
As I push against that which does not move,
Crows circle above to witness defeat,
The moth's persistence to feel fire but once,
My attraction to what may never be;
Restlessnes born from answers not yet found,
Held captive by forces not fully seen,
Slain by weapons that bear no weight or sound;
A sweet death to befall my hollow shell,
My will entranced by your woven daydreams,
To solve this crime and return to my hell,
It seems a threat to free me from your chains;
Your magic remains the torture I choose,
Quietly in pain with no cure in sight,
caught within your gravitational pull,
Desireless to all else in my life;
I feel as a damsel to your villain,
Unguarded from your effortless attack,
So far from myself while in your clutches,
Ashamed at what remains of my failed defense;
Following close behind the clues you leave,
Your rejection tastes to me as nectar does,
recovering from the cold blows I take,
For want of scenes I see in my thoughts;
As I push against that which does not move,
Crows circle above to witness defeat,
The moth's persistence to feel fire but once,
My attraction to what may never be;
Mirror
Always holding your affirmation, I seek difference, I seek honesty, will your eyesight ever provide an appreciation not affected by things already seen?
My knowledge and experience show me what you can not, needing you no more; though this world would speak it unnatural to never again gaze into your judgmental abyss.
Clarity’s antagonist, a terrible sight to behold, dare I disagree? Evil glare of malicious reciprocity, denying all of which beauty embodies, yet speaking true.
Narcissism has rightfully evolved into loathing, Deep stares engage evasive eyes; I’m left breathless by my attraction to the darker depiction you so persistently cloak.
Reflective Bastille, your beliefs steadily built from the shreds of an acceptable time, space has outgrown you, allow dark the same exposure with no enslavement from light.
Your collective memory blinds you, what you’ve tasted resonated only from hope; no truth lies in reflection If your vision opposes the perspective of thine eyes.
My knowledge and experience show me what you can not, needing you no more; though this world would speak it unnatural to never again gaze into your judgmental abyss.
Clarity’s antagonist, a terrible sight to behold, dare I disagree? Evil glare of malicious reciprocity, denying all of which beauty embodies, yet speaking true.
Narcissism has rightfully evolved into loathing, Deep stares engage evasive eyes; I’m left breathless by my attraction to the darker depiction you so persistently cloak.
Reflective Bastille, your beliefs steadily built from the shreds of an acceptable time, space has outgrown you, allow dark the same exposure with no enslavement from light.
Your collective memory blinds you, what you’ve tasted resonated only from hope; no truth lies in reflection If your vision opposes the perspective of thine eyes.
Anxiety's Affection
This feeling has followed me my entire life. It belongs to me just as it once belonged to them. I should thank God for blessing me with such a strong and unchanging feeling to accompany my weaker ones. I've grown to respect and admire its relentless spirit, never lying down, never allowing itself to be defeated, not even by love. At my loneliest moments, it chooses isolation for me when I should be reaching out, I know now that it only wants me for itself, I'm flattered. It attacks any passion I have, and swallows any patience attempting to grow. I am at my worse in it's presence and I've come to value that. I never want to disappoint it, so when it finds time to come and visit me, I show appreciation by dressing up in the feeling of worthlessness that it bought just for me. I feed it with all the negativity and spite in my posession until my soul is as barren and desolate as the corpses my sweet torturer has produced in its lifetime. There's a strange beauty in watching it inhabit me, and it immediately sends my thoughts spiraling into a roulette of random emotions. I'm sure it takes pleasure in seeing how its work affects those around me because a part of me feels some of that pleasure. It's only goals are to tear me apart from the inside and keep me weak and alone as it has accomplished long ago. We deny each other, and it gives its attention to others, but we share something special. I feel I am it's favorite, and it needs me just as I need it. I've given my life to this feeling, knowing that it can only feel complete when I feel I am nothing.
Quicksand
My head sits buried in my palms,
Needing a beautiful feeling to pull
Me out of this trench, but it seems
Noone wants to visit this place.
Hope sways overhead reminding
Me that all I need is to reach up,
To grab what support taunts me,
Don't you realize that I'm stuck here.
My bones themeselves have trapped me,
My own movements restrict me,
my mistakes seal my fate,
My rage makes me easier to consume.
A single tear runs down the left
side of my unhappy face,
I forgot what crying
felt like, and yet I welcome it.
Insensitive trap, make this
slow dance stop, There's no easy way
to leave this pit, now I want only to
control time itself.
I've hesitated far too long, and now
hell's flames arising from clear view
and from my blind side
have grown strong.
Lower I sink into this, with my
heart's flawed eye focused on the light
I'm too weak to touch, I'm in way over my head,
I cannot breath, I fear it's just too much
Needing a beautiful feeling to pull
Me out of this trench, but it seems
Noone wants to visit this place.
Hope sways overhead reminding
Me that all I need is to reach up,
To grab what support taunts me,
Don't you realize that I'm stuck here.
My bones themeselves have trapped me,
My own movements restrict me,
my mistakes seal my fate,
My rage makes me easier to consume.
