I Am Moving On, A Poem by Eddie Myles, Jr.

I’ll tattoo your name on my sarcophagus
I’ll you give you gifts, if you grant my wish
Step-by-step and inch-by-inch
This is a power - that does not flinch

When mine is bright and yours is dark
A cannon only needs one spark
These worlds ignite and souls collide
The black is white and it’s grey inside

I met you once and I knew right then
There’d be a conflict between two men
Our minds are strong but our will is weak
And you knew the answers my soul would seek

It wasn’t right and I paid the price
I loved you once and I did so thrice
Now I’m a man with few regrets
The past is done and I do not fret

Then sometimes, when my heart’s not strong
I start to think that you’re where I belong
Still, all that absence is so stressful
Hearts aren’t fonder, just forgetful

So don’t give me movies, don’t give me songs
No pleading words that go on and on
Sometimes love can stand the test of time
But that’s not the case about yours and mine
 
After all these years and the time that’s passed
We were meant to be - just not to last

“Wake up,” a spoken word poem by Eddie Myles Jr

Our Town, A Poem by Eddie Myles, Jr.

Everyone has memories of the place they were born. For me, while I wasn’t born there, my home town has a lot of significance. Some of the worst things I’ve ever suffered through happened there. It’s the place I made the most enduring of all my friendships. It’s a place that many people have knocked or looked down on - especially after they made a mess of their lives and moved away. But for me, it’s a good place. It’s the place that shaped me and gave me the foundation I needed to venture out in the world. I was born in Harlem and NYC has always been where I wanted to live, it’s in my blood. But Middletown, NY is where I was raised and it’s a part of me to this day.

I remember all the things we used to do

Like cutting math class, dissecting frogs and shooting hoops – just to name a few

We used to be wild things back then

Full of dreams but still trying to fit in

Obsessed with waiting for the moment when

Our lives would start and we’d leave the block and both those parks

Behind, but not our roots and the place that made us after dark

We used to be so Happy, sipping Remy when we Whispered

With Mary and the Class when the moon would Eclipse

Roll the windows down in your ride when you pass by the circle and dip

To the side cause that was fly, one handed in your new whip

On line early for that fade on a Friday, or the day before the first one of school

Have to be edged up tight if you wanna be cool

We used to rock overalls, polka dots and Docs and even Reeboks

I used to rock a flat top, a triple fat, an Africa medallion and what not

Times were simpler but they felt complicated

Back when your sex life consisted of the times you masturbated

Until those first summers on the court - and them daisy duke shorts

Nine months after that a lot of lives were lost

We didn’t grow up fast, most of us could wait

Some of our cousins and brothers lost to slinging that weight

And a few of our mothers lost to that one dude

Our town may be small but we got our psychos too

But it’s all good and the strong still survive

The town didn’t birth all of us but it sure helped us thrive

It taught us how to dance and how to be fly

Gave us romance and the courage to try

New things, now and then, and the wings to move on

Nodding our heads to the beat of some song

And though we move away and make other lives now that we’re grown

Respect always due to the place we all call home

In This, Our Life, A Poem by Eddie Myles, Jr.

So much happens over the course of a lifetime. Each person’s story is different but there are always similarities of existence. For me, the journey of life is a difficult one. I see it as dismal, dark and painful. I fault religiosity for much of that. Still, I’m not an atheist. In any event, there was a John Huston film staring Bette Davis (among others) of the same name. I suppose that was the inspiration for this poem although I didn’t realize it until after I finished. I’m a huge Bette Davis fan and while not in my top five, the movie (which was based on a Pulitzer Prize winning book of the same name) deals with a destructive sibling rivalry. There is wealth, loss, love, betrayal and all things human. It’s also a film that dealt rather truthfully with the realities of racial discrimination in the USA and for that reason it was denied an international release at the time. But I digress…



You only get so many chances and there are but so few amends
People don’t get second chances, oh so rare those second winds
Bodies do not get much better, only older and then decay
Minds do not get any sharper only dull to much dismay
Therefore, you must choose wisely - within this, our life
Because the time is finite and the future not so bright

Falter now with mayhem bring the violence in with teeth
Gouge the eyes of sorrow turn them outward, underneath
A vision never clearer than the one, in this, our life
We build such sacred places yet our tool remains the knife
Of braver souls and foolish hearts you’ll not quite ever know
For in the minds’ recesses live regrets and burdens grow

