The Black Veil – A Poem

5150943940_b94fffd722_bThe Black Veil – A Poem

I wear this black veil of despair
Like the wrappings of a mummy,
Covering my self-inflicted wounds.

My face frozen in cold, blank stare
Trapped within my tomb,
Alone in my room.

Why do you continue to test me?
Why do you hold out savory meat
Only to snatch it from my hands?

It is wrong for me to question your authority,
To question the good of your plans,
To hold you in contempt, unable to understand?

I wear this lonely shroud of betrayal.
Spend my days wondering
Why is it I who should be denied?

Haven’t I sought to be faithful?
Why are the wicked given an easy ride,
Never facing near the trials you’ve thrown in my life?

Is it too much to ask
For an outlet to this love,
Just to have a companion by my side?

Each time the die is cast
Comes another lashing to my pride,
Another time where I’d discarded and thrown aside.

Why is it that romantic lovers
Are often the ones alone,
While cheaters, liars, thieves, and betrayers come home to open arms?

But though anger stirs, I’ll patiently wait to discover
Why you seem set on placing me in the midst of harm,
Why alone is always where you think I belong.

I wear this black veil of despair,
But I trust that you know more
Than what sits before my somber scene.

I guess that life is not always fair,
So be my rock upon which I lean
As I wait in solitude until you send to me my queen.

-Poem by Justin Farley


 

photo credit: Dream is Just A Dream via photopin (license)

Growing Pains – A Poem

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Growing Pains – A Poem

Why are these dreams that stretch out across my heart’s field of desire,
That glisten Like droplets of drew sparkling on the morning grass,
So hard to obtain, so hard to take to take hold of,
And so hard to lasso and pull close to reality?
The burden is bearing the tragedy of it all,
Knowing what you want, what you need,
Lies just beyond the forest and through the trees,
But you seem unable to put those desires into action.
So often I’m fixated on distractions that pull me off-course,
And get me lost on side paths instead of trekking onward
Towards goals, aspirations, and destinations.
It drives a person mad, carrying around bags of frustrations,
Grueling through labor day after day,
Counting the minutes, knowing there has to be another way.
But the Way is left without footprints, often prepared for
But never ventured and what’s left of hope slowly fades away.
There’s a demon inside of me that seems unable to be controlled,
Scoffing at dreams, content to let life pass me by,
Trampling on schedules, and consistently cursing meaningful causes.
Claws strike out at my fingers each time
I reach out to grasp my true potential.
I now know the paved road to success doesn’t exist.
You must venture through the dense forest,
Fight through the clinging vines, and thrash through the sticks.
No, to journey with intention is no vacation,
And the mess inside me, always attempting to misguide me, is no easy fix.
But the trail to nowhere is covered by countless footprints
And paved with the trampled dreams others have left behind.
The alarm clock beckons.
Wisdom speaks.
My souls shrieks.
But for some reason I have yet to understand,
I hear, but refuse to listen.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley


photo credit: After the rainfall via photopin (license)

The Trouble With Love – A Poem

The Trouble With Love – A Poem

Why do I continually let people into my fragile heart
Who have no business being there?
Why do I continue to trust in the promise of love
When it only breeds deep wounds of despair?

“I Love You’s” are thrown around like hellos,
Promises given without the trace of honest intention.
My soul breaks and quakes in mournful bellows
Because of thoughtless decisions.

Can’t I ever find someone who is honest and true?
Can’t I ever find eyes that don’t lie –
Eyes that echo joy and laughter
But have secrets and deceit they sleep behind?

Is it really that hard to accept love
And not continually push against it and fight?
You can continue to play tug-of-war with your heart,
But you’re done playing it with mine.

Soul suckers sit out in the darkness
And wait for a decent man
That they can feast upon and sink their vicious claws into,
Clutching honest, beating hearts in their hands.

I guess they get off on causing chaos,
Casting their spells upon warm, caring hearts.
Then, when they’re done with their feast
They simply spit them back up and tear them apart.

Cower in your corners you tainted and jaded,
You frightened, gutless little girls.
If you can’t look love in the face,
Stay the hell out of men’s worlds.

Stay in your delusions. Remain in the past,
Bitching about what Daddy didn’t do for you.
It’s about time you moved on and grew up,
The only excuse you have now is you.

The trouble with love is we live in a world
Full of confused, soulless creatures,
Who never give a damn about anyone but themselves,
Who hide behind exhausted excuses,
Love to hitch a ride upon a caring back,
But have no intention of sticking around for the journey.

The trouble with love is that you first have to find someone
Who’s not simply out to break hearts and get off on playing games.
And in our world, selfishness reigns,
And worthy hearts dwindle everyday.

So where are you, love?
I thought I knew you
But you turned out to be just another
Coward and liar.
Love, I’m done chasing you.
You can come find me when your games are through,
Until then I’m smothering your fire.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

One Is Never Enough, Ten Will Never Do – A Poem About Addiction

a man who  is ashamed, lonely, and depressedHaving suffered through the bonds of addiction, I sought in this poem to somehow put into perspective what the transformation of an addict is like. It never starts off as tragedy, but as a solution to all life’s problems – the missing puzzle piece that we’ve been searching for all of our life to make us fit. And nothing is better than discovering the magic of our elixir or drug of choice because it’s never about the experience. It is about healing the mangled, broken human being we’ve been carrying around inside our chest our whole life.

We rejoice. We celebrate. We can’t get enough. Finally, we are free. Finally, we have something that makes our darkness and fears disappear. But somewhere along the way, we cross a line. I don’t think any addict can truly know what day or time that line was crossed. But when we cross it, our enchanted dream becomes a bone-chilling nightmare. A sickness so swift comes over us that we fail to diagnose ourselves (unfortunately some never do). There is no romanticism in the depths of addiction. It is the coldest hell that man can ever go through.

