Bonded; Father & Son

I've written a lot of material over the summer, which I admit I could have shared here. I didn't. But that changes today. Here's the latest addition to that line of work, finished just a few minutes ago.

All I Wanted

Got that resume on hand
That enthusiasm momma always told me to have
Opened up and vulnerable, he said to me:
"No, son boy, you're not qualified."
When all I wanted
Was to be what I wanted to be

Got that pen & paper on hand
Gonna write me an essay as a prelude to a free summer
Determined and nervous, he said to me:
"No, son boy, you don't get a pass."
When all I wanted
Was to be what I wanted to be

Got that I.D card on hand
Another day of work and a chance to go places
Crafty and ambitious, he said to me:
"No, son boy, you're not fit for the role."
When all I wanted
Was to be what I wanted to be

Got that passport on hand
Gonna fly to the ends of the Earth to start fresh
Dreaming and scared shitless, he said to me:
"No, son boy, you just won't cut it here."
When all I wanted
Was to be what I wanted to be

'Pith' Concept Poem

I'm clamping these crimson fists together

I've wrought much agony tonight

The pain, the wanting, the de facto nature;

The individual grasped, the identity in sight

The burning need of independent thought

Inhibited, bridled only by the living of her

This will make for a dream of dreams

A maniacal quality unheard of by most

Unsought of by most, if not all

Unsound, if even ethically stark in its quality

Matricidal intent is ubiquitously forsaken

But my desire is, in exchange, all for the taking

It was but wracking to muse;

The lover and the giver in me strongly refused

But nature prevailed and though my sanity's since sailed

A world's weight was instantly loosed from my shoulders

At the snuff of a light, the passing of one's pain

That whom birthed a sheltered life then razed by my hand

The soothsayers, the playwrights, the poets

They all shyly wrote, all timidly spoke, all penned this stage;

A child snuffing the mother and, oh in its bitterness

The child thus reborn, at the bloody loss of the mother

I broke the chain, and carved my path that beckoned to me;

I've set myself irrevocably, veritably free

Prince Of Thieves

This is not my usual style, because it is not intended to be a lyric. Nonetheless, since lyrics are basically poems in themselves, this can still be classed with the rest of my poetic works.

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Here I tell a tale, makes my heart swell
Of the days I was the Prince of Thieves
A tragedy where, as my teardrops fell
I toiled and troubled for my dear family

First, the wife, mean so much to me
Struck with fatality, she'd hardly see
I tried and I tried to give her a cure
Yet my low stature deemed me inferior

And so I defied the laws of the land
To pay for heroics I felt the iron hand
Took me away, they would not heed
And thus they named me the Prince of Thieves

And thus she passed...

Then, first-born, mean so much to me
Starving and wounded, a child in need
I tried and I tried to give her respite
Yet all my efforts were clogged with might

And again I defied the laws of the land
For feed for my child, I felt the iron hand
Took me away, they would not heed
And thus they named me the Prince of Thieves

And thus, she passed...

Then, last child, all that's left of me
Fell with the illness, could hardly breathe
I tried and I tried to give her a cure
Yet my past crimes deemed me sinner

And again I defied the laws of the land
To save my last love, I felt the iron hand
Took me away, they would not heed
And thus they named me the Prince of Thieves

And thus, she passed...

The tale I told, makes my days cold
Of the days I was the Prince of Thieves
I hope you learn from what I've told
So as to guide you in your dire times of need

And thus, I shall pass...