Angry poetry

As most people that know me know, my family is going through a HORRIBLE year. It all started with our HOA, then the insurance company, then came a lawsuit, a settlement at mediation, and now, an arbitration because everything that came before was a lie. When you've done nothing wrong and do all that you can to fight for what's right, you don't always win and you lose a lot (money, time, relationships, communication, sleep, dinner) along the way. I've always been passionate but never have I been so motivated. I used to say I'd like to change the world. Now I know I will change the world for the better. In the mean time, here's some poetry that describes how I feel most days lately...a bit of imagery to help you understand why I break down from time to time.

6/8/10
A demon descends unto the location
Finds a crack in the homes’ foundation.
It begins with a scream, a scratch, then the fight
The soul battles hatred, anger, and spite.
The body bares bruises, burns, and pains,
Tears follow lines on the face that they stain,
No one around can hear the screams in the skull
Muffled by claws and cold fingers of ghouls
The tongue is drawn out from the purple lips
Body’s cold, soul drained, and veins drip.
The breath in the lungs withdrawn in a gasp
As the demon sucks life from she in his grasp.


In Your Eyes
1/2/07
In your eyes
The dirt under my nails and the circles under my eyes tell you I’m a poor laborer.
In your eyes
This fact makes me worthless, thus you can’t associate with me because of how I make a living.
In your eyes
I will never amount to anything, nothing more than a servant with pride for you to walk upon.
In your eyes
Your elite status gives you rights, rights which infringe upon others and you expect me to bow to you.
In my eyes
I’m respected because I work hard and I make ends meet, and I understand the meaning of a dollar.
In my eyes
I’m a productive member of society for those who do not need to work and I’m grateful for the ability.
In my eyes
Without me and people with reliable dedication like me, you would have nothing, because then you’d have to start to work.


This one was written to describe how I feel about the HOA president and the Farmer's Insurance lawyer.

6/8/10

I’ve seen the devil, seen how she walks among us. It’s not as history and folklore would have you believe; no horns, no fire, no hell. Just an ordinary body filled with the evil that all the God-fearing people fear more than God himself, wreaking havoc on the good for what seems to be no reason at all. And once you’ve been touched by the devil, you can never erase the experience; it is embedded in your soul, imprinted in your memories, and cause for the sleepless nights that will come for eternity. Most don’t know she’s there; she seems to be one of them. They forget that they are vulnerable and weak when faced with her temptation, unable to reason or comprehend once they’ve been caught in her grasp. They will never be good again.
It all started one rainy, cold night, as all horror stories do. And with good reason. The danger that lurks in the dark finds you when you’ve been deserted, in empty streets, during a blackout caused by hurricane force winds and torrential rains, lost without someone to hold your hand. It won’t arrive as a knock at the door or a phone call, no shadows in the corner waiting for you to walk nervously by. She finds you when you reach out for help when you have no direction after she's seeped through the ceiling and down the inside of the walls. We’ve been taught to trust the warm, caring woman who will comfort us. We’ve got it all wrong. She hides the dagger behind her back, waiting for you to lean into her grasp for safety before she slides it slowly down your spine.
Then what you ask? You wither and writhe on the floor, staring at the claws tucked neatly in her polished heels, the skin taut and aged over the bones from those she has picked apart in order to gain strength to feed on the next soul in her sight. As she reaches into your chest with her long, jagged nail she pricks the lining of your lungs. Your breath slowly escapes into her reach. She inhales as you realize you cannot fill your lungs and begin to panic, breathe quicker, sweat from your palms and tear at your eyes. You will see her smile and the true figure hiding inside the ordinary woman will appear. Glance quickly as it will end soon.
You will see the hair turn from shiny black to coarse and ragged, the skin turn from smooth to wrinkled, battered, and seeping blood. The blue eyes will begin to glow red and the once straight teeth will become jagged and black with disease. Her gums will bleed and her tongue will fork as it slithers from her mouth to taste your soul exiting your body. Try to forget before you close your eyes, as the nightmare is anything but. From now on you will survive in her grasp, in pain, a puppet in her grand scheme hanging from nails through your limbs attached to burning wires, searing you from the inside out. Every breath will be filled with smoking flesh and your ears will ring from your fellow puppets screams.
Dare not to fall asleep as she will jerk you awake by entering your dreams, her laugh permeating your ear drums, vibrating them until they bleed and your eyes once again open in terror, only to find that you never were asleep, merely unconscious from the painful tearing of your skin. Your body will soon die from shock and torture. How lucky you feel briefly, only to realize that your soul remains forever in a tomb she has decorated with your blood, your good memories forever drained into a cauldron she uses to swirl your dreams into nightmares. She will remove a bone from your skeleton before laying it into a box of fire and insert it into hers as a memento of the agony she caused. Your spirit will drift away as she leaves you to haunt others’ memories of you, forever ruining what good you once had. And unlike the other stories, there will be no happy ending. You will never awaken.