We Fight and We Will Win

I push and I push and I push
You push everyone away.
I push away the people I love.
But not her.
I’m afraid
you’re so afraid
That she’ll leave me.
Just like the rest did.
Yet, she promises she won’t.
So why do you keep pushing?
She hates seeing me like this.
You hate yourself like this.
She tells me that she loves me
But you don’t love yourself.
She says she wants to be with me
But you don’t want to be with yourself.
And more than anything I want to be with her.
Then you know what you must do.
I can’t fight it alone anymore.
You never really had to.
Anxiety has taken so much from me
Then don’t let it take any more.
I’m going to make one final stand
You won’t be standing alone.
I won’t let this win.
WE won’t let this win.
This battle may be done
You’ve lost a lot of ground.
But the war is far from over
We’ll stand behind you always.
I fight so I can be with her
We fight so you can be with you.
I fight so I can be with me.
We fight to keep your sanity.
She’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me
you really love her don’t you?
Yes, she is my everything.
Then we fight so you will not lose her.
We fight so I will not lose her.
We fight and we will win.
We will win.
©2014 Alexander J Hicks

Hail To The King

Hail to the King

Hail to the ruling king
The torturous flaming blazes sing
The fall of truth to royalty
Be true and show your loyalty

Hail to the ruling king
Murderous betrayers bring
The dogs of war let lose en mass
Resistance strong but not to last

Hail to the ruling king
On your knees and kiss his ring
You can climb but he sits higher
Serve him true or face the fire

Hail to the ruling king
The war and famine he will bring
His people starved, begin to fade
He’s chased them all into the grave

Hail to the ‘ruling’ king
Not ruling over anything
His people lost, dead and gone
Yet won’t admit that he was wrong.

Hail to the foolish king
Devils dance and angels sing
As he falls from his golden throne
He’ll watch the flames consume his home

©2014 Alex Hicks

I Need a Superhero

Break in case of emergency
I need a superhero
To beat away the dark
To show me what the truth is
And tell me where to start
I need a superhero
To guide my falling star
To help me realize that this evil
Isn’t all we are.
I need a superhero
To pull me from my past
To ease the torments of my mind
And let me sleep at last.
©2013 Alex Hicks

My Hate

It wasn’t such a long time ago
That I was deep in my own version of hell
I pushed everyone away
I wore armor made of jokes and sarcasm
I pretended to be having fun
When i was secretly fostering hate
for everyone and everything around me
And openly fostering hate for myself.

It’s not a pleseant feeling,
Feeling that there’s something there
Or rather that there is nothing there
Where there should be something.

Something to fill the hole in ones heart
where love had once stood
But had been ripped out of you
Over the span of five years
Ripped out of you
By someone who you wanted to care about
Who wanted you to care

And at the end of it all
When I ended it
I felt nothing
You had made me numb
Dulled the senses
Numbed the pain
Removed the part of me that could love.

But over time I got it back
I built up walls to keep people away
So I could heal
So my heart could heal

And it did.

Sure I still foster that hate sometimes
It’s a remnant of my past
A remnant of those memories

And sure, when that feeling arises
I worry that I’ll loose control
That my mind will go where that place in my heart went
And then?
She speaks…
She comforts me…
She speaks softly to me…
And everything is okay.

The hate in my mind stops hating and just listens
It laughs with me when she tells a joke
And it stares with me when I stare

The voice that calms the savage beast.

So sure, I worry about that hate
But never while I’m with her.

©2013 Alex Hicks

The Dreamer

Hi there everyone!

So if you all recall I wrote a series of poems a little while back that depicted a dreamer meeting a girl living in his dreams who he fell in love with. As the poems progressed he fell deeper and deeper into those dreams, and recently I wrote a little bit of a story to go along with those poems. I’ve made the PDF available for download as well should you wish to keep it in paper form. Best part? It’s free!

