“Utopia” by Tony Hanes

 “Euphoria is medically recognized as an emotional and mental state defined as a sense of great (usually exaggerated) elation and wellbeing. Technically, euphoria is an affect, [1] but the term is often colloquially used to define emotion as an intense, transcendent happiness combined with an overwhelming sense of wellbeing. The word derives from Greek εὐφορία, "power of enduring easily, fertility" *wikipedia

I woke up
Looked at the other side of my bed
It was you
I fell back into a deep sleep
"Smiling"

The "Sun" and "Ocean" collided
Out the window,
 "Birds" assessed the beach for scraps.
An image called hope,
 appeared through the clouds.
I sat up escaping sweet dreams,
continuing to “Smile”.
Tired,
I laid back down.

As the alarm clock,
had a discussion with the future,
I sat up again.
Breakfast,
 cracked the crevices of my nostrils,
I "Win".
I knew you were the one,
we both started to"Grin".
I remember when I found you,
a love affair with no "End".
Still “Smiling",
I laid back enjoying the Aroma,
with no reason to "Frown",
whenever you're around.
This is how "Completness" sounds.

Love like this ran past “Euphoria”
Speeding
Unreal
Unbelievable
Heaven within each heartbeat,
"Inconceivable"


The End

"Gleam of Light" ..short poetry

Looking out my rear view mirror,
I could see bliss,
disappearing in the fog.
Each mile driven,
was a detour,
away from comfort.

The End

"Indistinct" (very short poem)

Disaster strikes the minds of most.
How does one cope,
with visual poisons and delusions?
The confusion is a plot by intelligent minds,
who offer sleeping gas,
to the average citizens design.

The End

SADE "A Relationship Sour" - Dedication Poem

Sade is my favorite female singer so this is why I had no choice but to do a little freestyle on her. I used her song titles. Obviously :)

 

On my balcony, I watched stars dance around the moon,

 lusting for communication.

We use to "Cherish the Day", when each hour was like "Paradise".

I must admit, "This is No Ordinary Love”.

A year ago, I thought I was a "Smooth Operator",

 as I approached you in the local Jazz Club.

I was arrogant and naive at the same time,

talking about "Nothing Can Come Between Us",

once you groove to my mellow movements.

I must admit, I'm stupid.

My siblings, each preached the gospel,

 after six months of mental torture.

Damn, this “Soldier of Love”,

is the definition of mental torture.

Your passion is magnetic but,

"It’s Never As Good as The First Time",

Well…………Sometimes.

I was determined to ignore everyone because,

 love is "Stronger Than Pride".

Maybe this was lust, maybe you run from trust.

My Aunt called you a "Jezebel",

but you’ve given me "The Kiss of Life".

I would like to “Hang On To Your Love”,

even if it kills me.

Hell, this “Mermaid” actions,

just might kill me.

"Is it a Crime",

that even though we fight a "War of Hearts",

I still love you?

Somewhere in the middle of this Institution,

I seek refuge from you but I remain stubborn.

You are the Vulture, eating at my remains.

Mentally, I stay "By Your Side",

there is no need to "Keep Looking".

Maybe, I’m going insane.

Tonight,

I serve as the "King of Sorrow".

I BELIEVE IN YOU.

I'm Stupid.

This is “A Relationship Sour”

You use to be Sweet.

”Why Can’t We Live Together”?

You use to be so Sweet.

Without your armor,

 I know longer have a “Bullet Proof Soul”.

 

The End

"By The Boardwalk" (short poem)

A strong tide touched the sand,
as Crabs made my acquaintance.
At a Distance,
I watched them Kiss.
By the Boardwalk,
A strong tide took me away.

The End

“Beautiful Struggle“

The....Beautiful Struggle...




-Dedicated to my future wife...

We woke up to a sensual sunrise,

as the tide started to subside,

our dreams began to collide.

Beside me, there is hope.

Within ecstasy, we “still” strive for more.

I never knew love like this before.

This is a beautiful struggle,

no more pain will you ever have to juggle.

I've learned to recover as well,

true passion has allowed me to exhale.

To experience the "definition" of life,

destroys any doubt in my soul.

We stand bold,

not knowing what the future my hold.

Finding you, I know I struck “Gold”.

Melting within your kiss,

the “beautiful struggle” continues.

Thirsty for you, I drink the nectar of joy,

not one "drop" is missed.

Our menu of elation,

make others around us jealous.

