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Feb 2023 · 84
Wave
Jacobe Loman Feb 2023
I wake to the streaming of tears
don't think me down on my luck
I am only gently stuck

hands begging to be free
guided by sirens
who sound heavenly

the caress of yesterday's misery
with a cup halfway filled
sitting in the filth
waiting to be spilled

they aren't friendly
these imposters in my body
don't take them seriously

we used to be apes
hanging in the canopies
where the waves cannot reach

a shared home no more
but we climb around
getting stuck
while losing ground

a few less fingers
pointless to blame
the talking mind
completely inhumane

the swords hold us high
the sky kisses us gently
our lord and savior
humanity
Feb 2023 · 109
Mop
Jacobe Loman Feb 2023
Mop
wake and go
strap-up and fix the razor blade
seize the day
work and get paid

**** up
no time to stop
just appreciate and fold
hang your head
"you can do it"
i'm offended

used to joke
now; who is dead?
yeah; yeah, yeah we are sad
i'm not woke

once a cutter, now only a janitor
no joke
no new years
only the past
the gums keep bleeding
my heart is intact

where is the strength in numbers?
here are zero
where is my hero
everyone here is a nero

the only god is minerva
i bet she smells like edelweiss
her hands are a vice
divide
Aug 2022 · 184
Incompletely Here
Jacobe Loman Aug 2022
Stuck in my head with this sickle hanging low
Within the forest of music
Nestled empty under a cradle of nature
Empty chest choked with the guilt
Quivering lips forget the words
Left incomplete as you go
The tranquil grove is no more
As the stars rain down like tears often do
The light shining above me is nothing special
This razor extinguishes the pain
The swirling blue embers reminding me of you
But you are not here by me
And now I swim in the creek
The current is pulling me into the abyss
I see no reason to comply
And the sanctified caress of the grass is warming
All I ever knew was you, and now I don't know myself
I don't want to go
What choice is there in this grief
Surrounded by the maggots and butterfly
Shrouded in your vibration
Your shoulders are so strong
I wish this was all I had to be
The anger is so primal and unforgiving
You are coming to terms and resenting me
Why should I try at the cemetery
Crawling around I'm wasted in the undertow
What was it you had to say
I just want to feel normal
Now it's too late
I'll hang onto those murmured words
Even though in this twilight I am to blame
Jan 2021 · 247
Kissing Shadows
Jacobe Loman Jan 2021
society the suicide disease
aware of proliferation
following the reaper
abused substance
synthetic chemicals

trailing behind god
melodic tone perceptions
tears high
value low
long will it hurt
loved ones go
drapery over eyes
shadow plays

youth is growing old
give something to behave
only here is now

find the dead
hanging around the head
lidless crossed eye
it's okay
reaching so high
falling so deep
precious human soul

you walk ever closer
taste the doubt
dying on your blade
subject to be aware
visage of pain
Nov 2020 · 82
Switching
Jacobe Loman Nov 2020
In days of emergence and growth...
Hidden nestled confusion identity;
April blossoming evermore subtle.
The felled tree rooted staunchly.

Stuck within syllabus.
Bound by a soften hand,
gently caressed and unsure.
Phasing the conception of man.
Regardless of strength to endure.

Microcosm of macronutrients;
stunting the intellectual growth.
Ideally opinion held limbo.
Dreaming remaining upspoke.

Trees who are felled,
still crying the sap.
Forever stuck in this rut,
a calamity of traps.

Hence of alteration.
Out of this body,
with little mind.
Trickling down the web;
and upon my spine.

Addiction, headaches, sleep walking.
Cocktails of the past.
Stuck in relapse, with little to know.
Or how fast.
Nov 2018 · 187
Isolated Toxicity
Jacobe Loman Nov 2018
If I could harness anger,
I would be feared?

If I stood at the precipice,
I would be strong.

If I was related,
who would call home?

If this has meaning.
where do I go?

Jaded with loneliness.
I weep alone.
Apr 2018 · 233
Intimacy
Jacobe Loman Apr 2018
My identity is in question;
for as long I am to sit.
And; long will I sit.
Not a single murmur.
Just as I wish.
Nothing more, not a thing less.