But do please hold, these little children as they breathe with iron lungs
Be they symbols of damnation as with us they walk among
You shed false tears and pretend to bleed, from an artificial heart
These idols make decisions by which this, our life, is torn apart
A pain too great for normal things like vicodin and whiskey
The sacrifice of first-born sons is one I carry with me

And so it is, just as it was and like it always would be
Trees still grow and rain still falls and new born babies “could be”
You and I we aren’t so different of defect we’re bred the same
For while the sword we wield is mighty it comes down in but one name
But betrayal still has left undone the image in the mirror
And doth reflect a second man the third be merely shimmer
These ancient claws rip flesh from bone the false ones feel the strife
All such things the record holds, be true - in this, our life

Substance, A Poem by Eddie Myles, Jr.

I learned once that things like race are really just an illusion. And illusion is the bread and butter of a poem:

You were a distant acquaintance - I’d known you for some time through some people

When you first caressed my lips, things moved too fast and I gave myself quickly

I recall when I was a boy I had to taste your brown sugar like the other guys did

I remember how you smelled, how you tasted – I used to breathe you in

I flirted with you as a child consumed by peer pressure but you had no real effect

And like romance between teenagers, ours was short-lived

I decided to wait to become a man

Like a lot of us, I became intrigued by the white ladies

The alabaster skin and powdery complexion

I dealt with higher maintenance, and the need to hide my desire from the world

But I liked the upper-class status, the late-night clubs and after lounges

Things seemed to move faster with them and since the brown things never moved me

I had to come to terms with my illicit jungle fever

Eventually, my lungs got more involved and I liked the release

Little happy girls and boys blurring the lines between faith and trust

In a way, friends aren’t that much to give up when you’re in love

But I couldn’t love outside my race and now not even within

I moved on from that but I’m not mad and I really feel no shame

I explored the light and darker worlds and built my truth that way

Destruction

Not sure what I can say about this one other than some times emotions build up in response to something you can’t process or deal with. For me, I’ve never been able to talk but it seems I can always write. Now that I’m an adult, I am much more communicative but as a teenager - when this particular piece takes place - not so much.

I want you to destroy me, I want you to learn,

I want you to consume me, I want you to burn

And when you reach inside me, take the time to look,

Rest your gaze upon me and take my soul just like a crook

Never disregard me, respect for what you decimate

The scar you opened on me, a wound has never been so great

If what you’ve done is what you think I fear your new world order

For what you’ve done and what you’ve left remains beyond my border

There’s a crime built into passion and a strength built into fear

In a place this wouldn’t happen, at a time that isn’t clear

The things that do remain, they are things of yesterday

The bones they are left broken and their dust is swept away

I like knives, the way they hurt, and open up a vein

Memorialize me, at that age, and I will stay the same

There is no angst like after 12, and shortly before 20

In fits and spurts it opens up a path that may be many

When I’m bored I feast on scraps and clever antidotes

I’ll die three times and lie once more just to see you choke

And even as the sky is black, these words are held in violet

Fear him most, a man destroyed, who never tries to hide it

Glory

One of the most contradictory aspects of life is love and relationships. I am quite interested in the relationship between power, anger, love, trust and honesty. The desire to rule verses the requirement to respect the object of your affection. I am not a religious person, but there is something spiritual that goes on between two people, in my opinion. Again, that contrast and conflict is a theme I continually explore.

You caught me between lifetimes - and you knew my moon

Instantly attracted, it never felt too soon

Opposites attract, but rising always wins

Your nature took me places, my mind had never been

Though it seemed that your affection, just wasn’t all that true

I guess I turned my blind eye, as men in love so often do

Because when I reveal my spirit, I do so through and through

When you make the wrong choice, bitter consequence ensue

In the end, strong men do crumble and these women they do smart

I bet you thought you’d break me too and that you’d wound my heart

But while yours may be feline, mine is solid stone

You tried to take the best of me, but you’re the one I own

For I have seen your glory, and now I’ll never drown

And I will be a king to you, and you’ll provide my crown

Love and loyalty commanding, this vow do not forsake

My crown is not of thistle, but, my wrath will not be fake

I told you once before, your will was one I’d try to spite

To strike you down, with these cool words, is how I’ll make this right

Though these words they may sound angry – all, is full of love

My temperament be easy - takes its cue from you, my dove

So hold me now in silence and whisper in my ear

Repeat the things your life has taught you I would want to hear

You may fool my instinct with soft and pleasant stories

And I may rule you ever more, for I have seen your glory

Eleutheromania, A Poem By Eddie Myles, Jr.

