Behind Closed Doors

My life is perfect
My future is clear
My professional life
Is going strong
But no one can see
The tears I cry
Behind closed doors
 
No one can see
The lonely tears I cry
Behind closed doors.
 
©2014 Alex Hicks

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

Silhouette of Distortion

This is the first time that I’ve written with David Ellis over at TooFullToWrite. I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed writing this one as he is an expert at artistic expression and amazing at creating flow and emotion as well. I hope to write more with him in the future, so go over to his blog and follow him. Enjoy!
 

 
A carnival for the soul, rampant silhouette of distortion
Glass shatters, razor sharp, mercilessly unforgiving
Tarnished to within an inch of life’s sacred essence
Misleading impressions, imposters full of indifference
 
Simple shattered memories, like a broken picture frame
A reflection of the past relived, a reflection of the shame
The lies we only tell ourselves, to ease the mighty blow
Life’s cruel twisted, torturous fate that we’ve all come to know
 
Love’s tender kiss cuts, echoing through onion skin layers
Fragile sea of ecstasy, illuminating strangers tiptoeing before us
What kind of creature will be conjured up today in this barren house?
Vanity vacuously, viciously, plays its deadly game of cat and mouse
 
One must question reality, as the eyes of thousands watch
The ears they listen closely, but they don’t hear very much
As waves and waves of strangers words crash upon the shore
If they succeeded or they failed, doesn’t matter anymore
 
Smoke hides what’s inside only for so long before it dissipates
Foggy veils now lift, delicately expose, frustrate then intimidate
To become comfortable in one’s skin can often take the course of a lifetime
Accept yourself and your perfect flaws then the mirror will no longer be a burden
 
The monsters we keep from ourselves that in our minds reside
Will ease their torment, fade to black, and vanish over time
The voices of the thousands, that echo each and every day
Will slowly lose their meaning with every word they say
 
Until nothing is left but the purest clarity
Radiating and driving forth in its singularity
Allowing us to be triumphant in the face of adversity
As we ultimately muse on forgotten misconstrued inadequacy
 
©2014 Alex Hicks and David Ellis
 
Thank you for reading! Again, be sure to head over to his blog and follow him.

A Duet – Beyond the Truth

This is written by myself and Hastywords I’ve done a lot of writing with her in the past and she remains to be an amazing poet and friend. Go check out her blog!

 
How do I overcome
This pain of a broken heart
How do I fix myself
I don’t know where to start
 
I feel overwhelmed
Disabled inside this emptiness
You left me hollow and numb
Inside a suffocating loneliness
 
Do I embrace the dark surrounding me?
Let it comfort me with its touch.
Or do I build my walls and shut it out?
Like the pain that hurts so much.
 
They say breathing is all it takes
To survive this painful dark
Lungs on fire, fighting my will
Oxygen struggling to leave its mark
 
So long bound by chains of passion
Only to be freed and bound again
By this pain of isolation
By the pains I hold within
 
I will sit alone in this dark
Become accustomed to its silence
Then perhaps someday
I’ll peer beyond its shadows
 
To the place where stars shone bright as suns
Where the sunlight filled my eyes
In my world where everything was right
beyond the truth and lies.
 
©2014 Alex Hicks and Hastywords

A Promise

Poetry to me
Is the words without the sentence
The way each one flows from your mouth
With all the grace and serenity of a dove
But still holds all the weight of a thousand lifetimes

The way it somehow touches your emotions
Without directly touching you
Like a phantom of the feeling used to write it
A ghost of unexpressed love
Or a spirit of forgotten fears

To some people it’s just words
But to me it is emotions
In the physical form of words
A feeling in my heart
Making a promise with the universe.

©2013 Alex Hicks

Want to Feel Something Real?

Here’s a little bit of free verse that I threw together this morning. Let me know what you think.

You want to feel something real?
Loss is something real
It’s a feeling of regret
A feeling of emptyness
A feeling like theres a hole in your chest
right next to your heart
and if you look insite that hole
you can see your heart
beating
beating
beating
And it wouldn’t be so bad
If you were the only one looking
But you’re not
The whole world is looking
Looking at your heart there
thumping
thumping
thumping
in your chest.
some may try to help you hide it
but no matter how hard they try
that feeling is still there
the feeling that the world is watching
staring at you as you cry
as your tears
drip
drip
drip
down your face.
You wish you could turn away
You wish they couldn’t see you
You wish they could see through you
like they can see through the hole in your chest
But part of you
part of you wants them to see
Part of you wants someone to be there
Someone who can hide you from the world
Someone who will catch you when you fall
Someone who won’t poke at your heart
Or try to cover the hole
But someone who will sew the wound together again
With strings pulled from their own heart
And that’s when you realize.
Everyone who is watching
Staring at your still beating heart
has a hole in their chest too
right next to their hearts
just
like
you.

©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

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.
 

 
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
Echoes
Echoes
Echoes
 
©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

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