Trollskinner

A song from our newest album, Trollskinner is based on the movie Troll Hunter, although I wrote the lyrics from the perspective of a hunted troll.

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Abomination of Creation

I wrote this today while at a particularly low point. Reflection is often a curse to me for some reason. My mind over-analyzes far too many details of life and leaves me feeling a failure, a coward, alone. I drew comparison in this poem between the act of awaiting execution and awaiting forgiveness, both requiring the subordinate to kneel before the master of his fate.

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Ballad of Monkey Boy

Just thinking about how sometimes the person that is there for everybody else often times has nobody there for them when they need it.

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Lost and Bound

Not sure how to define the process here...lets just call it "cold purge." Some ideas hit me and I needed to get them out. Triple meaning here for me: personal, religious, and secular.

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Immortality of Sickness

This is a three-headed beast. One part inspiration from The Strain, one part creating/brainstorming a character for the annual family Halloween party, and one part self-reflecting parable.

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Thief in the Night

Those that know me know of my desire to be abducted by aliens, not to be probed, just abducted. I could use some cosmic enlightenment. I want immortality and a free ride to just travel through space and admire all the galactic handiwork of the multiverse.

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Hellworm

A familiar theme in my writing through the years, though this one is fairly recent. I believe I wrote this last summer.

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To Find the Peace in Madness

Melancholia came to visit again today...she doesn't come around as much this year but when she does, she stays a while...I'm trying...

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Army of Eyeless

I decided to focus myself and write a poem today. This is about a set of characters from my novel I've been working on (for years). "Technical specs": 11 syllable isometric lines, aabb rhyming stanzas...or something like that...

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Battle Hymn of our Fathers

This is a song I wrote and recorded many years ago (15 years ago?). The recording isn't the best, due to my limitations then...I was using a PC microphone dangling from a coat hangar propped on my desk in such a way as to let the microphone hang even with the sound hole of my acoustic guitar. I didn't know then what I know now about recording (which still isn't a whole lot) and I used mostly first takes if they "weren't too bad"...anyhoo, here it is...be kind

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Discontent in Misery

I honestly don't even remember writing this other than I know it was about 2-3 months ago. Apparently an infection I needed to get out of me...

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Leechbreed

Wrote this tonight while watching an episode of The Strain. I find it pretty cool when one artistic medium inspires another.

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Stain of Disease

I wrote this poem as an interpretation of a painting I came across in the Boise Art Museum, the title and artist of which have been lost to me. 

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Disciples of Abaddon

Those that have known me for a considerable amount of time probably know that I have been working on a "universe" of religious horror fiction. This poem is told from the perspective of a main character known as Khaen (pronounced caw-'en) and was written and recorded for my band Ashes of Abaddon. Have a listen!

Copyright 2012 Ashes of Abaddon

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Last Night in Hell

Some dark lyrics to a song I was working on...

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Sir Rants-a-lot presents: Isolation Woes

Seems like a good place to unload a rant since the chances of offending anyone here are slim to none, and its been weighing heavily on my lately. Ever wanted to unload your life’s woes on the ears of a friend who will listen without judgment, reservation, or disgust only to find that a friend of that caliber may not actually exist?

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Executioner’s Lament

Few people know this, but before Andromeda by Ashes of Abaddon was recorded as an instrumental, I had written lyrics to it called Executioner's Lament.

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Contagion

I have struggled with self-worth and self-esteem for much of my life. I've come to understand in recent years that this is not a character flaw as I have previously thought, but rather a personality trait that has driven me to overcome adversity in unique ways. I think this is why I listen to the music I do and write the music that I do, because it speaks from a dark, helpless place but forges with aggression a will to rise up and overcome. Written in three parts, Contagion outlines three internal dialogues: confrontation with myself in the mirror, first person self-narrative, & third person self-reflection with the last line being an invitation extended to others.

photo by Max Chavez

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Wanderer on the Road to Ruin

One of the very first poems I wrote, this was originally started as a song sung to the first chords I learned on the guitar. I'm not sure I remember how to sing it though, so put your money back in your sock, 'cause I aint a singing it!

 

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Fortress of Pain

Multiple meanings and hidden subtexts riddle this poem. Sometimes when I write I sheath my themes with more cryptic, metaphoric passages, while other times I bare the blade in its full shimmer. This poem has more hidden themes for me and I actually just recently finished writing it, as it had only a few lines for quite some time.

