Still Life

Take a look in the pool and what do you see
In the dark depths their faces beckoning me
Can't you see them its plain for all to see
They were their oh I know you don't believe me

Oh I never felt so strange
But I'm not going insane.

I've no doubt that you think I'm off of my head
You don't say but it's in your eyes instead
Hours I spend out just gazing into that pool
Something draws me there I don't know what to do

Oh they drain my strength away
Oh their asking me to stay
Nightmares, spirits calling me
Nightmares, they won't leave me be.

All my life's blood is slowly draining away
And I feel that I'm weaker every day
Somehow I know I haven't long to go
Joining them at the bottom of the pool

Oh I feel they are so near
And I begin to see them clear
Nightmares, calling all the time
Nightmares, will give me peace of mind.

Now it's clear and I know what I have to do
I must take you down there to look at them to
Hand-in-hand then we'll jump right into that pool
Can't you see not just me they want you to.

Oh we'll drown together
It will be forever
Nightmares, forever calling me
Nightmares, now we rest in peace.

-Iron Maiden

Two Minutes to Midnight

Here is ole about nuclear war.

Kill for gain or shoot to maim
but we don't need a reason
the golden goose is on the loose
and never out of season
blackened pride still burns inside
this shell of bloody treason
here's my gun for a barrel of fun
for the love of living death.

The killers breed or the demons seed
the glamour, the fortune, the pain
go to war again, blood is freedom stained
don't you pray for my soul anymore.

Two minutes to midnight
the hands that threaten doom
two minutes to midnight
to kill the unborn in the womb.

The blindman shouts let the creatures out
we'll show the unbelievers
napalm screams of human flames
for the prime-time belson feast (yeah)
and the reasons for their carnage
cut their meat and lick the gravy
we oil the jaws of the war machine
and feed it with our babies.

The killers breed or the demons seed
the glamour, the fortune, the pain
go to war again, blood is freedom stained
don't you pray for my soul anymore.

Two minutes to midnight
the hands that threaten doom
two minutes to midnight
to kill the unborn in the womb.

For body bags and little rags
of children torn in two
and the jellied brains of those who remain
to put their finger right on you
as the madman plays on words
and make us all dance to ther song
to the tune of starving millinons
to make a better kind of gun.

The killers breed or the demons seed
the glamour, the fortune, the pain
go to war again, blood is freedom stained
don't you pray for my soul anymore.

Two minutes to midnight
the hands that threaten doom
two minutes to midnight
to kill the unborn in the womb.

Midnight, midnight, midnight,
it's all night

Midnight, midnight,midnight,
it's all night

Midnight............it's all night.

Tailgunner

Trace your way back fifty years
to the glow of Dresdin blood and tears
by the black above, by the cruel search light
men will die and men will fight (yeah)
Who shot who and who fired first
dripping death to wet the blood thirst
no radar lock on skin and bone
the bomber boys are going home.

Climb into the sky, never wonder why,
tailgunner, you're a tailgunner
Climb into the sky, never wonder why,
tailgunner, you're a tailgunner
Climb into the sky, never wonder why,
tailgunner, you're a tailgunner
Climb into the sky, never wonder why,
tailgunner, you're a tailgunner.

Nail that Fokker, kill that son,
gonna blow your guts out with my gun
the weather forcasts' good for war
Cologne or Frankfurt, have some more
Tail-end Charlie in the boiling sky
the enola Gaye was my last try
now that this tailgunner's gone
no more bullets, just one big bomb.

Climb into the sky, never wonder why,
tailgunner, you're a tailgunner
Climb into the sky, never wonder why,
tailgunner, your a tailgunner
Climb into the sky, never wonder why,
tailgunner, you're a tailgunner.
Climb into the sky, never wonder why,
tailgunner, you're a tailgunner.

- Iron Maiden

Aces High

There goes the siren that warns of the air raid
there comes the sound of the gun sending flack
out for the scramble we 've got to ger airborn
got to get up for the coming attack
jump in the cockpit and start up the engine
remove all the wheel blocks there's no time to waste
gathering speed as we head down the runway
got to get airborn before it's too late.

running (running), scrambling (scrambling), flying (flying)
running (running), scrambling (scrambling), flying (flying)

run, live to fly, fly to livedo or die
why don't you run, live to fly fly to live,
aces high

Move in to fire at the mainstream of bombers
let off a sharp burst and then turn away
roll over, spin round to come in behind them
move to their blind sides and fire in again
bandits at eight o'clock move in behind us
10ME 109's out of the sun
ascending and turning our spitfires to faces them
hheading straight for them I press down my guns

rolling (rolling), turning (turning), diving (diving)
rolling (rolling), turning (turning), diving (diving)

run, live to fly, fly to live, do or die,
why don't you run, live to fly, fly to live,
aces high.

Steve Harris (Iron Maiden)

Diary of a Madman

Screaming at the window
watch me die another day
hopeless situation
endless price I have to pay.

Sanity now it's beyond me there's no choice.

Diary of a madman
walk the lines again today
entries of confusion
dea diary I'm here to stay

Manic depression befriends me
hear his voice
sanity now it's beyond me
there's no choice.

A sickened mind and spirit
the mirror tells me lies
how could I mistake myself for someone
who lives behind my eyes
will he escape my soul
or will he live in me
is he trying to get out or trying to enter me.

Voices in the darkness
scream away my mental health
can I ask a question
to help save me from my self.

Enemies fill up the pages
are they me
monday til sunday in stages
set me free.

-Ozzy Osbourne

Revelations

Oh God of earth and alter
bow down and hear our cries
our earthly rules falter
our people drift and die
the walls of gold entomb us
the swords of scorn divide
take not thy thunder from us
take away our pride.

Just a babe in a black abyss
no reason for a place like this
the walls are cold and souls cry out in pain
an easy way for the blind go
a clever path for the fools who know
the secret of the hanged man
the smile on his lips

The light of the blind you'll see
the venom tears my spine
the eyes of the nile
are opening you'll see.

