John DeBona Poems
The Human Condition
When good and evil are divided equal There's half the hope in which to cope
Blade Of Vengeance
Blades of vengeance... hammer striking... Barbed in flesh... impaling spike.
Pulled Across The Razors Edge
The honorless, you sit in a pathetic pool of shit. You think you took the one I love? You fool! You don't have a clue of what's important to me. You think you rake me over coals?
I want to breathe rain. Feel the summer mist running through my veins. I want to ride the clouds. Soaring free on the edge, high and proud.
Roses And Chocolate Milk
Half girl, half woman. Victoria Secret and the Disney channel. Roses and chocolate milk.
Love Of My Life
If I were to lose you I think I'd lose my mind so get some sleep and something to eat
End Of The Trail
Every step full of pain, a step farther away from my home. All I knew as a child, now memories and flames. The fear of darkness weighs on my back. I'm burdened with worry but I can't stop to cry.
My Ex Sister In Law
Your nose is long and crooked, your hips are big and wide. Your voice makes me nauseous, I want to run and hide. Your hair is quickly graying, your skin is sickly pale. Your body is full of problems, and your breath is awfully stale.
Twisted Metal And Acid Rain
Twisted metal and acid rain Scream out loud to kill the pain Peeling skin and senses out Fall before the next blackout
Chalice Of Death
Drink from the chalice of death. Swallow its bittersweet poison. Struggle for your breath. Die in a lonely prison.
Art Of War
The general scouts the battlefield stone faced, hardened by war. His blood is cold, an icy stare. He listens,
Clouds drift across a blue winters sky. Wind blows, snow falls the solstice has passed. The crocus sheds the bonds of silence and breaks through the chains of ice.
The Place Of Vengeance
Waiting for the fall, vultures circle over. The smell of death, cries on the wind. The accuser waits in ambush. Hiding in its lair.
I cried on the first day of school. I felt like a fool, on the first day of school. Dad made up words, a bit like Pig Latin. The teacher held up a picture of a monkey.
The first rays of the morning sun illuminate the horizon,
life begins to stir.
Birds begin to chirp, and the moonflowers gently close.
Dew on the grass glistens as tiny droplets, and if you look at them right
you just might see the colors of the rainbow.
As I slowly move under the warmth of my covers, halfway in dream state,
I smell your scent, and only for a moment you are here.
I wake alone.
Time to move, get up and get that first cup of Joe.