No New Sense

March 31, 2009
By
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Squeal.
Went the door of the new as he appeared.
Some say the look on his face resembled fear.
Hands trembling, knees knocking, and shaking as he drew near.
Heart pumping like the bass in a Camaro rear.
He took a deep breath, down his face came a tear.
Thought of where he was before, but now he’s here.
The music was great before, but now he can’t hear.
No sound he heard, it seemed unreal.
He was heard by those at home, but now he cant hear.
If he took a step through that door, he knew he would seal
The past.
But he wants his past to last.
He wants his old back.
The new can never compare to what he used to have.
But what he used to have is the past.
He was forced out of the old, into the new.
He was forced to the red from the blue.
Out of the heavens he flew, he dropped, he landed in hell.
Lost and alone, by himself in this unfamiliar world.
Back at home his friends missed him, and he was missing his girl.
Similar to an infant being pulled out into earth, the world.
Earth was his home base, now he’s in Jupiter.
In his new planet he speaks, but is unheard.
Chirping loudly, but the aliens don’t speak bird.
So in his new home, he is to remain unheard.
The squeal of the opening new door was the last sound he heard.
______________________________________________________________________________________

Darkness,
Is what was on the other side of the new door.
No light, no color spectrum. Crayolas scattered to the floor.
Empty box of crayons. Color. There was no more.
No light, which means no color he can sort.
The bright old door contained colors source.
A sky of blue in which rainbows soared.
A yellow sun so bright, yellow concentrated the blueberries core.
The new door, midnight black was galore.
Taking a step through that door meant he would see no more.
Blinded from the new, he would see no more of
The past.
But he wants his past to last.
He wants his old back.
The new can never compare to what he used to have.
But what he used to have is the past.
He was forced out of the old, into the new.
He was forced to the red from the blue.
Out of the heavens he flew, he dropped, he landed in hell.
The new door was so dark he couldn’t see.
Scared, lost, and alone, so he prayed on one knee.
Back to the visible old door, he wish he could flee.
New was so different, so he didn’t fit in because different he didn’t want to be.
Into the darkness, he didn’t want to lean.
He wanted to flee from the chained cage and leave.
But he can’t, because he’s locked in, and in darkness is the key.
No more light, so darkness is all he can see.
Bitter.
The new doors breeze is how it tasted.
The strong taste of an overly concentrated medication.
Slithered down his throat and emotionally penetrated.
To the taste of the new door, he showed hatred.
Because the old door was sweet. It’s leftovers, he could taste it.
He missed it’s candy, in which he never wasted.
Strawberry shortcakes, the old door could bake it.
But now he’s thrown out of the bakery, tasteless.
All he could taste was the bitter breeze from the new.
Trapped in new’s trap, he could taste no more of
The past.
But he wants his past to last.
He wants his old back.
The new can never compare to what he used to have.
But what he used to have is the past.
He was forced out of the old, into the new.
He was forced to the red from the blue.
Out of the heavens he flew, he dropped, he landed in hell.
From the bitter wind, his jaws began to swell.
The bitter taste of this unfamiliar realm.
Hasn’t had full flavor yet, but from the pre-taste he could tell,
That by entering the new door, he would be entering hell.
A muzzle on his mouth, so he could only savor it’s rusty inner shell.
By the force he tripped and fell.
No turning back to the past,
For this new bitter taste he was forced to impel.
______________________________________________________________________________________

Stench.
The nauseating scent that entered his nose.
Took no step in the door yet, yet he knows,
That beyond the new door a strong odor flows.
He lusts the fragrance of the old doors rose.
The old door full of incents, it’s oceans scented.
Sweet fragrance of flowers relentless.
Never backing down from the path to his nose.
His love for his sweet smelling past he shows,
But he was forced to the new door and it’s odor he loathes.
He knows he loathes the new smell so his nose is froze in
The past.
And he wants his past to last.
He wants his old back.
The new can never compare to what he used to have.
But what he used to have is the past.
He was forced out of the old, into the new.
He was forced to the red from the blue.
Out of the heavens he flew, he dropped, he landed in hell.
On his own, he’s alone. Holding his breath, so he can repel
The revolting, eye-watering, cruel, and gruesome smell.
The smell of the new doesn’t always smell well.
For the strong odor has caused his nose to frail.
Weakening his nostrils as he starts a new trail.
Into the new he’s starting a new tale,
In which no one knows, so no one he tells,
How the stench is weakening his emotions and he can no longer smell .

Pain
From the new door is to penetrate his skin.
Terrorize his heart, then torture his spirit within.
No way to the old door. New he is to begin.
By the force, to the new, he was pushed in.
Having to let go of the old door, let go of his old friends.
He felt no resolution, no escape from the new door’s hinge.
He had no choice. Forward. He must go in.
A new room full of demons who sinned.
He wished to turn back and run to his old pen.
No choice but to cut old’s connection. Connection of
The past.
But he wants his past to last.
He wants his old back.
The new can never compare to what he used to have.
But what he used to have is the past.
He was forced out of the old, into the new.
He was forced to the red from the blue.
Out of the heavens he flew, he dropped, he landed in hell
From the flames of this new place, old connections began to melt.
Fire as rain, rained on him. The heat he felt.
Lava flowed down the drain, as the sky continued to rain pain.
The rain’s pain soaked his skin and penetrated his spirit’s felt.
Praying to rewind, to the past, as he knelt.
He lost all, so he wonders if God failed.
He prayed for God to drop cold hail in hell,
But at that time, the pain of the devil’s rain was all that he felt.





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

aaron D. said...
Apr. 15, 2009 at 6:25 pm
thank you. sorry about the spacing between the five poems. i posted this from a really slow computer
 
johnnyboy22 said...
Apr. 13, 2009 at 6:26 pm
this poem is amazing man! keep up the great work
 
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