Archive for the ‘poetry’ Tag
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
Iām 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 dictionary
But 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 pride
Because 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 tolerance
Oh, 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 wrong
I 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 martyr
But 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 pursuits
They died by misguided hate
A monster killed them
So show some respect for the dead
They have families that loved them
They have friends that miss them
They have children who mourn them
They have lovers who lost them
I know the outrage is real, but please wait
At least a day
And show some respect to the dead
Give them your thoughts
Give them your prayers
Give them your sympathies
Give them your tears
The 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
I know my time is short;
I’m a ticking clock.
An author writing a book
Trying not tear it up.
It may not be today
But the time’s not far away
One day I’ll throw it all away
And so I write to fight myself
Toil and create to spite myself
There needs to be something left of me
Something of mine they get to see
My legacy , my memory
The history of this insanity
This essence that’s uniquely me.
– Shaman Romney 2016
“I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory”
That line resonates with me.
Does is symbolize my life’s futility?
Or does the specter of death drive a person to their destiny?
I’ll never make history
I won’t be on money, the worlds already forgotten me
Even though I show a certain proclivity
All I see is dust on my skills, my talents, on me.
Do I resign to be abandoned, alone?
Give up on life, be shut in at home?
Neglect the skills I’ve taken years to hone
Until I wither to dust and bone?
No! I’ve decided I’m going to take my shot.
Insecurities, fears; yeah I have a lot.
But even if I miss, and get forgotten
It better than letting it all turn rotten
I don’t want to quit, I want to keep trying
and get busy living, but there’s no denying
that I think way too much about dying
But I think that hides my underlying
Will to survive
My will to thrive
My fitful drive
to stay alive.
– Shaman Romney 2016
P.S: Listening to too much Hamilton? No such thing. š
Let’s cut through the platitudes
The sweet talk, the attitudes
All the false talk and lies that don’t matter to you
Don’t ignore the darker skies
Look in front of your eyes
I think it’s time you realize
No one is ever going to change, unless they want to
And the more that you try, the more he’ll walk upon you
With all the things you’ve already been through
You don’t deserve it
I think its time he heard it
I think it’s time for you to take a stand
You’re not a stepping stone
You should be walking hand in hand
I know its hard
I see the love in your heart
But you got to start
To stop his abuse
I know you want to try, its no use
I know that you want to refuse
The truth
But I don’t think he will ever get better
– Shaman Romney 2016
Shame on The Universe 