Without further adieu I present:
The DreamerDear Reader

Part I: The Voice of an Angel

After watching a lot of crime dramas I guess you could say that my dreams always had a hint of mystery to them. In this case when I fell asleep I heard her voice. I didn’t know who she was, but I did know that I wanted to find out. Every night I hoped for more but the first few night were all the same. Then on the fourth night, everything changed…

Part II: Dreamer’s Vice

 At first I was confused, every time she spoke my dream changed. I heard her crying high on a cliff face for a brief few moments before I woke up sweating. This was the closest thing to a nightmare I have had in many years. A few weeks later however, things would get better.

Part III: Return to the Dream

I hadn’t had the dream about the love of my life in a few weeks and I was starting to get discouraged. Not only by the fact that I wasn’t experiencing those dreams, but by the fact that I wasn’t dreaming at all. My dreams were nothing but darkness.

This led to a period of insomnia during the last week, and by the end of it I was hearing her voice whispering to me from behind me on the sidewalk. Of course, she wasn’t really there.

After day 7 of insomnia I was finally able to get some sleep, and by some sleep I mean I slept for 22 hours.

I was back with her again, or her voice anyway; she was telling me that I couldn’t sleep because she wasn’t there. She was out looking for me. I was skeptical at first, but looking back at it, I know this to be true…or at least I thought I did…

Part IV: Illusions of the Moon

After only two days of the same dream. I was back in an old familiar place; or rather a lot of old familiar places. Remember that “nightmare” I had ? Well, I was back there again; but everything was…different.

Everything had…changed.

Part V: Beneath the Cherry Tree

It took almost a month of the same dream before this one took over. In the real world I had quit my job, sold my car, and never left my house. I spent my days searching through online databases and talking to dream analysts in a desperate attempt to find her.
Everyone kept telling me that she wasn’t real; that I was schizophrenic, or that it was a fluke that she appeared to me on so many occasions. I know they were wrong though. They couldn’t have been right. She spoke to me on the city streets; mind you it was a whisper, but she spoke.

My sister kept sending doctors by the house but they couldn’t find anything wrong with me. I know why they couldn’t find anything wrong with me.


Part VI: Face of an Angel

Then I saw her face. She was the definition of beauty. The definition of elegance and  grace and serenity. I didn’t yet know her name, she had not spoken it.

They said I had gone insane. I had barred all of my doors, my windows were boarded and I spent most of my time in bed. I just wanted to be with her again.

When I saw her face for the first time I wasn’t able to get to her. There was an invisible wall holding me back. I was starting to think even my own thoughts were betraying me, but how could they be? They’re my thoughts.



Part VII: The End of a Dream

It had been three months since I saw her. I hadn’t had the dream since. I actually started dreaming about cartoons again. Life had pretty well returned to normal. I was released from the psych ward as they said that I was fine.

But they were wrong.

She was all I thought about every waking moment of every waking day. But that’s okay; I would be with her again soon enough…

Part VIII: Echoes

And so, here we are. This is the dream; you and I are the dreamers. Welcome.

The Dreamer


Thanks for reading everyone! Please let me know what you think of this story and if you think I should do more stuff like this.

Again, the PDF is available for download by clicking this link: The Dreamer

Downloading this file lets me get a feel for how many people would want a physical copy of some of my work, and thus help me determine if I should put together a little bit of an anthology of some of my better works.

Again, thanks for reading!

Alex Hicks

Part VIII: Echoes

Part I: Voice of an Angel
Part II: Dreamers Vice
Part III: Return to the Dream
Part IV: Illusions of the Moon
Part V: Beneath the Cherry Tree
Part VI: Face of an Angel
Part VII: The End of a Dream
Part VIII: Echoes

I wrote these two poems a while ago, and I completely forgot to post them. They’re a continuation of the series of poems I was writing at the beginning of this year.
I realize now the hidden truth
The facts about my life
The closing doors the final scores
That cut me like a knife
The dreams I had where she would speak
The ones where I would cry, so weak
And the times she lightly touched my face
Then disappeared without a trace
I decided to leave the real world behind
Not because of the people but because that I find
It is the only place that we can be one
To prevent my life from coming undone.
My dreams is the only place for this love of mine
That the only place that she exists and now
So do I.
©2013 Alex Hicks