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Beast of Hades Gulch

I wrote this as a scene from a larger body of work that I have been working on for several years. I had this grand scheme of writing a poem for each chapter and then recording an album of all the poetry put to music...like a metal musical of my horror novel...yeah i get a little carried away 

sometimes...It could still happen one day...

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Aggression of Oppression

I find religious themes often presenting themselves in my writing. This is an example of just that.

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Caveblind

The legend of Cain, Christianity's first murderer. Some speculation exists that Cain was cursed with immortality, punishing him to wander and suffer in his own torment, and that he was given a mark to prevent anyone from killing him lest the wrath of God descend upon them sevenfold. Speculation also exists that this sign or mark of Cain was that of a loathsome, hairy beast, resulting in becoming master to the race of Sasquatches. Drafted out as potential lyrics to a song, Caveblind is my ode to the "Squatch of Cain."

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The Cube

I picked up a used book several years ago because of its square shape amongst the typical rectangular shaped books. The description on the back of the book was this: "The Cube is an imagination game—and more—that holds a secret you are dared not to reveal. Last seen making the rounds in the coffeehouses of Eastern Europe, the Cube is rumored to be of ancient Sufi origin, but no one really knows for certain. This mystery game just seems to reappear when and where it is needed. Now it is here!" I took notes of my imaginative experience and wrote it down as follows...

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Tribal-esque Drawings

These are some drawings I did a while back. Pencil, then ink, then scanned and tidied up a little. Are they good? ...not really...kinda pixelated...I would definitely convert them to a digital format differently if I were to do it again...

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'69 Chevy

There may be some factual errors such as the year of the truck in the poem (I think it may have been a '67 or '68) and the make of the truck in the thumbnail photo here (it's actually a '79 Ford), but the poem is based on true events from my childhood. A poem about learning to drive. A poem about losing a pet. A poem about growing up. 

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Though Scars Remain

Here's a little something from the more God-revering side of me...

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Trust No One

Don't really remember where I was mentally when I wrote this one, but it was not a pleasant place from what I can tell from reading this.

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Misfit

Self-loathing and feelings of helpless hopelessness make up the metaphorical nature of this poem.

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Take This Cup

Death and love have been intertwined by authors through the ages. Mutual death being the ultimate level of romantic commitment, or the act of securing a jealous partner's commitment to the other, either through suicide or homocide. That being said, here's my addition to that theme.

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Moonlit Majesty

This is a poem I wrote about lycanthropy, which was later written into a short story. I had grown tired of all the buzz around vampires and romance, so I wrote about the misdeeds of a shapeshifter.

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Echoes of Eternity

Another poem I wrote as part of a college class. Its tough not to look for the worst in myself, but I gotta remember that not everybody sees me the way I see myself.

Before me a mirror reflects a man, a crude block of stone

on which appears no master’s mark, nor blade on which to hone.

The jagged edges and cracks of strain, a statue yet unformed

denies existence of foundries far from whence itself was torn.

Never to be a majestic peak or monument of kings,

nor hallowed chapel that from within a throng of angels sing.

I must at once unlock the stare, the mirror cannot lie.

Through my own eyes the truth be seen, a hopeless mass abides.

To place a mirror behind me though, the mystery reveals.

I see now more than my own face, posterity fulfilled.

The eyes of my children look to me, I stand much taller now.

Their rock of safety in the storm, my strength to them I show.

Reflected are also ancestral lines of generations, past

fathers and mothers whisper as the breeze among grass.

Hereditary drawings in the caverns of the stone

when deciphered and interpreted give power to their own.

For with a mirror in front and back, reflections never cease.

The chain of life extends beyond the realm the eyes can see.

I view again that slab of rock, raw yet opportune,

recalling its noble birthright from the mount that it was hewn.

It must withstand the storms of time to reach its destined form.

Tears of rain and angry winds give shape where once was none.

All the while unknowingly bearing the master’s mark-

a polished gem, one day to become more than a mere ember in the dark.

by Derek Herzberg

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Puerto Nuevo

I actually wrote this poem as part of a college course. Not my usual style nor subject matter but I ended up really liking this one. The coast has been an annual vacation for nearly every year of my life. I find it peaceful and rejuvenating, and yet mysterious and  foreboding. The ocean almost seems to beckon me to wade out until I'm forever lost in the tide.