“They” can’t understand THIS,

Most can’t fathom the deepness of "sure" BLISS.

So, I fight the "beautiful struggle",

trying to wrap my head around this intensity.

Attempting to believe,

that you really "happened" to me.

I see nothing move around us,

we are caught in the matrix.

Two characters molded from ancient stanzas,

living forever on poetic pages.

The End

(c) TonyHanesPoetry2013

“God-Realization…In My Eyes”

“God-realization, according to Indian guru Meher Baba, is the highest state of consciousness and the goal and ultimate destiny of all souls in creation. Ultimately the ego weakens through endless expression of itself in many lifetimes of experience, finally disappearing completely in full Self or God-realization.” *wikipedia

On the rock it stated
“Here resides the bed of a tired soul”
No more battles with Mother Nature
The wind blew
All walked away
Until everyone is at "Rest"

Before rest,
there is struggle.
On the "journey" to visit the most high,
we look back in disbelief.
Family members "wave"
Tears slowly fall,
and melt into "yesterday".
The "grave" marks the cave of dreams.


Now,
he is one with the most high.
I sigh;
knowing one day it will be my turn.
I laugh,
because we use to laugh together,
now forever,
is really "forever".

Carved on another lonely rock,
were the words...
“In My Eyes God is Real”...
I slowly got into the car,
humbled with a depleted ego.
Until we meet again,
I will visit you my friend,
on these quiet grounds,
bonding us "Eternally",
bonding us until "God wins".


The End

"Love is a Battlefield" by Tony Hanes

(Pat Benatar Dedication)

As the loud yells shot through each ear,
I wondered would I run out of ammunition.
Discombobulated,
The opposite of elation.
Gravitation now the figment of the imagination.
Each side is so resistant.
At one point we were so persistent.
Now we stand opposite of kinship.
The soldiers approached with vengeance.
I sat on the porch reminiscing on a period,
Where the cracks in my heart were not yet visible;
Physical.
In Pain, my flag waves for forgiveness on this hill.
Still, I feel both sergeants didn't fulfill all duties.
Today, I view myself as an individual.
Analytically, I gathered pieces of the past,
and attempted to decipher when war began.
"Love is a Battlefield"
The field of dreams appears sad behind gray clouds,
And the thunderstorms of lies and deceit defeat;
Reconciliation.
Our troops stand at attention.
We use to pay each other attention.
Did I mention?
Countless passion throughout the night.
Tonight, we stand here with fully loaded clips.
Treason against Cupid.
On the count of three we commit marital suicide.
We died 10 seconds ago...
"Love is a Battlefield"
Only bloodstains remain on these grounds.
During the last heartbeat I saw Purgatory---As
The loud yells shot through each ear---I'm here

The End

“24 Hour Seat” (short poem)

Waiting for a Brighter Day
I pray
To the God of life to grant me
Peace and Grace
I paced through the walkways of life
Attempting to see that gleam of light
That allows warmer evenings and nights
Sun rays of laughter and joy
Please
Allow my family an abundance of years
With less tears
No cries
So when it's time to say good-bye
My head can nod with content
Waiting for a Brighter Day

The End

“Aroma” (short poem)

“Aroma”







 I gathered each scent of perfume,
you left floating in the hallway.
Gently placed the fragrance,
all over my favorite pillow.
I inhaled a part of you each night,
in order to remember,
the fundamental purpose of life.


The End

"He Sucked the Pearl Tongue Juices" (Adults Only)

"He Sucked the Pearl Tongue Juices" "He who would search for pearls must dive below."-John Dryden (British Poet-R.I.P)






Act 1:

In an exclusive position,
he attempted to "swallow",
a few of life's gifts…what a "present".
The "Shaking"… was Unbearable
Shivering…Emotions…Shattering
They believed each night was Magical
Invisible crowds saw "unbearable" Madness.
In Agreement,
Each Moan was "Mutual".
Sensual movements caused Rhythms to Collide deep ..."Inside"
They understood a day contains only "24 hours",
so they changed positions.
He stood at "attention".
She creamed with mean ...."intentions"

"He sucked the pearl tongue juices"

She "Smiled" and "Cried" at the same time
Orgasms produced never ending "Waterfalls"
They "chased" them religiously.
Deep
Moist
Sticky

Extreme pleasure,
Introduced guilt to a "Fatigued Comforter"

Drip…Drip…Drip…Drop

Act 2:


Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock
"He sucked the pearl tongue juices"
Seconds…My God…So Fast
Minutes…Two souls…Ignite and Clash
Hours…"Ooh this Love is So",
blasted from the stereo.
Lust devoured each breath,
leaving only a little "oxygen" to caress.
Her toes,
Curled and Folded.
Only concentration could "hold" her…
She asked for "forgiveness"…He denied her Plea
Continuing to "fold her" over...
His mouth
Stayed full
Tasted Ecstasy
Jaws,
Stayed numb from "Assertiveness".
The strawberry bush,
"camouflaged" the premature mustache.
A sexual ambush..