She came to me with a serpant's kiss
as the eye of the sun rose on her lips
moonlight catches, silver tears I cry
so we lay in a black embrace
and the seed is sown in a holy place
and I watched it and I waited for the dawn.

The light of the blind you'll see
the venom tears my spine
the eyes of the nile
are opening you see.

Bind all of us together
ablaze with hope and free
no storm or heavy weather
will rock the boat you see
the time has come to close your eyes
and still the wind and rain
for the one who will be king
the watcher in the ring.

It is you, ohh....... It is you.

Bruce Dickinson (Iron Maiden)

Holy Smoke

Believe in me, send no money,
I died on the cross
and that ain't funny
but my so called friends,
their making me a joke,
they missed out what I said,
like I never spoke
they choose what they want to hear,
they don't tell a lie,
they just leave out the truth
as their watching you die,
saving their souls by taking your money,
flies around shit, bees around honey.

Holy smoke, holy smoke
plenty of bad preachers for the devil to stoke
feed'em in feet first this is no joke
this is thirsty work making holy smoke {yeah)

Making Holy smoke

Jimmy reptile and all his friends
say their gonna be with you at the end
burning records, burning books,
holy soldies Natzi looks
crocodile smile, just wait awhile,
til the t.v. queen gets her makeup clean,
I've lived in fealth and I've lived in sin,
and I still smell cleaner than the shit your in.

Holy smoke, holy smoke,
plenty of bad preachers for the devil to stoke
feed'em in feet first this is no joke
this is thirsty work making holy smoke.

Holy smoke.....(smells good)

They ain't religous and they ain't no fool
when Noah built his cadillac it was cool
two by two they're still going down
and the satellite circus just a left town
I think it's strange and when they're dead
they can have a lincoln for their bed
friend of the president trick of the tale
now they ain't got a prayer, one hundred years in jail.

Holy smoke, holy smoke
plenty of bad preachers for the devil to stoke
feed'em in feet first this is no joke
this is thirsty work making holy smoke.

Making holy smoke

-Iron Maiden

The Trooper

this next batch of writings are lyrics of songs from my favorite musicians that inspired me to write,

You'll take my life but I'll take yours too
You'll fire your musket but I'll run you through
So when your waiting for the next attack
you'd better stand there's no turning back.

The bugal sounds the charge begins
but on this battle field no one wins
the smell of acrid smoke and horses breath
as I plunge on into certain death

Oh, oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh, oh, ohhhhh
Oh, oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,ohhhhhh

The horse he sweats with fear we break to run
the mighty roar of the russian guns
and as we race towards the human wall
the screams of pain as my comrades fall.

We hurdle bodies that lay on the ground
and the Russians fire another round
we get so near yet so far away
we won't live to fight another day.

Oh, oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,ohhhh
Oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,ohhhh

We get so close near enough to fight
When a Russian gets me in his sights
He pulls the trigger and I feel the blow
A burst of rounds takes my horse below.

And as I lay there gazing at the sky
my body's numb and my throat is dry
And as I lay forgotten and a loan
without a tear I draw my parting groan.

Oh, oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,ohhhh
Oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,ohhhh

Steve Harris (Iron Maiden)

In Your Hour of Passing

This poem is about a friend of mine who passed away recently from cancer.

I know that you feel that I stabbed you in the back,
all I can say is that I'm sorry for that.
Time we spent together, though brief it was,
fun and I am glad I got to meet you at least once.
I will always be your friend though the wound is way too deep
and in your hour of passing I will be your friend in grief.

Believe me when I tell you that I meant you no harm,
I am sorry my friend from the bottom of my heart.
Sorry I could not be there for you in all your pain and sorrow,
to dry your eyes when you cry tears beyond tomorrow.
I will always be your friend though the wound is way too deep
and in your hour of passing I will be your friend in grief.

Paul Hickey
12-16-12
Copyright @2012

Death On The Innocent

This next poem is in dedication of those who lost their lives and those who were injured in the Colorado Shooting tragedy on 7-20-2012. Unlike many of my other writings about tragic shootings, where I describe in detail and in story format what had happened during the course of the shooting, this poem captures the mood of the community of Aurora Colorado and the heroism occurred as the shooting was taking place.People sacrificing their own lives so others could live.

Evil blood returns again to claim a death on the innocent,
breeding hate that dictates fate from the rationality of temperament.

Lost are those, not to forget how cold their blood was shed,
heroes never fathomed before now lay amongst the dead.

Death succeeds but does not lead to glory of the villain,
from the sky we carry pride with strength beyond the killing.

Bodies scattered meant to shatter lives of those who survived,
has only strengthened the love within and failed to divide.

A descendant may steal the ones who feel and a country may then cry
but ascendants will not give up love even when a loved one dies.

Paul Hickey Copyright@ 2012
8-1-12

Sparkling Eyes

This poem is about a beautiful girl I know. Every time I see her under dim light with darkness standing out on the background her eyes sparkle as does her personality.

Sparkling eyes pull me away,
I've found my sacred glow;
Here I stay is where I fade
into my welcoming home.

If only Heaven would shine as bright,
to where my soul would wander,
to take away my world of night
like eyes of glistening thunder.

A look that gleams with smiling grace
upon my frowning face,
energized, I will not die,
I feel her strength today.

A nurturing scent, each time I am
blown away by warmth again,
which i why I come and stare at her
amongst a bar of men.

When I see the sparkle of her eyes,
the beauty of her lips,
I feel alive within my eyes
inspiring me to live.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
8-1-12

Down By the River Front

As I stumbled across the river front, I discovered by a bridge a brain,
splashed upon the body's gorge, he who had been slain,
Rigor Mortise decomposed, I've seen old blood before,
every time I walk on by I want to end him more,
For every time I walk on by I welcome him no more.

Down by the river front where water floods with gloom,
where dead all rest in a bloody mess under a glowing moon,
I seek out my serenity, winds aren't seen but closely felt,
when will I be the next to perish for the pain that I've been dealt?