So many of my poems begin with my interest in a single word. I then take that word and try and figure out how it relates to something I’m feeling, have experienced or am otherwise interested in. I take the same approach to my tattoos which is why many of them are the result of, subject of or inspiration for my poems. This poem continues my fascination with the image and idea of the falcon and what it means in my life. The title is somewhat ironic but mostly a word I really like:

I often jump from airplanes, out over the ocean, down into the blue
Where fireflies don’t see me but brutal hunters often do

More than once, I’ve scaled a skyscraper and fallen with no parachute
My fall need not be broken, my life need no rescue

When I sleep, I dream of Africa, a time and land way back when
My nightmares are uneven but they’re shared by native men

I pray, folklore stay Aboriginal, wild, free and true
With honest eyes, we speak these words to native sons - and daughters too

So I go, and grow, insatiable - to feed my wanderlust
When days are long, I’m happy just to feel more dangerous

I sometimes walk a thousand miles, in a direction, known by few
I’ve climbed my share of mountains just to move beyond the glue

On my back, grant wings like falcons have, my hands be those of talons
So I may have a means and way, when my freedom hangs in the balance

I hate the talk of harmony, and peace, and all such banter
Opposition is sacred, like Thunderbird, and Underwater Panther

I am dazed, that I bleed this way, and that I have but one true aim
When destroyed, to finally be, free from all this pain

I found this #photo in one of my feeds it expresses #visually the feeling and sentiment behind one of my favorite tattoos that I have which in turn #inspired one of my favorite poems: “Ego omnibus cicatrixes vitaim” (I bear all the scars of life) (and yes, most of my #tats are #dark and #somber, but hopeful too) #tears #tattoo #instamood #instapic #nowomannocry #latin #language #meaning #scars #life #omnibus #poem #poetry #feelings
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I found this #photo in one of my feeds it expresses #visually the feeling and sentiment behind one of my favorite tattoos that I have which in turn #inspired one of my favorite poems: “Ego omnibus cicatrixes vitaim” (I bear all the scars of life) (and yes, most of my #tats are #dark and #somber, but hopeful too) #tears #tattoo #instamood #instapic #nowomannocry #latin #language #meaning #scars #life #omnibus #poem #poetry #feelings

Omnibus, A Poem By Eddie Myles, Jr.

I’ve mentioned before that I have a fascination with Latin. As a writer, inspiration is everything. Sometimes I write based on an experience I’ve had or witnessed but lots of times I’m simply inspired because I like a thought or in this case a word. This poem was actually inspired by a tattoo that I have and that was inspired by both a single word and something I was feeling. Enjoy!

I bear these scars with honor, the badges of my life

Plurality of existence and existential strife,

If resistance is the husband, then, success will be my wife

I was born of pyramids, foundations strong and wide

Prepared now for calamity, I never need to hide,

Life may be my falcon but, the dove is still my guide

My arm is full of power and my sword is now unsheathed

The consequence of hours rises up from underneath,

Waste them not the time will come when I shall be unleashed

I faced many choices and destruction was the worse

No one has it easy things are not all joy and mirth,

So,I learned about my blessings and that “vitam” was the first

I reject predestination, by its will I can’t abide

Because I believe in dreamers and in hope I do confide,

I let inspiration help the path I chose divide

A man of many conflicts be a man of so few words

The yin and yang of passion, is best left undisturbed,

But be that still, the conflict rests, as one between two birds

But I am not alone, many parts there must involve

Those who wield the pen and voice continue to evolve,

From time until indefinite to make the world revolve

With open minds we conquer, and move beyond the noise

We use these words as weapons, not as small and futile toys,

That makes us men and women, not a group of girls and boys

A legacy of listeners with dark and painful fears

Poetic be these voices, as deaf may be these ears,

As Will once said, the eyes can see, and make this live for years

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