The Prince and The Beast

This is the original poem that was previously posted in Greek. 

How could I expect her to see the prince

When the beast can trick God into believing

No number of hail marys can take away the hurt

There’s holes. I’m hollow.  Alone and afraid of me. 

I flinch at my shadow.

He laughs and tells me to relax.

I change, but I’m the same.

I am strong. But the weak wind devours my soul.

I am awake. Why did I ever want wake up?

In my dreams there were no holes, there’s no fear.

The sum vectors of my choices thrust me into the third quadrant. 

Nothing positive that isn’t tripled by the negative. 

I once played the prince, I stood tall then.

I once looked at the beast with pity. 

He just looked at me and smiled.

I have given into this beast inside of me

I just let him throw everything away at will

I watch, intrigued, as he drives stakes through my chest

I smile politely and say nothing is wrong. 

Holes. Hollow. Alone. Afraid.

Ο πρίγκιπας και το Τέρας

Πώς θα μπορούσε Περιμένω να δει τον πρίγκιπα
Όταν το θηρίο να εξαπατήσει το Θεό να πιστέψει
Δεν αριθμός των «Λ. Μαρίας» μπορεί να πάρει μακριά το κακό
Υπάρχει τρύπες. Είμαι κούφια. Μόνος και φοβάται εμένα.

Έχω δειλιάζουν στον σκιά μου.
Γελάει και μου λέει να χαλαρώσει.
Μπορώ να αλλάξω, αλλά είμαι το ίδιο.

Είμαι ισχυρός. Όμως, η αδύναμη άνεμος τρώει την ψυχή μου.
Είμαι ξύπνιος. Αχ γιατί σ 'ξυπνήσω;
Στα όνειρά μου δεν υπήρχαν τρύπες, δεν υπάρχει φόβος.

Το άθροισμα των φορέων στα εδάφη της ζωής μου με το τρίτο τεταρτημόριο.
Θετική Τίποτα δεν ότι δεν είναι τριπλασιάσθηκε από το αρνητικό.

Έπαιξα μια φορά τον πρίγκιπα, στάθηκα ψηλός τότε.
Κάποτε κοίταξε το τέρας με οίκτο.
Απλώς κοίταξε και χαμογέλασε.

Νιώθω σαν να έχουν δώσει σε αυτό το τέρας μέσα μου
Όπως και αν εγώ απλά τον αφήσει να τρέξει μακριά με τη ζωή μου
Εγώ βλέπω, κέντρισε το ενδιαφέρον, δεδομένου ότι οδηγεί πασσάλους μέσαστο στήθος μου
Χαμογελώ ευγενικά και να πω τίποτα δεν είναι λάθος.
Τρύπες. Hollow. Μόνος. Φοβάται.

Γάμα τον κόσμο. Να πάρει στην κόλαση.

Irrational Fear

The mind, a black hole ^of irrational fears

^{Our actions}, _vain without the veil ^of irrational thought

Vision clears when irrationality’s spectacles _are worn

Then once seen we can never rationally forget this…

^{Irrational fears} need _{irrational answers}

For in the mind ^{no other answer} can truly _be thought

We all in irrationality ^and superstition reside

^{Until at last we} _{give in to the} ^sightless _rationality

That ^{frees us} from the weight ^of _irrational ^insanity_!

A Stranger in My Mirror

A stranger in my mirror

The mind a chaotic hurricane

This stranger that I see they made.

Unrelenting tears drip from my chin

They wet the shirt I never liked nor wanted to wear.

The hurricane of unwanted memories begins to clear.

Blue sky of change lies within my reflection’s steady hand.

A perfect shiny day

No more Them, no more They.

The freedom to act like me and not be pushed away.

I take from his hand my clear blue day.  A gun!

Like Thomas I doubt this could truly be.

Hot steel heavy in trembling hand, what can I see?

My chaotic mind stops and accepts the thought.

Hurricane’s rains fall hard from my face,

The edge of this storm, my blue day, waiting just ahead.

With the pull of the trigger I could be what they never expected.

                                                                                                                 Me.

Two Years

I miss it everyday

In every possible way

Two years well spent

How fast they came and went!

I miss Them all the time

Even if they gave me Mayo with lime!

I wish I was still there

Then life would not so err

I miss how I used to feel

The spirit was oh so real!

A white shirt and an ugly tie

My best friend by my side

I miss the miracles I saw

How I could speak with no flaw

And life was so blissful and right

Now I have to use all my might

I miss it everyday

In every possible way

Two years well spent

Others don’t know how much they meant

Who is this Man?

Who is this man, torn and broken?
Forgotten, spit upon, heart broken
Thought of not and cast aside
Oh, how could one abide?
Crying and pleading evermore
Feebly falling to the floor
Looking hopefully to his side
For that Man that´ll ever guide.
Paying the Price to help the Heathen
Crying for fear to never ´gain see´em.

Who was this man who had to learn?
Line upon line he´d ever yearn.
Looking for that to come.
Yet mocked for being ever too young.
Never able to escape the Pagan
He hungered for that glorious Haven.
Knowing exactly who he´d become
With all that in between long gone.
Yet in his heart would ever burn
For that Truth he´d yet to earn.


On the Mount this man shall stand.
With all his might he´ll break the band
Of the death which holds him tight
Ever dispersing the True Light
The Man of Christ to hold his Cross
Yet never able to see across
The veil of God which holds his sight.
Paying the Price of a Widow´s Mite.
And with all his might, he can
Help those who dwell within his Hand.

And through the Looking Glass I see
That this man was always me!
Even through all the pain and guile
I can see it was worth my while.
And all that I must surly know
Never learned before life´s first snow.
Yet that Abiding Man to guide
He´ll pull me gently to His side,
And to my Soul His words intone
“Well done my Son, for Thee I did Atone”

Addiction's Peak

Heart racing faster than a hummingbird's wings. A click.

Empty and hopeless your eyes fix on the unclean screen.
A mountain of smut that begs you to climb
The higher you climb the more numb your heart becomes
The carnal within starts to over power and win

Blood red hands from the rocks that cant hold you back
The duplicitous heart begins to calm
From the refreshing dark night, the damning screen's glow.
Nothing more familiar can stop the tick of the clock
At mountain's edge.  At Addiction's Peak!

No going back, still no assault of regret.
Secretive. Unscrupulous you remain

Off the edge you fly, or is it that you fall?

Before the screen grows dim, tremors begin.

Hurried hands, a climb's memory must erase

The numbness fades, a loathsome crippled heart remains!
Imploding regret!  A mountain's weight constant on your chest.
You push the mountain far from your mind.
Yet always remember its trailhead, ready fro another climb.