Eyegasms

[Saint]

Destradamus: "Child Soldier"

Da Nang, 1966...
Vietnam - thick mist & debris of bombs,
A 12 year old, fighting along Vietcong,
Since an infant he - has been in fatigue,
Wielding a bayonet for the 2nd infantry,
Emotionless; affection he'll never show,
Cause conflict is, & all he'll ever know,
Oppose the clever foe, battling casually,
You either be: a combatant or casualty,
Complex strategy, but the plans simple,
Using Guerilla tactics, & hand signals,
Ear to the ground...hear many steppin',
Steady weapon - engage at any second,
A twig snaps!...echo of shots are heard,
Followed by a scattering flock of birds,
Stop-observe...checks & kicks a corpse,
Assured by 4 bullets that hit the source,
They pillage through the riddled camo,
For food, weapons, & what little ammo,
Rest is brief, ceased by distant shootin',
Lieutenant insists on persistent moving,
He trudges through thick dense terrain,
Against the grain with no sense of pain,
Covered by rifle aim & defensive range,
Waist deep in creeks & apparel soaked,
Hunting a scent of fear, & barrel smoke,
Dusk looms the horizon....his face damp,
Nearing the base camp, he gave thanks!
The target is close, 10 yards at the most,
14 soldiers asleep...2 guarding the post,
They laid in wait, & crept from the rear,
Their foot steps seemingly def to the ear,
Weapon is clear: in the case of a misfire,
Thats when a comrade hits the trip wire,
"& here I thought we be taking it over!"
The small bomb displacing his shoulder,
Leavin' his mutilated face in a smoulder,
The sudden blast...awakens the soldiers,
Quickly - he shoots, & mangles another,
While foes scatter, & scramble for cover,
Rifle jammed - so he let that pistol spray,
Ducked to hear the ping! of the ricochet,
Grenade blows & allies swept by debris,
All thought drowned out by weaponary,
His heart began racin' as his chest sank,
He saw a barrage shred up his left flank,
Thats when a stray bullet strikes his gut,
& at this point, he knows his night is up,
He clutches his stomach, closes his eyes;
Lying there he...jerks...twitches...dies...

*gun fire fades into the night*

[Saint]

Cimmerian: "Fade Away"

What’s heard is the trade, my words are exchange
For either making a mark or working the stain
Whatever floats your boat, whatever jerks your chain
Rhyme’s a victim of time, I’m a slave to its way
Strolling down memory lane- with a poke of a cane
Now yesterday falls apart into its broken remains
They say life’s a bitch, but I elope with the dame
Cause we can’t do no better, still hoping she’ll change
In love with this past, giving birth in the brain
My verse is a play, so this earth is the stage
Flying with the vibes that inflate on the page
Or drown in the all the color and the shades of gray
I’ll wade the waves just to pave the way
Never silent into the night, so I wrote in the day
With my words and ideas all fading away
My words and ideas all fading away.

[Saint]

ChasinReveries: "In the life of..."

i’ve traversed the world’s ‘surface’ as just another average teen,
who hasn’t seen the hands of fate sew damaged seams
…patched together to bandage me. My trivial quilt of tragedy…
has left me safe, but…I feel like I just have to see the agonies of humanity
introduce my mind to insanity and conduct a soliloquy amongst vanity
sometimes I think I’d rather be a troubled kid so I can experience hardship
and step over obstacles armed with new knowledge to harness…
look ahead and only see darkness...overcome the odds, seal it with a promise
..to never let the ‘other end’ interfere with my conscience…
i only hope my feelings are honest, cus dealin’ with deceit is the last thing I need..
i swear I’d sink to my knees in sync with my pleas, but I just don’t think u’d believe…
cus my life’s a high stakes round of poker, without any players,
a sugar coated topping without any layers,
lacking the flavors to leave me with a delicious remembrance…
tho I savor the moments that can accompany me when I’m livin’ with temperance,
stroking the hips of tenderness smoothly…it soothes me to experience beauty..
but truly, I can’t pretend that I know my way around this awful trend,
of following the footsteps of others…even AFTER the pathways end
I’ll just depend on the fact that tomorrow always lends a helping hand,
while the tides creep up the shore to wash away the sand

"Icy Roads"

I didn't see any rules against posting too many things....trust that i will reply to pieces regularly...