Act 3:


The pearl tongue started to "Rain" again
Her "pearl tongue" destroys expensive Umbrellas
Two set of sheets "permanently damaged"

There is no antidote!

Puddles of "elation" sink through each mattress
Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock
Around the clock,
"He sucked the pearl tongue juices".
By this time,
another song creeps into sound.
Keith Sweat's "Make It Last Forever",
blasted from the stereo.
Nobody was physically "around"...SO
They made a video
Her "Thighs" filled the Camera
No longer a private show
Lust that was promised to be a secret,
was cursed when his "finger",
hit the "enter" key.
Now her pearl tongue,
can be viewed externally.

“A Little Piece of Sadness”

“A Little Piece of Sadness”
Some mornings I encounter a little piece of sadness.
Internal thunderstorms soak the dreams of happiness.
Earthquakes shake the stability of my consciousness.
I reach for several people who are no longer here.
I fear,
more bad weather will appear.

Some evenings I encounter a little piece of sadness.
The evolution of of my smile is challenged by death.
In life, the three of you provided me with visions of Paradise.
Now the clock display Hades,
when I view obituaries in my album book.

Some nights I encounter a little piece of sadness.
Not even the Stars shine bright enough to see your spirits.
I hear voices but my imagination plays Russian Roulette with logic.
This is the reality of more negative forecast to come.
Dress warm-

The Green Mile...
The Upper-Room...
Even though each day is a blessing,
the curse is when you outlive “LOVE”.
Sometimes I encounter little pieces of sadness,
waiting on the “Birth” of what lies ahead.
Internal madness-

The End

“Arthur’s Slice” by Tony Hanes

“Arthur’s Slice”
Internal battles paint wars of emotions.
Devotion, once a word with power,
Now hide behind showers of doubt.
Rain continues as our words fit no more.
Contemplation has become my best friend.

As happiness becomes an enemy, I lose focus.
Walking down the corridors of sadness,
I stumble into the spirit of hope.
Reaching for you with no success,
Drives hope back into the inferno.

With a burning heart, I give up.
The Four Horseman ride swiftly towards me,
Death is drawing near.
As you take off the engagement ring,
My head is sliced off by a great Knight.
Nothing else to fear…


The End

“You Finally Defeated My Smile"

Yep, you finally defeated my smile.
I held on for a while but now,
I submit to "loneliness".
Your persistence,

Led to a victorious battle.

The crown,

Can now rest firmly in your lap.

I wait,

For what I pray to be a swift "execution".

A swift date with fate.

 

 

 

Yep, you finally defeated my smile.

I observed you each day,

Playing Russian Roulette with my "emotions",

Slowly watching me decay.

I don’t recall,

You ever pointing the gun at yourself.

I guess I always knew,

There was no hope left.

 

Yep, you finally defeated my smile.

I realized the destination of our relationship,

Years ago.

When you truly love a person,

It’s hard to “Let Go”.

As the sharp blade completes decapitation,

I see white horses,

My body is no longer warm,

We made our own choices.

As the blood starts to squirt,

The pain disappears,

And no longer "hurts". 

 

 

The End

 

“A Victim of Circumstance”

Each passing moon,

Any person can become,

A “Victim of Circumstance”.

Discrimination that place casualties,

On a mental plantation.

Segregation,

From all that is “fair” and “just”,

Has become an unfortunate reality,

That has start to cripple “US”.

We lust for equality.

Minorities, Woman, Gay’s,

And even Atheist,

Are somehow punished,

For what they believe.

Who they are on the outside,

Or dreams from deep within.

Why are they described as Outcast,

Why is this considered their “Sin”?

They are often,

“A Victim of Circumstance”.

They are often,

A victim of Men.

Mankind has set a new precedence.

You can no longer “Think” for yourself,

So you hide,

In another person’s beliefs,

Never gaining spiritual wealth.

You become “A Victim of Circumstance”,

You live this until you die.

Each passing moon,

Your hair turns gray.