All I see by the river's tides are parts of he who died,
Those whose final days were spent hiding behind their cries,
Still I choose to venture down to see all hopeless lost,
For my sins, I hope I win, not pay the ultimate cost,
If I win, no more sin, my body will not rot.

slaughtered in dampened forests washed from soot of fleshy floods
are cherished friends scattered around, love stolen from their blood,
Who upon is dastardly enough to take my world from me,
When I find them clouds of hail shall pound with heavy flurry.

Down by the river front where my tombstone had been paved,
I battled back to get back on track, my world had been saved;
I try to put back together sorted pieces of my life,
to live what others cannot live from their death encountered fight;
I on the other hand shall follow the brightness of my light.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
05-10-12

Dust In My Eyes

This is a short poem that has to do with betrayal of yourself.

All grasped hands upon unworthy trails
are desert sands of dark betrayal;
Cold, numb, all of them stale
as hail storms of dust blind my eyes;
I cannot see, nothing is clear, I cannot feel,
inside burdens my soul to steal.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
05-9-12

Battle Cries

This is a poem about relationships. It has to do with the fear of love and the loss of the one you love; coping with betrayal, and the pain of argument within the relationship. Trying not to get lost in the relationship and realizing that you are a couple with single lives. Instead of losing focus of your own life, you deal with, and cope with the pain, eventually finding yourself as you go through varying stages of parting from the relationship.

Everywhere heed dead
overtaking good through evil eyes that see
dying love, two hearts adrift,
in battle witness internal bleeding;
Whether scorned by hopeful,
spiteful, soulless, those furnishing spongy spines,
or condemned by hopeless,
sorry persona controlling our puppet minds,
truth is what matters,
we know, we fear we are out of time.

Battle cries drip from troubled frightening eyes,
as kicking and screaming,
I float into unfamiliar dungeons of night,
Upon lingering darkness,
I fight shadows for love of your life;
Stronger are sinister forces
that take your bloodied body away from me,
weakness overpowered
by suffocating seeds that sprout from down deep.

Everywhere abroad
hostility smothers a thousand breaths,
as away from sanity
my brain is casted into nowhere;
Blind is what's left
of shattered dignity from death,
love obscured
putting existence within to rest,
Battle for pride,
My life and nothing less,
Find light from the endless canyons of depth.

Paul Hickey Copyright @2012
4-27-12

Morning Star

Translation: The world is a lonely place. There comes a time when everyone must learn to stand on their own. It's hard when nothing in life seems to be going your way. You must be strong and carry on. Don't let everything around you come crashing down. Don't let anyone around you walk you into the ground. There may be a time when you find yourself alone with no one to talk to and nowhere to turn. Those closest to you are dead and gone. When you feel alone turn your faith to Heaven. Put yourself in God's hands and soon everything good will come. Soon you will have the strength to carry on. Even when the dead are buried and gone. Frustration may be present. Rather than fight for wrong fight for what's right. Find your Angel to help guide you through the night. Even when you feel the urge to murder out of frustration, God is there to guide you, to ensure you of your safety. In other words, despite all the pain being felt inside, you will survive.

Serene solitude darkens my morning star,
As independence is cursed to walk in pace, it's own,
Challenged by luck destroyed by incompetent hands,
Strength I must brave upon difficult times
to salvage wanderers crashing down
into obscurity of solemn grounds. 

One being upon life facing towards beautified heavens,
sacrifice for sanctity, best of all worlds shall come,
rule in depth, develop in pride, find my path again,
when living die and, I alone must praise the sun. 

Swallow desires for blood by trembling hands that bleed,
Follow angelical light glittering from above,
halt fate I plan from isolated wombs that be,
Let piety and hope guide me through night;
Although fiery flames proceed to ravish,
Stronger is love I see in flight,
As I reach for destined plights of faith,
My body burns but I am safe.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
04-20-12


 

Wrath of the Beast

This poem is about revenge under any circumstances in its sneakiest form.

Vindication,
          Silent eyes amongst a reserved mind,
          Awakened in a world gone blind,
          Wandering without warning
         from muffled flames below blackened skin,
         and ripened when sparks are born again;
         Faith in God faded away becomes more distant,
         As fire under ground engulfs all heart
         With heat from the beast,
         Burning for ages underneath,
         Dying only when the fire is foreseen,
         And yearning for dead is brought forth,
                  "With Wrath I unleash the beast".

Vendetta,
        Blood from the greedy notoriously spilled
        by cunning hands of the killed,
        Stealing back that stolen
        from wretched thieves who prey on innocence,
        showering themselves with fortune and gold,
        while beaten and bruised are left to die
        from unkempt paws of the glorified,
                   "With wrath I unleash the beast".

Retribution,
       reciprocation fed through claws of the weakened,
       to bring down mighty who devour it's descendants,
       unknown villains being crushed under me;
       Immortal adrenalin rushing through veins
      of the human made insane,
     frailty embedded within the brain;
     In my head I'm home feeding off triggers from deep below,
     and burning amongst depths of my tarnished soul,
     as I step forth through frightening worlds alone,
                     "With wrath I unleash the beast",
                       freedom restored strengthens me.

Paul Hickey  Copyright @ 2012
4-15-12
      
      
      
      
      
      
      

Clueless

This poem is inspired by flaky relationships.

Get my hopes up,
You say lets get together,
Bring me a poem,
Your words light as a feather.

Drop me a message,
You like what you hear,
We talk on the phone,
our personals we share.

Your voice sounds so friendly,
As you feed me your lines,
All of the sudden,
You feed me the shine.

Was it something I said?
I don't have a clue!
I have been nothing but friendly,
My ears open to you.

You leave me in limbo,
I don't have a clue!
Give me some reasons
You hang me from limbs,
Why did you answer
If you can't follow through?

I feel the strength of avoidance
Rupturing my veins,
Am I paranoid of rejection
or temporarily insane?

Why do you explain
Your sexual dreams,
when you seek out another man
to fulfill your needs?

Don't ever you boast,
I don't have the time,
when I catch you at the end,
Flirting on the line.

I drop you a message
hoping you'll respond,
I wait for a moment
but I'm left waiting until dawn.

