February 23, 2018

They push it in our faces,
But they never see,
What it is to live alone in the world,
When you are someone like me.

Caretaker, with no carer,
Heavy heart, no barer,
They tell me life is more than sorrow and pain,
So when do I get to come in from the rain?

No matter what I do to impress,
All falls backward, a regress,
Love still a four letter word,
Lines between me and what you see blurred.

Never was asking for diamonds and gold,
Just a chance to share the light you hold,
See many unworthy suitors at every throne,
Meanwhile time ticks, and I become unknown.
Thomas Spychalski


I’m Your Regret

February 9, 2018

From where we stand, cannot get you to smile rightly,
Can’t get that love that shines in you so brightly,
Something missing been gone a long long time,
Love and despise this shine I snake-oil mime.

Then the programming calls my drives,
From what I hear, once a way to survive.
Beaten into me how low I could get,
Angels I’ve teased my greatest regret.

Here I sit hurting myself in silence,
Last call, last act, lost child’s defiance,
This should be long gone in the rearview,
Get good, see light and run away anew.

I don’t want to be your regret,
The one who could but hasn’t yet,
If I hurt you think of the wounds I self-inflict,
Just to get to my twisted view of perfect.

Wishing it was not this all through the days,
I see what I ignore, what I throw away,
Want to sleep, not in death but in ignorance,
Mind stripped of this old pestilence.

Now make me hurt, it’s all I know,
Make me miss you every time you go,
So sorry I could not be your king but your pawn,
Still regenerating, for every dark day one more dawn.
Thomas Spychalski

Never Never

February 2, 2018

Am I deserving of this love and praise?
Cannot see my heart through the Haze.
You see I always take the strain,
Some parts of my tired brain,
Have come to close to insane,
But ironically its the madness you may love.

Never, the madness of pain, but the madness to save.
Never, the drenching of rain, But something to stave off the dark.
Hear my heart, Broken people lead the parade,
Fear from the start, Can we drop the charades?
It’s all I ever asked from the start, are we not better than misleading games?

Here I sit, thrones at ready, always been there any way you see,
Sucked from me an early sense of worthy, now we sift hilariously sad debris.
So I can change the record on the rockola, I can somehow from broken glass inspire,
Have you ever watched me overthink, cripple myself and conspire?
Beads on the forehead, perspire when it becomes time to enjoy mine?

Only the broken know the way out with fewer bruises,
Like the wicked see well more than a good man ever uses,
Outside the norm, the tress grows its eternal roots,
Damned, you may know the vines, but not the shoots.

Guess I’m confused, why do you see light in these crumbled shards,
While I know I am getting better, it seems to come in inches not yards.
Doors I sealed shut, lessons to be repeated, meant to be for me,
Give you eternal puzzle, tease you with gold, why can’t I let myself be?
Thomas Spychalski 

I Have Seen Rainbows

January 28, 2018

I have seen rainbows,
After darkness killed the sun.
Storms moving West now,
There is no need to run.

All the things we faced while it rained,
Perfect wizards casting perfect spells,
Life was not broken but just strained,
Not walls but a newborn out of its shell.

I have felt the winds,
That moved the foundations.
Nothing but a breeze again,
I need no explanations.

After the darkness always comes the light,
Balancing nicely once the moon sets,
The past made us into steel, we will fight,
Fling ourselves into future no damn regrets.

I have seen rainbows,
The prism it gave me lies within.
Fabled treasures lay at my feet,
Not at the end but at where we begin.
Thomas Spychalski

Writer’s Serenade

January 26, 2018

I want to make love to you with words,
Get down and grease you up in dirty verbs.
Talk about ‘freak’ but haven’t you heard,
This is the new sex darling, not so absurd.

Let me take you to places only I can imagine,
We can live there in decent/indecent fashion.
Buckle those head belts, seats securely fastened,
This love cannot be severed or rationed.

Let me sentence you, to sentences of English lust,
Don’t believe that skin, but in the soul, we must.
Wipe off that vanilla scent of redly golden rust,
Besides truly in the inner and outer who do we trust?

Paragraphs laid out in sweet dark temptation,
Take my hand, equal now, no more trepidation.
My prowess is my head, a nasty beautiful reputation,
Don’t try to reason now, lost in bliss, no equalization.

Follow along through the once created rabbit hole,
Don’t you see your hidden prominent godly role?
If I put you in words, you’re my heart and my soul,
Now tell me sweetly, do you really wanna go?
Thomas Spychalski

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Persisting Scramble

January 16, 2018

I guess you can not be like me, and lord knows I can never be like you,
Loneliness beyond virtual strikes cold, empty, so we do what we do.
Weld on the costume I have to carry, plastic smiles and context unknown,
For every step of growth, every forward advance, still on our own.

I can say I don’t care,
Empty home, seldom shown,
The scars from the tear,
Hollow silent halls, frustration falls,
Addicted to pain and sorrow,
Sugar and spice burned Christ,
What will you let me borrow?

Stonewalled by the scent and the old attitudes,
In the corner, forever the foreigner,
Heinlein’s stranger in much stranger platitudes,
Like lost Valentine, drenched in wine,
Milestones you sell me in busted media,
Rat hunger reaches pitch, click his switch,
So nice of you not to come, nice to not see ya.

I guess we are all just scrambling, searching, rambling,
For the world to ink us with its inept discount branding.
Tie me to those tracks or just forget the ticket let me climb aboard,
I know why in the end it is how it is, I will not whore like you’ve whored.
Thomas Spychalski

Frozen Sirens

January 15, 2018

Frozen beneath the cold depths,
Where she took her final steps,
Statuesque like a chiseled piece of art,
Still, nothing kills her burning heart.

Reaching out silently forever,
To have a final touch, be together,
Currents move around her breast,
Can you hear her heart beat in her chest?

Siren’s call, and such a lonely song,
The body still, the soul so strong.
Seafloor holds her, but not her aching passion,
Forever of stone, body yearning, face ashen.

Tonight she rises from under our feet,
Take back the life stolen, circle complete.
And when the deed is finally done,
She will return, she and the waters are now one.
Thomas Spychalski

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