Part VII: The End of a Dream

Part I: Voice of an Angel
Part II: Dreamers Vice
Part III: Return to the Dream
Part IV: Illusions of the Moon
Part V: Beneath the Cherry Tree
Part VI: Face of an Angel
Part VII: The End of a Dream
Part VIII: Echoes

I wrote these two poems a while ago, and I completely forgot to post them. They’re a continuation of the series of poems I was writing at the beginning of this year.
Part 8 - Echoes
I haven’t had the dream again
Since the time I saw her face
I with things hadn’t ended then
Hadn’t ended in that place.
I doubt I will have them once more
For when I dream I see
A blackened room and single locked door
But her voice is there with me.
It gives off a radiant glow
That I’m sure rivals the sun
And I’m comfortable in my little box
Even with no place to run.
But even still when I awake
I wish I had seen her face
But once again as I walk the day
She is gone without a trace.
And all I hear are
©2013 Alex Hicks

United as One

I wrote this one with A Shade of Pen. She’s good friend and amazing poet so be sure to check out and follow her blog.
A little smile on her face
And I was knocked by the power of it
Could she be the girl of my dreams
Or was destiny playing with me?

A smile graced the corners of her mouth
And it shook me to the core
Could this be a passing fad
Or is it something more?

A million questions invaded my mind
Yet, all I felt was the throbbing heart
No star could match the brilliant shine
That I saw in the twinkling of her eyes

Her eyes, I couldn’t look away
The most vibrant of blues
I couldn’t help but stare
Pulling me into their hypnotic gaze

I fall deep in them shamelessly
I have nothing to hold on to
As I feel like I’m in a trance
That makes every part of me come alive

I never wanted to stay away
I want to get lost in the beauty of her hair
The softness of her skin
The comfort of her touch

I explore the curves of her face
Every inch a perfection in itself
If ever an angel walked on Earth
I was sure, She was the one.

Her words would chill me to the bone
Pull the ground out from under me
And when I fell
She would catch me in her loving embrace

I can fall on her to hold me
Even when I am going through stormy times
There is nothing that shall hold my heart
Like the eyes that currently drown me

The world will fall away
As the scent of carnations surrounds me
And I would float there
Lost in her gentle embrace

Together we will ride the waves
That love will conjure
The moment freezes forever
As two souls finally unite to one

©2013 Alex Hicks and A Shade of Pen

What Makes a Poet

What Makes a Poet
Writing a few lines of verse
Doesn’t make you a songwriter
Just as a few letters on a page
Doesn’t make you a book writer

Rhyming words strung together
Does not a poet make
Nor are you a singer
With a few notes on the page.

But every poem must start
By a single written line
And expanded with experience
And tempered over time

The ability to write
does not make a poet
You can know what a pen is
But not know how to use it

See, what makes a poet
Is not the ability to write
It’s the emotions of the artist
It’s the driving will to fight

It’s the experiences had
That really make them think
Emotions boiled over
In some simple drops of ink

©2013 Alex Hicks

Why I Write

So I’ve been playing with homophones for the past couple days and this is the poem I came up with.

You’ll see it when I walk the aisle
Pens will blaze and you know I’ll
Shed my poetry like fur
While keeping fresh like winter fir
And with the sunrise in the morning
We will all be busy mourning
For all of those who will be missed
As our tears fade to morning mist
Her tears will fall as she raise her veil
As the morning sun greets the vale
And clouds roll in bringing rain
The end of me and of my reign
This is the story that I sell
My mind is like my prison cell
The bars in here aren’t made of metal
But broken in by my own mettle
I’m not famous, not an heir
But writing comes to me like air
A perfect pillow without a seam
My writing is more than it may seem
I tell you all what I have seen
Just like a play at end of scene
I’ve seen so many exit stage right
And that is why I choose to write.
©2013 Alex Hicks