I walked down the street and cried
As I passed her grave
Unmarked, rotten, and ant riddled.
Her life cut short, her wings clipped
She learned to fly. Learned to fall.
A life without purpose,
At least the one she wanted.
Now she feeds the ants instead.
– Shaman Romney 2016
Never meet your idols. They’re better in your mind.
You’ll find they’ll never live up to the image you’ve designed.
You might get lucky, and realize they’re just human.
They might think you are cool, and you could gain a great friend.
But most likely they just smile and walk away.
You came on far too strong
Like the thousands of other fans they meet everyday.If I met my idol, he’d pretend to be my friend
But in the end, at best he’d forget me
At worse, he’d regret meeting me.
I’m a reminder of the life he might have led
If he didn’t have the guts to tackle his problems
And pursue his dreams.So I’ll remain idle in my idol worship
Ideally, I’ll never meet any of them.
-Shaman Romney 2016
Pitter patter
My thoughts scatter
Like rain drops in my mind
A constant torrent that won’t relent
At best my mind is like Seattle
At worst its a monsoon
It’s like I live in a steel roofed house
Eventually all the metallic static
Becomes synonymous with silence
Most of my ideas get lost in the flood waters
I’m only left with the biggest, the best, the worst
Imagine what I could do
If I wasn’t mostly water.
If I was filled with sunny days
And springtime weather.
-Shaman Romney 2016
It’s quiet here in the clutter of my room
But BOOM there is thunder in my mind’s confines
And POP something drops from the top of the shelf
I pick it up, I write it down so it’ll make a sound
Like CRASH as I smash it into a line
Now that looks fine; something that I can call mine
And DING hear it ring the timer says time to finish up
But no, my mind doesn’t think it’s enough
So POW hear it now as I’m messing it up
I keep meddling, back peddling. It’s not enough
I SCREAM as I dream of the perfect line
Hiding in the back of my mind and so I mine
My delusions of grandeur, I’m looking for gold
No matter how hard I swing, CRACK, I bring up coal
I’m tired of always digging, but I have to keep at it
Otherwise my mind will devolve into static
-Shaman Romney 2016
I want an addiction to proper diction
No friction between my words as I pick them
Flowing slick as I quickly slide them
From inside and drop them for you to see
Like seashells, sitting on the seashore
For you to admire, I desire that satisfaction
Even if I only receive a fraction.They need to sound consistent, unique,
The transition of constants and consonants
Needs to lack resistance no matter how much
The words smash and crash into each other
In a tidal wave of dissonance and discordance
These dissidents of English will be brought to confluence
By my mastery of clarity and the dictionaryBut on the contrary, right now it is scary
That I only have a passing skill, and nary the time
To pass on asking myself to task myself
With attacking the assonance and rhythm
Of poetry, knowing that I am an amateur,
Unsure of myself and of my place
But I will face this challenge with prideBecause inside, I’ll confide that I hide
The heart of a lion, which I’ll start to show
With more sincerity, as this disparity I’ve displayed
Has left me dismayed, but I wont be dissuaded
In fact, I’m elated that this fear has abated
I created, with little conflict or object
This poem to finally addict me to proper diction.
-Shaman Romney 2016
I need my biggest dreams
To be my fondest memories.
I want my life to put my death to shame.
I don’t want my last refrain
To be one of regret, one of disdain.
I want my legacy to be something unfathomable,
Something no one has ever thought of,
The answer to a question we don’t know to ask yet.I can’t convince myself to accept anything less.
Unless I meet my higher standard,
I do not deserve to stand with pride.
I cannot understand a half placed effort,
Being comforted with less than perfection
Is a perfect misdirection of your true purpose:
To leave a permanent mark on the world
And better it for your fellow man.
-Shaman Romney 2016
You don’t get to preach violence and hate,
And then regret it when you get it.
Their deaths are on your plate.
Yet you have the gall to celebrate
5 deaths, 2 deaths, any death is too many
You lose any respect from me when you hop on twitter
And spout hate speech in the name of toleranceOh, you’re frustrated? I am too.
In fact, I was on your side until I saw what you say and do
The things you say hit strong, that’s fine
That’s not the problem
The issue is when you pervert the truth
Take something right, and turn it wrongI don’t care who you represent
All lives, blue lives, or black lives matter
When blood is shed in your name, we all get splattered
You’re supposedly above this, you’re supposed to be an example
But with this, all you’re doing is trampling on the efforts
Of the people out there who are trying to do good.Please don’t prove the demagogues right.
Don’t give ammunition to their bigotry; their fear.
What you are doing is a good way to blow it all up.
You say you’re standing for love, so show it.That should be enough.
– Shaman Romney 2016
I know he used a gun
I know he was a Muslim
I know he wanted to be a cop
I know he wanted to be martyrBut don’t shout all this at me,
Just stop.
Show some respect for the dead.They didn’t die for your Muslim ban
They didn’t die for your gun control
They didn’t die for your party
They didn’t die for your political pursuitsThey died by misguided hate
A monster killed them
So show some respect for the deadThey have families that loved them
They have friends that miss them
They have children who mourn them
They have lovers who lost themI know the outrage is real, but please wait
At least a day
And show some respect to the deadGive them your thoughts
Give them your prayers
Give them your sympathies
Give them your tearsThe time to debate and argue will come
But for now
Please show some respect for the dead
– Shaman Romney 2016
What happened to companionship?
To platonic friends?
In this age of polyamory,
Of promiscuity, pan-sexuality and pornography
Is it impossible to just befriend someone?
Embracing them, and not their genitals?
I have no problem with romantic love,
But there is so much more to life.
So don’t force my friends and I into a cage
Calling your restrictions openness.
I am free from your bonds and bondage:
I am liberated, alone yet loved.
– Shaman Romney 2016
Words have a certain flow, a music to them
You can’t escape it easily
Whether you’re rhyming sublimely
Or speaking frankly
The euphonious rhythm ekes out a space in your ear
And you can’t help but move along
To the song of life.
– Shaman Romney 2016
Shame on The Universe 