You never send a message,
I withdrawal in my brain,
My eyes stoned cold,
I am lifeless from the pain.

You never send a message
To relieve me of my soul,
I now exit the line,
what could have been I let go.

Was it something I said?
I don't have a clue!
I have been nothing but friendly,
My ears open to you.
You leave me in limbo,
I don't have a clue!
Give me some reasons
You hang me from limbs,
Don't bother to answer
If you can't follow through.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
4-10-12

Honest Tomb

This poem is about someone being so trustworthy and honest that people take advantage of him stealing from him to the point where he is staring into the face of suicide

If I leave today will I be in Hell tomorrow,
Will my spirit seek it's sorrow?
When I am gone will my work be done,
For our Devil,
My maker,
The drowning sun?

When Heaven won't take me who will?
The demon's flaming thrills!
If I kill will I be saved
From depths of his fiery grave.

Mist or Fire,
which will be the promised land?

If I die only to rise under murder's oath,
eternally worthy of disaster?
Internally if I fall,
when my heart bleeds,
will it's meet hooks draw me underneath?

When I lay there stiff in an honest tomb
Will I blindly feel neglecting wounds?
Would it be myself or some other man?
Suicide with a helping hand!

Rain or flood,
Which will be the promised land?
Please God help me if you can!

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
4-10-12

Eternal Dreams

This is a poem that reflects a positive outcome in the face of adversity. In spite of being dealt bad luck over and over again, the dream is perseverance, pride and triumph.

Existence takes me through wondrous colorful skies,
          journeyed through clouds unknown,
I wander aimlessly through focused radiant eyes,
         to challenge uncertainty alone,
And break through holes, past crippling surmise,
        to find myself, my own.

Flashing down upon my chest in swarms of yellow streams,
       as pours of golden magic gleaming
Upon my heart it seems,
      Glistening with sparkling presence about my troubled soul,
stands my glow, eternal dreams,
       to find myself, my own.

Above all wonders of the world embraced with true beliefs,
      hold on with ever trusting hands
That pave my world for me,
      Piercing through thickened flesh and bone something I've postponed,
A guiding light, eternal dreams,
      to find myself, my own.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
4-9-12









        

Close Your Eyes Forever

See all that I need to see,
Know all that I need to know,
See what I see no more,
I need not know more of what I already know,
So perched upon I think,
As steadily I drink, I mope
over something that will never be.

Need not know what I know no more,
peace of mind for I've made up mine,
death will knock at your door,
See what I see, a deep loving embrace from two,
see what I see, a meaningful kiss in love are you,
think not of one who cherishes you,
think not of Hell you shall face,
filthy greed all over stolen will and grace.

Excessively anxious, how do I cure it?
Overly neurotic, cease life the final remedy,
Free-floating, breed calmness from death,
content knowing you are breathless,
peace as I watch you both die with fear in your eyes,
satisfied as I watch both of you close your eyes forever.

Paul Hickey Copyright @2012
4-8-12

All Depression Has It's Prime

This is obviously a poem about depression. However it is a poem about a man who suffers from a severe case of Major Depressive Disorder..so severe that normally it may drive someone to suicide. Enduring toughness so much tougher than the depression he chooses to cope with the depression rather than take his own life.

Lazy sights bark upon layers of surrounding moons;
I deplore of what foolishness has come to murder me,
Yet alienates me from my bloody hand of death;
Glaring hemorrhage of gloom overcrowding with doom,
yet falling down shall not happen anytime soon,
for taking life will not be of any fault of mine;
Barred from heart and mind,
I have yet to succeed with my descension,
much too strong for prime-time depression.

Paul Hickey Copyright @2012
4-6-12

Shrinking Hearts

This is a poem about how all my friends became addicted to drugs. I was the odd one out as I had no desire for drugs. However, what was killing me inside was watching my friends as well as my friendship with my friends die as a result of drugs. The end result, not only death of friendship but death of life.

Minds race far and swift
as insect venom stings my heart with disease;
Stricken deep with hurt of carnage,
I watch poison destroy the love in me
for damaged friends with shrinking hearts of life.

Lost and alone I cry for deep human touch again,
reflecting on the days that once had been;
With fire circulating through my broken soul,
the only light to pierce the open sky, day and night,
I pace this Earth with abundant sorrow.

Tribulation, from friend to embattled foe,
trust becomes renovated beyond repair;
Falling from limb, witnessing the down fall of them,
I caress what is hurting inside,
cast a prayer for the dying to live.

Faith non-existent to their blinded beliefs,
adrift from skin to rushing wind,
we part without maddening words or looks;
Still wonder lingers upon my brow,
ponder upon my brain,
Can this really be happening again?

Flustered, "Is there life among the living dead"?
For all who don live life as if it were gone;
Beyond there is no vision of care I've tried to shed,
Occupied by snow-blind minds,
Inside shattered of will time doesn't forget.

Flaky mood tarnished from mind-altering substance
over-burdening the ego of surviving senses;
Feel not for you have fallen possessed from weakness,
feel not for I have been condemned from expenses.
Numbness stiffened in both body and brain,
withering liveliness from inability to refrain,
please do not die; let me live again.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
4-1-12

Problem's Plague

This poem is about someone who attempts to help his girlfriend through her drug addiction. However, she is not appreciative, gives him the could shoulder treating him badly and telling him to get lost. As a result, he is plagued by her problem..thus the title "Problem's plague". As he moves on with his life without her he cannot forgive her for the way she treated him. They drift from each other as if they were dead.

Never had a soul ever vanished unkind
until she perished away from me;
Fallen from the edge of this Earth
she had arisen a problem's plague.

Not a friendly face nor a tender kiss
made this planet a heavenly place to live;
Living without, yet not a care,
my heart was unwilling to forgive.

Paul Hickey  Copyright @ 2012
3-29-12

Definitions

This poem describes all the emotions, feelings, beliefs, and actions I have felt in the course of relationships. Not only relationships but in love and life in general;

Kill- A permanent excuse for living.
Torture- Being crucified for our mistakes.
Murder- Blood from a broken heart.
Die- Lifeless in the soul.