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Leland

This is a song I wrote the lyrics and guitars for as a tribute to one of the greatest television series of all time: Twin Peaks! Recorded (and performed on occasion) by Ashes of Abaddon. Give it a listen. 

Guitars: Justin Kurth & Derek Herzberg
Vocals & Bass Guitar: Jesse Wetzel
Drums: Brett Widmer

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Inner Monologue of Ramblings Shared

I've been feeling this overwhelming urge to complete unfinished business lately, like finish recording songs I've written, share my poetry, finish up some story ideas, etc. In doing so I'm taking a huge risk exposing things about me I've prided myself in keeping hidden behind my wall. So now as I sit thinking about things tonight I'm wondering if there's a pending doom in my life. Does my soul know something tragic is coming that the rest of me doesn't yet know? Why the need to share the years of my inner turmoil and demented creations? I'm feeling rather perplexed, but in a peaceful, driven way. I know that seems contradictory. I have been an emotional recluse for so long, I'm really wondering what is happening to me...

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Farewell Embrace

I wrote this poem as an attempt at filling in the gaps of a familiar story. It's obviously not historically or religiously accurate, thereby rendering it as "Historical Fiction Poetry." 

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Unanswered Question

This one's gonna get a little dark. I don't actually remember when I wrote this one, but as someone that has struggled with depression, writing has been one method of exposing my feelings in an attempt to cope with them. This is a recurring theme I've noticed in my writing through the years. I rarely read old poetry after I pen it, but to look back on some of these darker times makes me feel a little stronger knowing that I survived whatever it was that I felt was dragging me down.

A branch to be pruned before it’s in bloom

Thorns in my knees and blood tainted hands

Praying in brambles with no light of moon

Misery’s pleas outnumber the sands

A sanguine bath blurs my eyes

Why do I have to be alive?

Wings of a dove clipped just before flight

Falling in spirals of destiny’s making

Just as the arrow shot swift through the night

A nightingale silenced before it can sing

Corpse of mortality covered in flies

Why do I have to be alive?

Drowning in pools of cold memories

While warm blood is trickling down trembling limbs

Coughing, I feel my lungs start to seize

The match will not light amidst circling winds

Desperately sifting life’s sands filled with lies

Why do I have to be alive?

I call to the Heavens, entreating demise

Gathering black skies mocking my plea

Boots of my conscience having muddied through time

Endless my suffering, Death, set me free.

Why do I have to be alive?

  by Derek Herzberg

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Brain Damage

This is a song I wrote back in college on an acoustic guitar as a jam song. It had 3 chords and a riff. Originally called Psychopollution, the song was renamed to Brain Damage when I started working it into a homage to the thrash metal bands I cut my teeth on. Lyrics available below.

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The Maiden and the Lonely Dragon

          This began as a bedtime story I used to tell my oldest daughter. It was short and simple at first. Every few nights, however, I embellished it and added new details to maintain her interest. It quickly got to be too much for me to remember, so I decided to write it down. This is the story of the Maiden and the Lonely Dragon.

 

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Leaf of Autumn

Leaf of Autumn was written during a particularly low point in my life. While driving, I noticed a tree that had a few late autumn leaves still clinging to its branches and I wrote this. It would eventually become the song we recorded as Ashes of Abaddon.

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Crimson Hell

This is a poem I wrote several years ago. It intentionally ambiguous, or rather embedded with multiple interpretations and meanings for me.

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Epiphany

I had a bit of a personal revelation today. I've been reluctant to share my writing with others due to personal reasons, feelings of inadequacy, of not measuring up to professional standards, fear of mockery and ridicule. But that's the risk an artist should face. Not everybody will appreciate everything I write because not everybody comes from the same types of experiences and struggles. My writing is an expression of self. Some of my older pieces are even difficult for me to read now because I'm not at the same place I was when I wrote them. But they served to help me progress and survive (sometimes literally) the difficult times in my life. While some of my works are merely reflection of circumstance and ideas, other times they are me trying to understand and cope with situations and feelings I felt were beyond my power to control and endure. All things considered, I've decided that I should share what I have written because at the end of it all, why do I care if somebody dislikes what I have created. Isn't that what art is? The opportunity to love or be repulsed by someone's creation, sometimes even a combination of both. To react and/or interact with art is what I strive for when I create it, why not allow others that opportunity.

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