Memories flashed before me, we began to tip slowly..and I closed my eyes..
My clothes were tied to the open side of the car where I broke bones in both my thighs,
My mouth opened wide, as we approached the cliffs and foggy skies,
My body cried when I saw the remanants of the seatbelt in the place where my mommy lied,
Blood painted the windows except in the place where there was a hole.. about my father’s size,
I turned to my sister and couldn’t imagine what this looked like through a toddler’s eyes,
I didn’t bother to try to move in the seat left of me to stop the car…we were spinning to fast
Pieces of glass flew across the car and carved cuts in our backs
Luckily I sat in the front but I couldn’t turn to see what happened to my mom and my dad
The truck had passed but not before swerving and crushing the driver’s side of our car with it’s rear end,
Singing along with christmas songs we all laughed merrily as we came around the bend,
It was winter break so we were going to spend it in the moutains and the cold,
we set out upon these roads to let our exciting vaction unfold,
before we left people spoke of head on collisions when traveling upon icy roads..
I sat shotgun despite all the stories we were told
That’s just me and my conscience, trying to be bold…

Written in reverse order for those who didn't catch that

"Hard to Catch"

My expectations loom high above me,
While I sit below the calm of the storm hoping that she will love me…

You’ve always been out of my league...so I’ve waited for something more,
but perhaps now that I have the time, maybe you’ll give me some of yours?....
…And must you really be so sure, before making another commitment?
Cus u’ve said before that u’d like to stay close, but u still seem so distant
It’s strange how things can change in an instant…tho it’s been ur decision,
To cover ur inhibitions… with make up… and clothing…smiles, sins and religion..
but I uncovered you…all the parts that were hidden…
a peaceful glow came from behind the clouds…and u were no longer imprisoned.
the sun had risen…broken through… u were scared shitless…cus it was only you
…and your imperfections…so I decided to take a chance, cus I was lonely too
I knew what u were going through…but… now im hooked,
left with no escape… roped and shook…cus I took the bait..
I was too late...spent to long deciding, and u just couldn’t wait,
but I can live with that...i’ll believe in fate and whatever else works,
so I can erase my slate of regrets…and all this pain that fuckin’ hurts,
nothing feels worse… I'll wait though, I’ve grown used to it over time,
I’ll be around, dreaming you up in my mind…
cus my only hope is holding on to fantasy … where I know that you are mine.

[Saint]

Desenut§ - "Influential Mom"

Topic: choose someone you could honestly say influences you, bad or good, explain why he/she is so important to your life and the decisions you make, be creative


She gave me life... birthed my self worth..
suckled me into silence and cured my welped hurts..
Steered me from the violence of words that bent verbs..
into action items to scurge my flesh worse..
than the hottest fires of hells darkest circles..
though she ran with a clan whose intent was to hurt those..
who might be weaker.. though in reality..
thier co-dependency.. was thier weakness in relief..
let me tell a tale.. of a mother and her love..
no better yet..
I'll tell a tale.. of a mother and her son..

Mom and Dad.. were both bad.. a product of the sixties..
with the tendencies of hippies.. and the habbits of addicting..
to any substance that's within reach.. from weed to heroine..
and so they'd burrow in.. to the cycles of thier sin..
always constant arguments.. remembered at the age of 3..
Dad would hit mom.. till I would intercede..
too young to really speak.. but my grief was common place..
and easy for them to read.. as it was written on my face..
the tear stained rivlets delved with grace.. through the dirt upon my cheeks..
leaving in stained relief.. what I couldn't really speak..
it'd stop them dead into thier heat.. as they raced towards a finish..
that would involve bruises left for weeks.. and swollen spoken sentence..
but this isn't what has been missed.. or impactfull in my life..
It really just set the stage.. for the next place filled with stryfe..
Mom eventually took flight.. and escaped with proginy..
to the coast and ocean shores.. to the north of San Jose..
Yes we got away.. but really nothing changed..
as mom was still stuck in the game.. neglecting me for her to gain..
another release from the pain.. a bag of weed... speed.. or best coke..
and quickly she took the leap.. to vein'd extacty.. instead of nose..
Addiction gained a tighter hold.. as I grew old enough to fathom..
Momma rarely spoke the truth.. too confused by cokes orgasm..
She refused to face her phantoms.. and that was passed straight on to me..
As I took my claimed birth rights.. to twist the truth habitually..
I learned to use it frequently.. till the day came.. that she slipped..
and I gained the upper hand planned a vacation Well.. really a guilt trip..
I had anything.. with just a quip.. and I could see it in her eyes..
so she phoned my father up.. couldn't compete with me.. in lies..
My Dad saved me from that life.. and my mother.. got the summers..
and with each day that I grew older.. I'd gain more of her number..
She's 48 coming up this month, her MO hasn't changed a bit..
She still parties.. just not as much.. and still lies about the shit..
So influential? yeah.. a bit.. a lesson.. in what NOT to do..
but still it hurts... not to believe.. when a MOM says "I love you"
Too many times.. Me n Mines been screwed.. for money.. housing.. or just a ride..
and each time the lies subside.. a bit more love inside me dies..
I struggle with my pride.. choose not to hate her.. be a man..
But the roughest road.. is still to hoe.. for she got pregnant.. yes.. unplanned..
about 5 years ago this Jan.. to cut her off? it's not an option..
For my brother Cameron.. would pay the cost..just as much.. and much more often..
So until she's in a coffin.. I keep her close.. won't let her run..
so someday.. I might just raise.. my brother up.. as my own son..

