Destinations: Poetry, Pros, and Creative Writing

Mt. Consequence

Mt. Consequence

The peaks of the Mountain stand tall.
Climbing the Mountain seems cynical.
Each step taken is another life put at stall.
Every rock that is scaled is ironical.
Dissonance screams through the valleys as the pain mauls.
Planting the flag at the peak is inimical.
With the ascent complete the world is in thrall.
Every move made has a consequence and when overlooked it causes insolence.
That's why climbing Mt. Consequence is detrimental.

Insidious Medieval Comparisons 

I've heard whispers of a deathless war, one fought with words instead of swords.
Warriors laden in spirals of dialect rather than pounds of pleated iron meant to protect.
Fighting from podiums littered with history, nothing about this resembles the battlefield misery.
Riding on the backs of thoroughbred ideas, finding the righteous stallions echoing in lias.
Colleagues can protect your character with rules, while the circular discs of metal may leave you in a duel.
Elected rulers strictly lead with inferior means, while promoted generals leave their enemies to die in Demosthenes means.
I've heard whispers of a deathless war, one fought with words instead of swords.

Home

The place I live is called an Island
Yet the description doesn't fit the land
The feeling of isolation is apparent
Leaving the people working two jobs to be a parent
No messages have to be carved in the sand for us to be saved
We could save ourselves by just driving away
The Island has us stuck and depraved
The outside calls upon us with it's convincing sway
To grow up on this Island is to grow up alone
Friends turn to enemies from the quietists of whispers
Even if you manage to escape the hauntings, this town will follow you like a drone
Tomorrow you might see an escape but if you try and make it you will alert the Island's whiskers.
My home is not an Island but it's called a grand one.
My home is not where I want to grow old.
My home is a snare and I don't think I will escape the metal claws.
My home is where dreams and aspirations are created just to die.
Will I ever be saved from my home?

The Giant

A judgment lies at the edge of the forest
Morals are examined for blemishes
The Home of the Giant serves as the citadel of decisions
Men who think they lived life with no consequence come for there ruling
The Giant will examine all blemishes from the largest to the smallest
Men think they are safe because there morals come from their parishes
The Giant doesn't take kindly to a men who creates divisions
Listening to the ignorant pleas cause the Giant to despise this task that is grueling
After a few brief thoughts the verdict is in
The Giant decided that no man is worthy of his sanctuary
The Giant exclaims
"Man has destroyed too much, dived too many and hated too freely. My sanctuary is only open to those who love without question. Not those who love but with endless conditions."
The Giant slams its gavel causing man to be forbidden from the sanctuary.
Righteousness isn't derived from power. Instead it's derived from what you can do for others.

The Broken Woman

A dynasty of repetition leaves the woman in ruin
Lovely gestures morph into venomous lectures
The woman's trust remains stagnant sitting in the inn
Building towering mansions of affection with precise architecture

His presence feels like a comforting rug
Smirking with vicious intent he isn't afraid to pull it out from under her
His manipulation crawls down his expressionless mug
Comfort was obliterated quickly leaving her in a relentless burr

She is no damsel in distress, with her broken prowess
Saviors run to assist in rekindling her disrupted trust
She cuts the string to the buoy they threw to her helplessness
There cheers weren't needed so they left her in the dust

Footnotes of past grievances and mishaps rule her mind
She interprets them as insidious nips on her character
Distinctions between mistakes and success are overlooked by her kind
She droops in sorrow setting herself free by signing the death waiver

A simple dedication to a being not worthy of it can leave you distraught
Worth isn't decided by manipulated fallacies, it's decided by passionate actions and that is a lesson that should be taught.

Loyalty

Yea I struggle with loyalty. People want to paint me evil. As if I'm some sort of corrupted angel. When I kissed his lips my spirit started to rise. It raised me into a high of sexuality that far surpasses any sort of drug. He isn't the only one who can trigger this high. I crave it like a drug. Maybe it is a drug. It's within my genome to want to suck him till he's dry. Then passionately make love with someone else. It doesn't mean I don't love him. It means I love more than just him. To society I am a traitor and a cheater, but to the nature of the world I am embracing my inner animal. I'm a mammal and it's rare for a mammal to be monogamous. So leave me be. As the only thing I'm truly loyal too is my primal sexual instincts.