A single tear runs down the left
side of my unhappy face,
I forgot what crying
felt like, and yet I welcome it.
Insensitive trap, make this
slow dance stop, There's no easy way
to leave this pit, now I want only to
control time itself.
I've hesitated far too long, and now
hell's flames arising from clear view
and from my blind side
have grown strong.
Lower I sink into this, with my
heart's flawed eye focused on the light
I'm too weak to touch, I'm in way over my head,
I cannot breath, I fear it's just too much
To You, From Him
To You,
The Story of Him and You. It reads so Shakespearean, the cliché of sweet torture. I like what he sees in you, a strange self attraction, intrigued by how you redesign and make loveable the questionable pieces of his own humanity, when he hates to love himself. Not intimidated by distance, I see no better two to began a journey hindered or kept alive by your own creativity, in your minds you can paint the greatest love story ever told, or invent the greatest tragedy. Such passion people feel when they give someone their all, when the follow their dreams and wants in spite of what they feel as love. Him and You feel not only the love of two meant for one another and torn apart like cupid's arrow leaving his bow, but the hatred towards life, towards living, towards fate's choices, towards what should be and can not be. A union ignited by the rare joining both sides of the spectrum can be classified as limitless, possessing the power to not only turn the world as love does, but also to make it stop as darkness does. This thought frightens him to wake into cold sweats, the high and anxiousness one must feel holding a tool of mass destruction. Him wanting You, You Wanting Him, making so much sense that it makes none. Him knowing that his touch and thought could will you to do anything, to quiver, to want more, just as your eyes entice him into mindblowing selfless acts of foolish sense. Dark Divinity and Malevolent Reviviscence peering into one another, accepting all, a truly dangerous and inspiring beauty to witness from the outside.
-From Him
The Story of Him and You. It reads so Shakespearean, the cliché of sweet torture. I like what he sees in you, a strange self attraction, intrigued by how you redesign and make loveable the questionable pieces of his own humanity, when he hates to love himself. Not intimidated by distance, I see no better two to began a journey hindered or kept alive by your own creativity, in your minds you can paint the greatest love story ever told, or invent the greatest tragedy. Such passion people feel when they give someone their all, when the follow their dreams and wants in spite of what they feel as love. Him and You feel not only the love of two meant for one another and torn apart like cupid's arrow leaving his bow, but the hatred towards life, towards living, towards fate's choices, towards what should be and can not be. A union ignited by the rare joining both sides of the spectrum can be classified as limitless, possessing the power to not only turn the world as love does, but also to make it stop as darkness does. This thought frightens him to wake into cold sweats, the high and anxiousness one must feel holding a tool of mass destruction. Him wanting You, You Wanting Him, making so much sense that it makes none. Him knowing that his touch and thought could will you to do anything, to quiver, to want more, just as your eyes entice him into mindblowing selfless acts of foolish sense. Dark Divinity and Malevolent Reviviscence peering into one another, accepting all, a truly dangerous and inspiring beauty to witness from the outside.
-From Him
Untitled
Looking at what we've become at the hands of each other, we relied on the medicine called time to cure the damage; I find myself wondering if our intoxicating eruptions of love made are enough to overshadow our constant collisions; As my spirit lives and dies to move into and occupy the space your stubborn soul already fills; Even while away I live you, hanging on your every word as they painfully collapse my walls, my surroundings always singing the haunting song written by you and I; Quietly I beg your torture to allow my body to know slumber if only for one night; Needing my love's bullet to once again pierce your entire armor, I watch my delivered affection return to its sender, stamped with your cold ink; Constantly at war with myself, still believing you to be my other half, the miracle sent to rescue me from my world torn apart; Never wanting the sun to set on our mysterious attraction, let our ignorance be bliss, allowing us to face fate and turn back the pages to start at the beginning of our innocent infatuation to find happiness anew; Planting new trust to replace the wilted; To be King and Queen enough to declare our peace and turn our weapons on the outsiders that attempt to invade us.-T.Webb
Birthday Monologue
Listening closely for answers that never arrived to greet my ear. My patience left it's sheath so long ago to do battle, only to fall broken in the bloody trenches leaving me without defense. Demise no longer living among the rest of my fears. A quarter of a century's growth, aging backwards to an inevitable state of understanding nothing. Poised outside a dark cave, I sit terrified, afraid to approach the dragon that life has grown into, with it's horrid appearance, I recognize it only by the heat it breathes in my direction. I study each of my tears, and see the world's pain displayed in them. I am the only audience to my descent, finally I reach a day where faith is only a word, much like, war, pain, and suffering, there is no exiting this stage, even when the curtain closes. Playing the same doomed character nightly while the blind applauding continues. I beg you director, let this birthday be my last show. Broken dreams, torn hope and heartbreak gather for a dinner in my honor even in my absence. It is nearly delusional to hope for answers to emerge from the same hills from which my torture comes. The constant catastrophes my mind concocts in the brightest sunshine darken my days hours before the sun succumbs. Impossible to remain seated until this ride slows, then stops.