There is often much confusion and anger towards loved ones who have addiction issues. That anger and frustration is not invalid. But for the addict, it is not some trip to Disneyland, but a ride down avenues that few can bear. It is the process of the soul shattering, and when the soul shatters, chaos is bound to follow. We are responsible for our actions, but the active addict is enduring a world that you can never begin to comprehend. We are not bad humans. We are sick, broken, mad, and in need of restoration. Love requires truth and confrontation. It cannot sit back and watch, while it’s lover is dying. It demands to be heard and to fight against the chaos. But love is the most powerful weapon against addiction. It takes someone else to believe you can fight back because often times an addict doesn’t have anything left to believe in. You don’t have to understand; you never will. But stretching out a hand to someone sinking is sometimes all it takes if they are willing to grab on. Blame, shame, and anger never do an addict any good. Trust me, we’ve got enough of that in our own heart to fill the world. We hate ourselves and what we’ve doing more than you can ever know. But we are frightened. We are scared. We do not know how to live in our own skin – fragile, broken, and utterly mangled. It is not deviance that drives one to addiction; it is deliverance. Deliverance from a world of hurt and pain. These hearts are already broken enough. Please do not break them even more. Restore them. Cherish them. Breathe your life back into them. Give them hope for a better tomorrow because their today is a living hell.

One Is Never Enough, Ten Will Never Do – A Poem About Addiction

One taste was all it took to love you.
You coddle me in your sweet embrace
And rock my fears and insecurities to sleep,
Nestled within your powerful arms.
But your enchanted dreams do not rub away from my eyes,
And I find it impossible to say good-bye to our nightly rendezvous.

I am drowning in your love,
But still thirsty.
Still yearning for just one more,
But somehow I know that will never do –
My every thought is of you
And the magic that your cast upon my broken mind.
You fix me and as long as you’re by my side,
The world is fine.
My strides are long and steady.
I’m cool, calm, confident, and ready
To take on the world with my head held high and my eyes
Ready to look life in the face.

But without the transformation I undergo after your taste,
I am lost, weak, scared, and incompetent.
My eyes drag across the floor
And fear commands my every move.
No.
One more will never do.
I need every ounce of you
Rattling through my veins, breaking these chains
That bind me in isolation.

But love, things were going so well.
What is this desolation
That now flows from your well?
Your spell has enchanted me blind
And numb to life.
What started off as waves of calm
Have turned to tides of chaos,
Screaming, shrieking out in piercing alarms.

I am not well.
No. My being is fluttering away in the breeze,
And a new form – some deformed demon
Forces me to my knees.
I only wanted one.
But one was not enough.
Neither was two.
Or the ten that followed two.

I no longer desire to be kissed.
My mind insists that I must be swallowed
Up in your madness, in the sadness
Of this depraved love affair that has turned sour.
I do not know the hour
That I turned from lover to slave.
But I look through blurred, sunken eyes at my reflection
And never have been so afraid.

I am no longer me.
I am not my own.
And who can comprehend the clamor of this confinement?
None. I walk alone
Through the dark corridors –
I reside within the empty walls.
I am an inmate on death row,
Silently drinking my way towards my execution date,
And my executioner will not wait, nor hear my plea.
I shiver in the silence of my cold seduction.
Oh, how I long to break free!
From this madness, this chaos, this never-ending itch
That I can’t stop scratching,
My claws ripping away the flesh of a once decent man.
But he is far gone from me, a monster is what I am.

I don’t want you.
But I need you.
No longer for safety, but to survive.
My love, I am a stumbling corpse,
Barely breathing, barely alive.
Realization reeks like a rotten carcass,
Festering, decaying in swarming summer heat,
Waves of repugnance sweeping me off my feet.

For truth stings sharper than a thousand bees.
Truth, heavier than the weight of the world,
When reality knocks an addict to his knees.
Oh, my sweet friend…
I thought your love was true!
But now I know one is never enough,
And ten will never do.

– Poem Written by Justin Farley


photo credit: into the blue via photopin (license)

One Determined Day At A Time

fruit in the garden of eden

I plucked the pieces of forbidden fruit
and bit into them, ravished by their taste –
devouring the memories my mind
had shielded me from for far too long.

They tasted sweet on the tongue,
left me reminiscing for the days when I was young,
but lingered too long and became bitter –
the winter of my years and life,
so far from who I once was,
days before I was taken under the knife,
the knife that cut me wide open and laid me
vulnerable on the operating table,
making me less human that I already was
like a grotesque monster created among
the darkened shadows of moonlight
thrown across Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory.

I find myself so far disconnected from the man and child
who exists only in my memories,
that I have to squint and rub my glasses clean
just to recognize my face.

It’s been too long since I’ve walked
among Eden’s garden, strolled careless without burden
and absorbed the crisp, warm rays of the sun.
For now I stand outside Eden’s gates,
dueling with the flaming sword,
destined to lose and damned to forever
gaze into the garden and remember its beauty.

I’ve been a captive for too long…
I forget what it’s like to feel free –
to steer my ship into whichever harbor I choose,
to run playfully in the summer breeze
without being tripped or weighed down
by the shackles gripped tight around my feet –
the chains that bind and secure defeat,
defeat who grooms her hair
and presses out the wrinkles in her dress
preparing me before my date with despair.

But I remember the old days,
even if I need to wipe away
the dust to read their dates.
The beauty of life is that it’s never too late
to resist the winds of mighty gales
and the undertow of surging currents
and shake your fists at fate,
one determined day at a time.


 

Photo Credit: weisserstier via Compfight cc