Black horizon wakes me up
to the dawn of a glorious Hell.

Revenge- The message burning in my eyes.
Self-Pity- The only reason I'm alive.
Emotions- Chaos belittling my crooked spine.
Limited Independence- Crowded is the fickle mind.

Drawing me away from love
to a home where there is fire.

Reliance- In trust I seek but blind.
Insanity- Success revealed as failure.
Heartless- Throwing their flame back to their death.
Dependence- No life echoed in my shell.

A man in his years of darkness,
to a woman who ruined each day.

Superiority- One eye over God.
Inferiority- Uncomfortable in my own skin.
Defiance- Tired of being robbed.
Fight- Taking a stand for freedom.

We are living with a complex
of confused facts and mind written terror.

Terror- the fiend that lives and sleeps in me.
Humanity- Masked kindness behind the terror.
Infatuation- Poison that drives one to murder.
Birth- Unforgiving death released from the mother's womb.

What has become of all God's children
when destruction rules creative minds?
Commitment- An issue blinded by lust.
Sociology- An A from mingling, a F for development.
Catch-22- Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
Reality- Lost in the minds of the twisted.

When will the drama end,
time is walking the hides of sin.

Hallucinations- Real faces in deluded minds.
Death- Daylight blinded by darkness.
Love- Nonexistence within the battered soul.
Miscellaneous- Scattered brains condemned.

Still adrift with all life dismissed,
waiting above all for a forward kiss.

Communism- Global war crossing the American border.
Immigration- What seems safe renders hate.
Politicians- Nothing but lies heard over and over again.
Coincidence- An American citizen kills another.

Face upon face forging lies we'll be saved
but shorter and shorter don the end of our days.

Frustration- Watching empires tumble before my eyes.
Agitation- Fear of becoming a human statistic.
Revolution- War abroad, will our end be soon?
Evolution- Growth destroyed by human blood.

Overloaded mind reducing the brain to water,
as exploding facts trigger attacks on those who produce the slaughter.

Racism- Hate for self disguised by a chosen scapegoat.
Ignorance- stupidity developed since birth.
Hypocrisy- Unaware of the faults manifested in oneself.
Pomposity- Fantasy of being superman.

The human race dissolves in time
through the idiosyncrasies of all mankind.

Compromise- Negotiations that never follow through.
Contradiction- Truth covered by human lies.
Explanation- Tricked to believe the lies are true.
Exasperation- We are tired, the world shall end.

Darkness dominates the daylight skies
Is this a sign that human life will die?

Sadistic- empathy disappears into a flooded pool of nightmares.
Sarcasm- Passing off horror as pleasant dreams.
Possession- Obsession for gloom, punishment, death.
Mention- Talk of someone who perished along the way.

For those who remain alive and present, victims of today,
cherish the day your time has come for God to take you away.

Argumentative- As the brain explodes demise looms closer.
Decisive- A made up mind, to live, to die, to breathe again.
Destination- Controlled fate handed from the God of faith.
Implantation- My final resting place.

And so I stay in this fateful place, planned by enemies that breathe,
if only I could turn back time, I would live to see them bleed.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
3-30-12

The Mind's Eye

This is a poem that talks about what goes on in the minds of serial killers.

Like water in a mind's eye,
he worships women, death,
 the thought to die.
In vanity of his cold possessed dreams,
desecrate man, woman,
blood-curdling fate.
Within shells of his written will,
he cherishes love, honesty,
to kill.
He who understands the true meaning of hate,
quantities of her
with a thousand faces;
Like a man always on a body chase,
he sees qualities, murder,
devouring haste.
Suspicion so internal with eyes infinity,
he destroys for the joyful
march of obscenity.

Killing for reason,
a degree he well understands,
the watery tongue, decapitation
obedient of every sub-conscious command.
Speculation creeping up on extreme death,
surmise, spy, target,
then return for the mess.
Penetrating victims while preparing for a bath,
he awaits the showers
of an eternal blood aftermath.
Breaking and entering
in order to bare on Christ's list,
with weapons that
shoot, stick, and twist.
"Oops", mistake!
break out again and again,
as he returns with another death wish.

Suicide or kill
of whoever dares to deceive,
me, him, or the life sake of man;
Not conscious of facts for mutilating lust,
ulcered pain, urgency for violence,
lacking of trust.

Millions here, Millions there,
bodies floating everywhere;
he alone scatters alone,
bury victims, never pray.
One look at someone
who is psychotically me,
bares various resemblance
of specified vulnerability,
guilt, casualty, homicide,
through soul, brain and hand.

Paul Hickey  Copyright @ 2012
3-26-12

Halloween

This poem is about a boy who goes nuts on his mother after finding out she had been cheating on his father on Halloween, a day of fun and excitement for children. Instead of going trick -or-treating, he gets his revenge on his mother. The "The going nuts" part is expressed intensely in the first stanza.

People ran as bodies flew,
canaries in witch's brew;
Where to run and nowhere to hide?
Dark tunnel with no wish bone inside.

They count their blessings but their sins are in light,
specs of black on Halloween night;
Casted curses send a frightful daze,
plagues to them on their wedding day.

Still they marry in a frightful cave,
you can't bury so you set them ablaze;
Is it love or the love of hate?
Lets all betray our bird brain mates.

So you pay her back spreading ashes around,
retaliation cackling above rising ground;
All the relaxation makes you sleep so well,
you place her ashes in a frosty cold cell.

Paul Hickey
3-23-12

Scarlet the Harlot

This is another poem about a girlfriend cheating.

Blood on the walls,
Blood in the halls,
Blood from an animal's balls;
Blood from my hand,
Blood from a man,
Blood from a man with no balls.

Scarlet the Harlot,
Crimson whore,
Bread off a dirty old floor;
Stiff near a man,
Who bled from my hand,
is flushed all over the floor.

Blood on the walls,
Blood in the halls,
Blood from an animal's balls;
Blood on the bed,
Blood from the dead,
Two lifeless where they fall.