[Saint]

Envy: "Lukewarm Skytalker"

a cryin shame my lost identity's, just tryin' to hold it down...
i'm compelled to abandon all amenities; my head's too swollen for a crown.
i went from ogre to a clown... livin' days on center stage...
entranced within a haze, only to realize that i had drowned.
now just how did this go down? i thought i had it all figured out.
...von dutch-sponsored wardrobes are bound to hold some clout...
now i'm wrestlin' with doubt... observing what it's all about...
have the masses been misled? can the peasants brave the drout?
from the graces of my couch... i vow to leave it all behind...
it's hard to capture beauty... with billboards on our minds...
now if the rest are all inclined,... come join me in some mischief...
life can drive you livid based solely on the point that you've lived it.
red lights across the district... whores and scattered dreams...
i've got scores of tattered jeans to adorn a battered self-esteem...
i'm just tryin' to gather steam... so i can cleanse all this bullshit...
leave lather in the streams and preach to all the fish in my pulpit.
it's hard to find a pull switch... before the wrinkles start to set...
strugglin' with debts lies a world of martyred silhouettes.
persist and we'll forget... all the ugliness we worship...
a rebellion for the 'little guy' to give him the status that he's thirsted.
and for the shells that we've been cursed with... toss'em into the gorge.
spew the rage through a ball-point 'til beautiful imagery forms...
positive self image restored... can mean a sweeter sentence.
a pocket full of breathing air might defeat this bitter tension...
but i'll leave it all unmentioned... and let the herd dwindle on...
clutching a fistful of vengeance to hurl at the scourge 'til it's gone...

[Saint]

Slot Machine: "The Man with No Name"

The lone Vaquero, the desert’s only hero
Standing at the end of the smoking barrel
In dusty chaps and an old sombrero
Picking my teeth with a broken arrow
While I walk with that- wild west bravado
Living the lonely life of a desperado
Gunslinger, one finger to my best revolver
Running from the law on my chestnut bronco
It’s the western motto, I’m wanted dead or alive
Cuz I don’t back down once I get in a fight
It’s a measure of pride, no one’s a faster draw
My hand at my holster will be your last hurrah
Roaming the plains, I make my home on the range
Sleeping with the stars and a smoldering flame
The man with no name, God knows what’ll come next
Waiting for the day I ride into the sunset

[Saint]

Philo: "Identity Crisis" (..daring society to read)

This muggle snuggles in with fiction, close knit diction relieves the anguish
of trying to manage studying language, when the rest of society's canned it
See I'm candid in my writing, citing thoughts to keep in check
projected purely onto paper so to get direct respect
My thoughts I must collect, but my thoughts are who I am
so I collect myself to unleash me unto the page again
we've self taught thought in words, cost incurred? the loss of abstract
then society lost its backpack while trying to get its hat back
and language began to unpack -- 26 symbols to rule them all
punctuation fluctuation introduced to bring flow to falls
still these bigheads have the gall, to tout my studies superfluous
but I'll further get murderous with incestuous economists
who fear identity and the want to live and hide behind possessions
the only want I want, is to leave a self impression
but I can't impress myself and expect to learn my lessons
cause I learn from the roots up, and it eventually starts nesting
I twist words and it's a blessing... If money taught I'd make a purchase
but my self-worth is priceless... and therefore rendered worthless