You live this until you die.

The End

"We All Have An Expiration Date"

On the Journey of Life,
there is an expiration date,
we must face.
Often taking countless breaths for granted,
it's easy to forget,
 each minute is "actually" forever.
Each minute is tied together,
with the Sun and Moon,
often dictating the weather.

During each eye-blink,
storms can appear in the form of illness,
accidents and tragedies.
The remedy to life,
 is an appreciation of every moment,
you're awake.
There is a Calendar set just for us,
a moment that documents our fate.
Yes its true,
We all have an expiration date.

So, be happy you have this opportunity,
to live a wonderful life.
Some souls perished,
during their trip to Earth.
Never seeing birth,
a fatal crash with a miscarriage.
Millions lost battles,
 with an abundance of casualties.
Large proportions,
in the form of abortions.
Yet,
your family tree made another decision,
allowing you to taste,
a small piece of existence.

Therefore; you should embrace life,
with dedicated persistence.
Nature’s air is provided by Mother Earth,
inhale her loving blessings,
learn to cherish your self-worth.
Now,
get out there and live a little,
there is no time to waste.
We all have our journey to start,
we all have an expiration date.

 

The End

"F*ck Toys" by Tony Hanes (Adults Only)

A dial tone echoed relentless anger,

after the words “Fuck Off”,

disseminated into the atmosphere.

No longer content with being a “Fuck Toy”,

Toya spit inebriated venom into his right ear.

A tear hit her Double D Blouse,

as life on the plantation was no longer allowed.

“Joy” was yearned but incomplete as a “Fuck Toy”.

After Party text messages,

influenced by a “Liquored” mentality,

always lead to the usual sexual favors,

their only “TRUE” reality.

The eventual passion to love this man,

was struck by segregation.

Only the water fountain of “Lust”,

could be shared in this situation.

Ted sat on the corner of his bed,

the corner of an emotional ledge.

In his hand,

the Blackberry stood motionless.

Afraid of true commitment,

He knew his “Fuck Toy” was now broken.

Chances of tasting that pudding again,

appeared to be hopeless.

She wanted him more devoted.

He wanted her more focused,

on his selfish desires.

A forest fire started to retreat.

Wood burns,

as smoke escapes his chimney.

Waking up from a deep sleep,

Ted realized “Love” was his new enemy.

The “Fuck Toy” had moved on.

“Fuck Toys” are temporary-

“Fuck Toys” at times are necessary-

“Fuck Toys” serve a purpose,

and generally become stagnant in “Time”.

When the Titanic hit the “Iceberg”,

We know there will be a sinking of the ship.

Each person serves a role in our lives,

Most “Fuck Toys” are destroyed,

never manifesting into a “Relationship”

"The Crack Baby Blues"

I sing "The Crack Baby Blues" with an invisible choir,
sharing "notes" of reckless desire.
We formed an alliance in 84',
 but when 85' hit,
you abruptly became the streets biggest "Hit".
No longer a secret,
you depleted families,
that were once considered complete.
Once considered unique.


Visiting us from a foreign land,
your arrival was not by chance,
or an accident.
A Government experiment gone wrong,
this song has a deadly "Remix".
A "Fix" that weakened an entire generation.
This Nation,
prompted another Civil War.
Ghetto Poems,
scream echoes of pain,
that flow through the veins of addicts.
I sing "The Crack Baby Blues".
Yellow brick roads of tragic addictions.
Lives that once mimicked art,
now a beautiful picture departed.


Ten minutes of Euphoria,
transform bright souls,
into "Night Of The Living Baseheads".
The poor hide from life's mirrors,
leaving their souls faceless.
I sing "The Crack Baby Blues".
Harmonizing in pain,
psychosis becomes a reality.
Hallucinations,
are shared with the audience.
They clap in unison.
Numerous "Fatalities"


People yearn for an "Encore".
The "Fiends" shake for more.
I sing "The Crack Baby Blues" with a tear.
Each year,
we're told to forget about this era.
Rich Americans,
exit the auditorium together,
"humming" enough time has passed,
this is no excuse for poverty and crime.
Tell that to Ronald Reagan and Oliver North,
while young men and woman continue dying,
or being sent up North.


The End

"The Priest"

 In 1911 A.D. you were given privileges,
to guide nations through meditation, prayer,
and positive communication.
The documentation you studied,
must have been tainted before translation.
Authors of these manuscripts,
must have been drunk,
from elaborate wine tastings.
Dedicated families dating back centuries,
have been affected,
from countless acts of indiscretions.