Scarlet the Harlot,
Crimson whore,
Bread off a dirty old floor;
Pale white waste
With anemic face
Cannot betray me anymore.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
3-18-12

Winds of Sorrow

This poem is about looking towards the future and not knowing where I am going. Everything that was is no longer and I am stuck wondering where my soul is drifting.

Upon me stirs the winds of sorrows
gushing against my paling face,
everywhere with thrusts of thunder
blowing away my faith.

ritual drifts whisper through my body
to the heart of it's bristled limbs,
air splashed with velocity,
I feel the rushing wind.

Strive to find my shattered depths
amongst a hail of dust,
whirlpools spinning round and round
destroying the world I love.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
3-16-12

Prayer to Our Holy Father

This is a poem about God, thanking him for life, living, nature, food, friends, health, and seeing us through to our death.

Dear God,
"Thank you for our daily bread,
to which we look forward to be fed,
making our lives a place easier to be
when we earn our shares upon our feet".

Dear Lord,
"Thank you for doom of intriguing pain,
I feel it clear with all my shame,
you send us through the darkness and rain
only to show us the light again".

Dear Father,
"Thank you for the four seasons,
all of which have different reasons,
brightness, blackness, coldness of Winter,
thank you for our daily weather
even though you I cannot see".

Dear Lord,
"Thank you for our daily friends
and to you our hearts we gratefully send,
no pain, no tears, no-overlapping fate
shall keep us from honoring your welcoming gates";
"Thank you for our loving friends
even though their souls are dense,
thank you God for being our end".

Dear Savior,
"Forgive us for the sins we've done
and for ones we are about to commit,
forgive us for our brainless graves,
not learning from past existence".
"Forgive us for our thought and images
which render us cold of mind,
revulsion and murder in our eyes,
please stand by us and keep us sane,
well away from a killer insane".

Dearest One,
"Forgive us for our heart and souls,
we do not wish for the Devil's role,
Insane jealousy, a sin all alone,
let me stay strong to crush it's bones".

Dear Savior,
"Save us from any harmful illusion,
don't let us select our harmful intrusions;
save us from needy thoughts of others,
kill us now and suspect our mothers;
Save us from the blackness of vain,
save us from our own restraints;
Turn to them, spread Hell upon them,
turn to us, kill ourselves we shall must;
God save us from murder and suicide trees,
I still thank you for the life of me".

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
03-16-12

Two-Faced Scholar

This short story poem is about a man who had it all. He had good friends, a good family, good education, and as great career. However, something goes horribly wrong. He is in this relationship with this woman. They were suppose to get marrieds out that she has been cheating on him for a while. He quickly goes from innocent, fun loving to killer practically over night. He isolates himself from those he loves and his dark side appears as he continuously stalks the couple, eventually killing them both. On the run, he is tracked down by police where it ends in suicide-by-cop fashion. Everybody is shocked and cannot believe that someone who seemed so happy would do something so tragic as to kill another person.

Intrude, eat, prey,
my groaning eye detects;
Foolish bastard remark me stupid,
assume I'm dead,
unable to raise a finger
to prove the deceased is still alive,
Strictly cold and blind.

I am dangerously eccentric,
inward bedeviled pain,
outward brutal flame,
I release my heat unto you.

I exercise reprisal to limits
as you attempt to figure out
how and why my sincere face
is attached to such an evil eye.

No one ever lives or breathes
a single word of me,
plot for them forever who I am
through conspiracy.

I ponder my reality, pre-conceived
in fantasy, misfortunes of the deadly task;
I plan the daily attacks.

I am a prisoner of proximal
group ostracision, socially distant
within a lone mind's decision.

Impulse ceases resistance from urges,
"maim, kill, unending habit".

I drive location of varied location,
suspended renovation,
cap and glasses by my side;
Nearby, not so far lot
grows larger with a single presence,
where I can lie in wait
hidden from would-be cops,
where I feign being studious,"Hush-Hush",
secret two-faced scholar on the run.

Pass away the minutes,
my temper well beyond the limits,
cap and glasses straddled for action.

A very nervous man is what I am,
as excitement for fulfillment
rumbles through my trembling bones,
I drive ever slowly by the target house,
creeping like a squeaking mouse,
a drooling hawk stalking fetish prey.

Taking my time I drive away
until another day,
plan extended,
vengeance ripping through
soul and mind.

Visions meet with you
day after friendliness
manipulates acquaintance,
as if not a single soul betrayed,
not a day astray, my voice
non-deceiving to your trusty character.

I'm off, time for more sin,
I hit the road again,
mind on overload,
cap and glasses resting on my head.

Impulse ceases resistance from urges,
"maim, kill, unending habit".

I drive location of varied location,
suspended renovation,
nearby, not so far lot
grows larger with a single presence,
where I lie in wait
hidden from would-be cops,
where I feign to be studious, "Hush-Hush",
secret two-faced scholar on the run.

With tone of influencing words
on the radio,
exit the vehicle I do,
9 inch blade descended in back of myself.

I disappear without a trace
from public eye's view.
Casually I stroll down a
deserted alley, and hop
a chained fence holding
my restrained desires.

I have reached my destiny.
Minutes-by-minutes
slowly tick away. My brain
screams, "What are they doing
in there"? As paranoia pummels
reducing grace, I pace a worried face,
as serenely I await departure from the place.

Unhand grazing scars overtaking
my emotionally devoured body as
they appear from open doors. I
suppress sadistic laughter as I dive
behind hedges just distances away from them;
pounce on him once, slash his gut,
he bleeds a slow and agonizing death.

"Don't do it, don't do it", she cries;
too late, the deed is done,
HELTER-SKELTER,
run for my life, toss the knife,
flipped with a flick of the wrist
into the backyard of a neighborhood family.

I tare off my clothes,
rinse the blood off with a hose,
shave my head to the seeing eye flesh,
scissor every visible hair for the best.
I boycott my car,
I have gone too far,
"CHILLS", "SPILLS", and "THRILLS".
With the coast surprisingly clear,
I approach the object of my transportation,
my car, my escape, and insert the key into
the lock, for no longer can I avoid the law.

