Travis J. McRoy

A Poem, The Albatross

It isn’t The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, but I sure had fun putting it together. The thought of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner came to mind last night, and then I dug in a bit revisiting the whole superstition on the bad luck of killing an albatross. Needless to say, I wrote a poem about it, haha!

We are but two men; how will we live
The albatross will guide us across the sea
A man licks his lips, thinking of the meat it can give
Don’t kill the albatross, or we’ll cease to be
Waves crash as the weak rigger sings
Emaciated and bemused, he slurs
The albatross lands and rests its wings
Hunger takes over as his vision blurs
You killed the albatross, doomed we are
Water crashes and cracks the ship
It plucked my eyes out, provoking the spar
As the curse of the albatross takes grip
In a glorious crash, the men were swallowed
The ship sails to land with the deck now hollowed

Let me know what you think!
Thanks for reading!
Travis

A Poem, The Death of Death

I had planned to use this poem in my novel, Curse of The Walking Man, but it ended up not fitting. While The Walking Man uses death as a great equalizer and is a grim reaper of sorts, I found it essential not to sympathize with such a foul beast.

I lurk in the shadows, not too far behind
If you won’t be willing
I’ll drag you along, so don’t be unkind
Cry and plead, but it is you I am killing
Childish petulance because you were spoon-fed
You did nothing wrong but go meet your maker
Keep it up, and I’ll send you below to walk with the undead
I’m just doing my job, so it’s time for the undertaker
What is this light that shines so bright
I did nothing wrong but just my job
Why it is me, you come to smite
My deeds of beneficence misjudged now I sob
You’ve warned me before I continue to whine
Please do not send me where the light doesn’t shine

Let me know what you think!
Thanks for reading!
Travis

A Poem, In Pieces

At some point in our lives, we’ve all faced adversities that have shattered us. We collect the pieces and continue with life in any way that we can. I wrote this poem a little while ago, and it encapsulates the impetus of our return.

I collect the pieces in a jar
I do not want to be broken
I say as I wish upon a star
How can this be are the words unspoken
Cracks dance across my face like lightning in a sky
I hide alone up here in my tower of fears
Away from the accusing eye
I put myself together with glue made of tears
I did no wrong, but I am shattered
Surely death would set me free
Because my fragments remain scattered
My impetus has come as I rise to a knee
I was in pieces, but I did not fall
I’ll continue to collect myself until I stand tall

Let me know what you think!
Thanks for reading!
Travis

A Poem, The Lonely Zombie

I wrote this at the height of the zombie craze. I figured I would unleash it on the world at some point, and then I misplaced it and completely forgot about it. I finally found it a few minutes ago.

The living run from me in fear
I stagger because I’m starving
I let out a strain but they still won’t come near
With my teeth your bones I’ll be carving
I don’t discriminate I just want a friend
Why will no one stop and talk to me
My feelings hurt I just want this to end
Just give me a bite and I’ll set you free
Is my look off-putting
It’s a compliment for me to chase you
Finally, someone lost their footing
Please stop I just want to chew
I am the lonely zombie looking for a meal
Why does everyone run away like it’s a big deal

Let me know what you think!

Thanks for reading!
Travis

A Poem, The Whipping Boy

My wife was describing a part in a show she watches. She was telling me about how one character takes so much abuse due to the other characters’ mishaps. Naturally, I blurted out, “oh wow, like a whipping boy?” —-And there we go, I had a topic to keep me busy for the day, haha!

I clued her in on the details of what precisely the whipping boy went through in his life. In summation, I told her, “he was a scapegoat for the prince. If the prince did something wrong, they’d whip this poor boy.”

Then I got thinking of what it would be like in his position, and I wrote a poem about it.

My pain is your pleasure
What have I done wrong
My loyalty long enough to measure
Through the pain, I remain strong
The prince committed a transgression
My skin cracks and begins to bleed
Due to an ill-fated confession
I fight back the tears as I plead
A whipping tongue spews words of beration
My eyes blur, and my ears ring
As the crowd shouts words with elation
Why do I allow this pain with a sting
I am the Whipping Boy, a scapegoat for the spoiled
With a deep breath, I swallow the hate that has boiled

Let me know what you think!
Thanks for reading!
Travis

Dad Mode Activated

We all have tons of work and projects to complete, but it is essential to put family first. For me, it is my “dad” hat.

Whether it is singing in the car:

Or being a pillow:

It is a duty I take very seriously. I know that those little eyes are watching, and I know those little ears are listening. So I make it a point to instill the proper values in them. I want them to see and hear that I was always there for them growing up. I love to make them laugh even if it is at my own expense, which usually it is!

The stresses of the day hold no dominion over this call of duty…

Dad mode activated…

Short and sweet, thanks for reading!

Travis

A Poem, The Valley of Bones

Another macabre poem with inspirational intentions. The bones are longing to be returned to the living.

One day we will rise up
The cracks in my bones tell my story
We need to drink from the cup
And we will be restored to former glory
We lay here in solidarity, littering the ground
No flesh is left, but a crow remains
I cannot wait to feel my heart pound
Eager for life again, my soul attains
Our bones clatter and crack
The glaring sun sees our pain
As we begin to rise in unison, we clack
Our moans and groans let out with a strain
We are the Valley of Bones alike, after all
A euphoric feeling as our flesh continues to crawl

Crazy how unpredictable inspiration can be, this poem is loosely based on Ezekiel 37, The Valley of Dry Bones.

Hope you enjoy!
Thanks for reading!

Travis

A Poem, The Gallows

Continuing with this kick of dark poetry that I am on, here is a macabre little nugget that I whipped up…

Swinging in the wind
Ironically with exuberant life
Waiting for the one that sinned
Hearts in dire torment bleeding strife
Around the necks
The hangman calls
Another life it wrecks
Pull the lever, the floor falls
The noose whispers and sings
Death lurks near collecting souls
The rope of the gallows swings
As the ferryman collects the tolls
A thousand ghosts stare at the gallows
As they hear the tolling of the bells of All Hallows

Let me know what you think…

Thanks for reading!
Travis

A Poem, The Jar of Flies

I figured I would share another poem riddled with torment. It focuses on the brokenhearted people who have had their hearts ripped out and left alone to heal. In the end, some become jaded, never fully regaining the heart they once had, ultimately replacing it with something to fill the void. In this case, it was a jar of flies. The flies buzzing around in the jar give the deception of feeling something where the heart belonged.

Pouring love upon you like rain
From my bed of broken dreams
I traded my hate for pain
You laugh while my soul screams
You set your sights on my mind
While ripping out my heart
While I was blind
My chest, now torn apart
A jar now rests inside
Replacing my heart so I can feel
Accompanied by blackness, it now resides
Under this deception, I begin to heal
You are a mask of disguises riddled with sorrow
I’ll hide my jar of flies until it is morrow

Let me know what you think…

Thanks for reading!
Travis

A Poem, Almost Love

I wrote this poem a few years ago, and it chronicles the emotions that one feels when you are with someone that you know is not good for you, but you keep going back despite knowing it is going to end at some point.

Your taste and touch still linger in my mind
Why did we depart
I lassoed the moon for a love that’s blind
You stole my heart
I wake from dreams in rush
Your side of the bed cold
Quickly my dreams crush
With no love to behold
The corners of my mind crack
So I gather the jagged fragments
With a trickle of hope you’ll be back
Collecting the pieces as sentiments
It was almost love but our world came crashing down
We abandon fate letting emotions drown

I originally wrote this poem for two characters who experienced this feeling of “almost love” and feel it does ring true to reality.
If you agree, send me a like!