The Sun and I

A few natural occurrences I request
To behold often, consume, and digest.
Like how the sun rises and sets;
For all life continues as consequence.
Yet, I must stop every time and stare
Deep into the sunset's fading glare
And wonder with whom I might share
Such a warm and delightful tapestry
Brushed into existence with majesty.
Even though it seems to occur naturally
I can't help but gasp, thankfully.

Even the sunrise, though it's no surprise
It opens the day so strong,
You would think the day never dies;
But you would be so wrong.
All things conclude in this life,
But I would like to be your delight
Throughout the day as segue to night
Living my life worthy of attention
And to leave with honorable mention.


Michael Nicholas Hallak
For Laurie Robinson

Rough Neck Truth

This is not another exercise,
Not an empty metaphor.
Nothing in my rhyme will compromise
The truth that I'm searching for.

Slip a word amidst a multitude
Like a prophetic interlude,
I knew it was coming soon!
Behold the battered and blue,

The black and bruised crews;
Don’t be confused fools,
Filter out the word play
And dissect without delay,

Cuz the truth hits hard!
Hit the wrong area, it’l
Leave your heart scarred

But you gotta take your licks
Cuz folly will only get you so far
And so far, that sand looks quick;
Stuck like molasses and tar.

So keep a tough skin for the contact,
Cuz truth comes like a contract:
Read the fine print or risk combat
With all sorts of concealed compacts.

I suggest you go back to the Source,
Or find a way to improvise your report,
Cuz an empty metaphor or exercise
Won’t yield you any truth,

Only your poetic demise.


Michael Nicholas Hallak

The Unalone Chapter III: The Top

He was sitting in the subway station
On a foggy London evening
He did not sit there for recreation,
He was moving on, he was leaving.

There was no shadow on his appearance
Something different guided him
Instead, a confident smile of perseverance
Reflecting the truth he resides in.

There is a magnitude of power in his gaze
A thoughtful, perceiving stare
He seems to be a navigator in this maze
Past the confusion, past the despair

I heard him speak; his mouth flowed grace
It was the sweetest encouragement,
And like an echo resounding in the place,
He declared Christ as a testament.

He was by himself, nobody to travel with.
Wandering alone it seemed,
Seeking truth with nobody to unravel with,
But he was contently serene.

I then realized that he was well put together,
Traveling with his corner like a contender,
All inside, Unalone, but unhindered!
With enough grace in him to be a winner.

I knew then that he would reach his destination,
Filled with Christ, the pinnacle of creation,
With no debts owed to darkness, to Satan
Shining bright, with a host of angels waitin'

He stepped onto the train of life, Unalone,
And his dedication to the Heavenly throne
Cannot be left up to any other interpretation.
Praising God, living under no condemnation,

The man is me; Together, I made it.


Michael Nicholas Hallak

The Unalone Chapter I: The Bottom

Always looking normal from the outside
Daylight covers over the reality inside,
It is Inside the sly partner resides
Directing all thoughts and being the guide.

His eyes are murky: the windows of his soul.
He was only a boy when he gave up control,
Amidst the protection and beautiful patrol,
He died a little, and the night took a hold.

He makes decisions without a conscious thought
Thinking for himself is all for nought
He awakes to find himself dismayed and distraught
With a torn conscience and a mind to rot.

The beast from within, it resides under his skin;
At his finger tips seething through his grip
The blood rushing from the head to his hips,
He kisses the night with the palest of lips.

He is only a vessel, and his body is nothing
His soul is a meal for one more cunning
He cannot escape; there is no point in running
So he sits, with a physique so stunning,

It is too tough to be chiseled out of stone;
Not from training, but from rage and groans.
Although by himself, he is Unalone;
There is a horde sitting at his heart's throne,

And together, they won't leave him alone.

Frozen Flowers

Frozen flowers like days long ago
preserved in a frosty freckled glow:
The memories sparkle like still-life
Offering no warmth. But a boy-blithe

In the hazy impressionist tapestry,
Takes the form of a fragmented memory
And captivates the mind's majesty;
Never forgotten, or end up a tragedy.

Like all frozen fossils, written in stone,
Past deeds and occasions perpetuate.
All is recorded in the book beside the throne,
And the future is what we have to celebrate.

Whether to repeat a fond masquerade,
Or to wear a different effrontery,
Decisions compile, accrue and cascade
Onto a sea of experience unto me.

A frozen flower sharply describes
My wonderland of a permanent scribe.
If all beauty could be recorded,
And frozen flowers be afforded,

Then the beauty I behold
When I am alone
Will be fathomed by all,
And not just the Throne.


Michael Nicholas Hallak

Solitude

There's a time where
In the midst of all the chaos,
The noise is too much to bear
While we humbly carry our cross.

Now is when we retreat
Ready to release the tears,
A way to rest our feet
And to calm down our ears.

My ears bled one occasion
From being so disrupted;
I hardly noticed the situation
For my senses were corrupted.

This world dulls our senses
Until we no longer perceive
And we mindlessly believe,
The noise is relentless.

This is the time I close my eyes
And put aside the medicine
That the doctor prescribed
And settle in with shut eyes,

Not for simple sleep;
But for focused solitude:
A mental harvest to reap
For creative thoughts accrued.

Stop and listen, be silent.
Filter out the violence.
Watch your footprints
On the highway of misfits

And dedicate these moments
On the interstate of atonement.
Dilate your ears to stillness,
And hate the raging illness.

Then Come back to reality
And perceive all the fallacies.
Life offers us lies.
See in silence,
This is where the truth resides

In solitude. True truth resides in solitude.


Michael Hallak

Introduction

I wanted to start fresh with a place to document my poetic work. I've had this blog registered for a long while, but I have primarily (and almost exclusively) used myspace for my online exposure site. I am going to be managing both now, but with more emphasis placed on the RhymeHallak blog, as I am rather fed up with myspace, and I have fewer and fewer readers as people close their accounts. This is more readily available to everyone, so I want to post here. All I want is for my posts to be read and contemplated. If you got any questions on my work, let me know, I would love to answer them.

Michael Hallak