"I must make a run for it", I keep telling
myself, day after death, holding my breath.
"Looks to me, I'm as free as can be. Oh-oh
the cops see me. What should I think to do"?

They corner me from every place on the street.
At present time, because I threw away the blood-
stained knife, I possess only one weapon, high-
powered rifle, my only means of protection,
brandished at the men who point harm at me.

"Kill me if need but they won't take me in. I
will never surrender to them"! I yell, "there
is no way you are taking me alive.
I wouldrather perish than live".

Then I set the trigger remembering
the wrong-doing I delivered. Sudden
wails fill the night air. "Please, please,
let go of your arms and give up. Don't
let it come down to this".

I lunge forward, my rifle cocked and loaded,
may release flurries of bullets with the
slightest of taunting. "Bang"! refusal to
relinquish my arsenal comes down to this,
failure to shoot sends death my way.

My blood-shot eyes droop downward,
blood drips in pools to the concrete
surface in front of me. I collapse to
the ground. Men in blue rush towards
the fallen. Sirens sound as a masked man
manifests little life at the hands of the
town police. Ten minutes post-fatal
stand-off, I vanish into eternal sleep,
self-destructive dreams my reality. Homicide
carried out, assisted suicide finishes me.

"Impulse ceases resistance from urges,
maim, kill, unending habit".

I drive location of varied location,
suspended renovation,
cap and glasses by my side,
nearby, not so far lot
growing larger with a single presence,
where I lie in wait
hidden from would-be cops,
where I feign to be studious, "Hush-Hush",
secret two-faced scholar on the run;
Where I pass away the minutes,
temper well beyond limits,
cap and glasses straddled for action, "Hush-Hush"
two-faced scholar on the run.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
3-13-12

Two Shades of Blood

This poem is simply about the consequences of cheating, being betrayed, and being left all alone in the dark.

Shaded rumination,
Melancholic preoccupation,
free-floating anxiety
delivers a fatal bullet.

Brains slashed with rain,
blood-curdling pain,
body shaking,
body aching,
silenced by your chill;
Nerves quaking,
tempers baking,
death within you still.

Alienation,
dehydration,
as isolation pierces
through spilled life,
let the living inside you flood.

Loaded gun,
rapidly pounding hearts,
terrorizing, raging eyes,
horror-flushed eyes
staring into the face of evil,
taunting chaos
with one simple pull of the trigger;
Disgust looming
as mind altering images entomb me;
Your eyes meeting with his,
his eyes meeting with yours,
my eyes staring murderously,
my lips kissing wind,
loaded gun,
here I go again!

Mind altering images,
reality extracting,
sanity distracting,
consume me;
In solitude I stay,
crying,
sighing,
dying,
as my insides are washed away.

Thinking,
drinking,
thinking and drinking,
the roses of love were for her
symbolic of deep feelings once given
from a heart I no longer feel;
End my vindictive reign,
halt my explosive conviction,
or will my whore and her lover be dead,
mind altering images
entomb me;

Your eyes meeting with his,
his eyes meeting with yours,
your lips kissing his,
his lips touching yours,
my eyes staring murderously,
my lips kissing wind,
loaded gun,
here I go again!
Two shades of blood still on the floor,
one is a lover and one is my whore.

Speculated love,
a shattered heart
is replaced with a heavy weight;
Nothing is real,
nothing exists
except thoughts that are scrambled
in my head.
"Hate me"!
"Love him"!
"Me as friend"!
"Kill her"!
"Kill him"!
"Kill me after I kill her"!
"Kill him first"!
Mind altering images entomb me;

Your eyes meeting with his,
his eyes meeting with yours,
your lips kissing his,
his lips touching yours,
my eyes staring murderously,
my lips kissing wind,
loaded gun,
here I go again!
Two shades of blood still on the floor,
one is a lover and one is my whore;
Lives shall be taken should you embrace anymore,
blood will start spilling as I break down the door.

Rape,
strangle,
sodomize,
pulverize
into two different shades of blood;
Blood on my hands,
Pray Lord! What have I done?
Blood on my hands,
marks on their necks,
pools of life flooding the floor;
Blood on my hands,
I can't even remember how this all began,
mind altering images
entomb me;

Your eyes meeting with his,
his eyes meeting with yours,
your lips kissing his,
his lips touching yours,
my eyes staring murderously,
my lips kissing wind,
loaded gun,
here I go again!
Two shades of blood still on the floor,
one is a lover and one is my whore;
Lives shall be taken should you embrace anymore,
blood will be spilling as I break down the door.

Two shades of blood still on the floor,
one is a lover and one is my whore,
thus I drink poison and fall dead to the floor,
no more confusion! No more....No more.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
3-12-11

Call of the Nightingale

This poem is about a beautiful girl I know inside and out. She is very sweet, caring and respectful. When she smiles she lights up the room. When she talks to you your heart melts. I know..sounds mushy but this is the feeling I get when I talk to her.

Heaven calls by night,
lingering in our heads until day's end;
As daylight subsides
giving way to twilight, we await our beloved Nightingale
patiently, as she spreads her wings
for all to see, for all to hear, for all to love,
never to be missed from sight,
to flight,
she is our paradise
broadening smiles every minute, every day,
allowing us to take her home in our heads
as nightfall comes to a memorable end
and dreams of an eternal kiss begins.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
3-11-12

Broken Promises

This poem is basically about those people who tell you nothing but lies. They make their words sound truthful. They promise you many things... only to take their words back as quickly as they said them to you. The false facades create internal drama which continues to eat at your soul until eventually you end it all in the most darkest possible way..putting a bullet in your brain. It's simple, short, straight, and to the point.

Make me a promise,
I will take it to heart,
words false in facade,
they take me apart.