The deceit and "Unnatural" lifestyle,
cannot be overlooked.
You are a spiritual crook,
stealing the lives and pride of so many.
Crimes ignored so they hide in "eternity".
How can you stand in front of others,
preaching about eternity?

This letter to your "Institution",
is not just about Religion.
An oath was given,
for you to carry out divine services.
We should be blessed,
not stressed from the lack of currency,
and child pornography.
Do we worship only what can be purchased?
The doctrines suppose to be inspired,
by "the father", "the son", and "the holy ghost".
Voices from molested children,
cry out in horror,
 like they saw "the holy ghost".


Man is one with "Nature" therefore;
living life with an unnecessary sacrifice,
can only lead to temptation.
The Priest,
you deny the feast of a beautiful creation.
An eternal sexual "vacation",
cause many of you to prey on the youth,
throughout various "nations".
Thousands of years have passed,
with false representation.
The Priest,
I'm asking on behalf of the "people",
for your Resignation.

The End

"She Died In My Lap"

 In my lap, the Warden called for,
23 hour days of "solitary confinement".
A comfort where feelings were once free,
now suffocate in a miserable place.
Light years from grace,
oxygen struggles but begins to evaporate.
As the temperature start to rise in this "cell",
we understood this was life without bail.
These were Prison walls not jail,
a little closer to eternal flames,
a little closer to "Hell".
Mouth to mouth can't sustain us,
as kinetic energy,
ignite our transition into "vapor".

Operation lockdown assured no "escape".
I created these gates.
Now you CRY in "seclusion".
In my lap you lose more and more life,
as I hold your nose far from air,
far from light.
There are no "civil rights",
that can change this plight.

This road of direction we tread down,
is worth more than my mention.
Rather, my complete attention;
but I'm stuck in my own pit of demise.
The Gas Chamber or Lethal Injection,
would be most fitting, not a surprise.
I don't deserve to ever love,
or "rise" again.
I guess for the 100th time I can say,
I'm "sorry"...again.


The Judge,
provided us both with a steep sentence.
You were an accessory to my crime,
you had no idea of my intentions.
Laws were broken
You were my "Trophy"
You were my "Token"
As your heart stops beating,
I hope for a "painful" death for myself.
In my lap,
you shed one last tear.
Your body now rest in the “infirmary".
I wish you never heard of me.
This burglary,
force me to dangle over a bridge,
called "tomorrow".
I sit in the "Yard" forever cursed,
with my new lover....."Sorrow"

The End

“Obama’s Birth Certificate"

“Obama’s Birth Certificate"

"We did not vote an individual in office who was not a citizen. This "Birther" conversation should have never been discussed in the mainstream. I believe America looked foolish to the rest of the world for entertaining this topic. If we did elect a President who is truly not a legal citizen, the Federal Government would be responsible for the negligence. -Tony Hanes, Poet.





The other day I visualized a "Birth Certificate",
but most of the words,
were covered in "blood".
"Stains" smeared signatures to the point,
where several "names" were no longer legible.
Letters disseminated into the atmosphere,
away from remains that rest on slave burial grounds.
This location is where identification was never proof,
 that you were ever truly accepted,
as a legal member of this "Nation".
In the "eyes" of many,
you will never be the "Commander-in-Chief",
regardless of Sunday morning prayers,
and shared spiritual "beliefs".

I heard echoes in the night from citizens,
who argue that The President,
is not a "True American",
and that he doesn't share the same Religion.
Maybe the name "Hussein",
remind skeptics of Osama bin Laden,
because Ann Dunham,
decided to call her child Barack Obama.

From Hawaii to Harvard,
dedication towards academics,
can now be inspiration to youth of "All Colors".
Where is your Birth Certificate Sir?
Your mother,
might have misplaced these papers,
with your Grandparents who raised you.
Now they degrade you with aggressive plans,
to replace you.
A lot of people "hate" you.

We are all renting space in the United States,
where "The Natives" were so gracious.
Ships sailed from Europe, Africa and Asia,
now we have "A Constitution",
written by illegal aliens.
Your life and the life of all Americans,
is worth more than a "Birth Certificate",
or "Death Certificate".
Our past is tainted with racism and violence,
but I "stand"  firm ready for War,
with my "Commander-In Chief",
with no "Vital Records" in hand,
only a "belief" in Freedom,
the equality of "MAN".

The End