Give me a few drinks,
I will die with a wink,
hand me the gun,
I shall drown in my own blood.                                                                                                                                                       

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
3-11-12

Ashes to Ashes

This is a poem about my sinner struggles with love, and relationships. How investing my time in someone completely changes me, draining me of any self awareness. In other words, eventually the investment leads to me not knowing who I am. It is as if someone has stolen my inner strength, not intentionally, but rather because I allow myself to become too overly enthralled with my love interest. The result, loss of dignity, and loss of focus of who I am. Eventually, I am able to regain my strength, my hunger for life through time and pain.

Ashes to Ashes, dust to dust,
if she should perish, then she must;
Shed no tears, grieve not for her soul,
like death blown away, her grip I let go.

Her dust disappears as does my heart
for best I believe certain to salvage some part
of life I've been given, Will I amend,
praise Lord give me strength not to descend.

Love unkindly has bared it's weight upon my being,
as continuously I fall fool to this burden of me;
A thousand fates revealed falling from grace,
with cries I replenish my hunger from waste.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
3-6-12

Fading Away

This is a poem about having the passion and will to succeed only to watch it fade away when success has failed.

No skills, no life, no goals, no soul,
bored, helpless, useless and old,
no present, no future, no motivation left still,
light shining bright has betrayed me of will.

Searching for day light once gloriously enlightened,
no crack of glimmer sparkles hope without end,
gloom looming large forever and a day,
as inside I feel love fading away.

Paul Hickey
2-27-12

Missing in Action

This poem may sound a little disturbing as it has suicidal tendencies. It is about a man who was striving for success in his life but now finds himself struggling. During the best days of his life his father was alive and supporting him with every step he took. However, his father is gone, the man is struggling, and has no place to turn. He misses his father and feels that the only way out is to die and where more soothing but to kill himself where his father died. He does not tell anyone where he is and he is gone for several days with no trace until his body is finally found in the headlands by the Bay. I know, sounds disturbing but powerful

The ocean sounds very peaceful,
the night time quite serene,
the hill side is dark and blissful,
the perfect place to end a dream.

My pistol handle feels very warm
as tears drip from my face;
The barrel is so much warmer
as I place it up to my face.

My mouth is opened wide,
My eyes pierce the blackened sky,
and as they close and roll on back,
I hear my father cry.

I hesitate a very brief moment,
to ask the question, why?
Still I pull the trigger,
to fall where he had died.

Missing in the headlands,
a thousand days gone by,
whatever happened to the very sad man
who never said goodbye.

With eyes piercing the blackened sky,
his mouth opened wide,
one day he pulled the trigger
and fell where his father died.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
2-24-12

Edward Lear

This is a verse from Edward Lear's Poem, "The Owl and the Pussy-Cat". It is this verse that inspired me to write poetry.

"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
     What a beautiful Pussy you are,
         You are,
         You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!

- Edward Lear

A Lonely Man's Disgust

This poem is about anger for  not being desirable to others, thoughts of killing those who have relationships, and those people who are considered the beautiful people. Death to love in general.

Crush, burn, grind, saw, destroy powder of unfriendly love,
man and woman buried face down in dust;
a lonely man's flaw raped beyond belief,
blowing  back fire from his cauldron underneath;
Endless passion for vengeance to say the least,
crush, burn, grind rubble of a lonely man's disgust.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
2-20-12

Closed Casket

This is a poem about rejection, loneliness, isolation, and despair as a result of being made to feel that he/she mean something to other people only to be blown off, left out, and ostacized for no reason but because he/she is alive. Thus the metaphor "Closed Casket" is symbolic for isolation, loneliness, despair, and gives th reader visions of death because the ostracized feels like he or she would be better off dead..even though it won't really matter.

Expendable existence gone just let me die,
bury me for my love of mankind;
Close my casket, keep it closed,
I have been executed, stabbed from behind.

Burn me for words of anger I reveal,
hate for those who perpetrate betrayal,
thoughts of blood baths and killing fields,
evil raging quietly in my eyes,
in my head, in my mind,
fatal actions which may take some by surprise.

Close my casket, keep it closed,
burn me beyond recognition, feed me to the sharks,
my ashes cannot be scattered;
Another lifeless body stiffened and reduced to dust,
dead and gone with peace, good will,
my coffin of imprison locked, it does not matter.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
2-20-12

Holding Back

This is a poem about having all the potential in the world to do whatever you want to do in life and yet something holds you back from accomplishing your goals.

Potential beyond life behind discouraged eyes of blue,
hidden beneath God's shell of protective flesh and blood,
voices of darkness taunt me to stand still.

What's a lively soul plagued by sadness going to do?
I feel, I see, I hear that I can manifest thunder with love,
Why hold back on dreams waiting to be fulfilled?

Strength electrifies my heavy heart with turning moods,
something in the way stops possibility with grudge,
my lightning attempting to shatter the still.

Days-on-end pass me by alternating brightness of sun and moon,
hope exists but waits for release from deep down under,
my caved house of shrill.

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012

I won't Be Feeling It For Long

This poem is about the negativity present in the soul and the guilt that is felt because of the obsessive hate that is repeatedly thought of in one's mind. For someone feeling these feelings life may be more punishing then death. As they get closer in age to their demise the words, "I won't be feeling it for long"are felt inside the tormented.

Only love in life is hate,
it warms my heart at night
and shortens my breath when I speak,
all hard work down the drain
with nothing to show but pain,
you in your glory and triumph,
as I realize I don't belong,
Don't worry, I won't be feeling it for long.

Could have been me casting victory to the sun,
what should have been has never prevailed,
pitch black darkness endlessly reigns
and I try frantically to remain sane,
as the dream I once grasped fades away into gone,
don't worry, I won't be feeling it for long.

On the surface things are not what they seem,
flooding water drowns the living inside,
all false happiness washed off my face,
destroying my false facade of grace,
what has happened to the boy
who could never get enough love from the sun?
Don't worry, I won't be feeling it for long.

Trapped in a catch-22,
not a single soul understands what I say,
everything is alright
until you find yourself in the depths of there,
then, only then, will you know how I feel,
think about what you said was wrong,
why I realize I don't belong?
Why I won't be feeling it for long?

Paul Hickey Copyright @ 2012
2-15-12