I provoke answers.
And, **** for them fearfully.
I question; why?
Empathy or compassion?
Acceptance over judgment?
Turbulent or assertive?
What is correct in the end of all things?

Conscious.
Bountiful.
Polarizing.
Silence.
The answers are clear.
The practice is destructive.

Will I ascend?
Or, I may never awaken.
Maybe no one is there.
Am I?

Pick up and trek on.
Spiraling in this loop downward.
Angst; feeding upon ego.
With only two eyes to mourn.
This identity is to forsake.
Peace be but a dream.
Long will I sit.
Dec 2017 · 407
Bound
Jacobe Loman Dec 2017
Cloistered momentary sanctuary
Meditating adjacent action
Instancing outside existence
Breathing irritatedly
Situation seemingly undone
Overburdened concentration
Gathering what can be
Searching floor and sky
Nothing to be found
Bound to this place
Where we are to die
Dec 2017 · 241
Because of You
Jacobe Loman Dec 2017
In this segmentation I am idle
I see the blossoming of the Sun
The regret to change is right in front of my eyes
I recall this trance and it's not a dream
A different place unable to relate a specific time

I see the insanity of my actions
The reason why I am lost
The purpose of my animosity
A  delegation to self loathing
And then I see you

You are a mirror
Gazing into my eyes
With a bubbling caress
You boil my blood
Tightening my chest
Glaring into my shallowness

I gave it all up
Because i'm some ******* fool
And playing coy is simple
You sit next to me
And I have little to say
But the feeling remains

I disapprove of this acceptance
But cannot reject the offer
So I wallow in my jaded destiny
Crying with the sadness of desperation
Accepting every reason why

You gave me what I wanted
And only provoked the taste
I was hungry and you didn't care
Now I feed myself upon the emptiness
And question all of the actions
Only to be conflicted

You sit with the Moon at your back
And I never understood why
But now it's so clear
Because the Sun never bloomed
And a piece of me will always be lost
Just a reminder of who I was
Nov 2017 · 235
Between You and I
Jacobe Loman Nov 2017
I know it's hard.
Feeling the things you do.
I have those feelings.
As if the world is against you.

It's not sadness.
It's not anguish.
I know it feels hollow.
I know it feels empty.

I relate to how you feel.
And, it's hard to try.
Sometimes you're depressed.
Feeling there is no reason why.

People tell you it's a phase.
People say it will pass.
But you don't belong.
Honestly, it will last.

Sometimes it hurts.
Sometimes you cope.
It's all meaningless.
You'll want to choke.

You are important.
A importance they cannot understand.
There is a uniqueness.
A uniqueness they don't comprehend.

Just because you fall behind.
Just because the weight is on your back.
Doesn't mean you're garbage.
Doesn't mean you're useless.
Quite the opposite.

You are traveling through darkness.
A journey that takes a toll.
The average person won't recognize.
They truly just don't know.

Please don't give up.
Please stay yourself.
Don't let them change you.
Because, they will.

You are the conscious.
The feelings of this world.
Though they delude you.
You have to hang on.
Nov 2017 · 239
Four
Jacobe Loman Nov 2017
We are born into this mortal coil.
You, and I.
Sharpening rocks,
breaking bone.

Our transgressions are destined.
You carry the cure,
swallowing the sea.
I am the cause,
the bringer of tears.

Architect of this endless cycle.
When you lecture me,
it's with a blank stare.
I don't want to hear it,
I only want you there.

A revelation, just think clearly.
I am not delegated to profane this existence.
I sharpen rocks that break bones.
I have transgressions out of my power.
Purpose is elsewhere, and time the reminder.
You are here beside me.
Sep 2017 · 246
Stars
Jacobe Loman Sep 2017
Underneath a shadow.
Crawling upon sterile cold floors.
Sharply inhaling onerous empty skies.
Eyes bent by a tainted sorrow abyss.

Imbuing the aura.
Asphyxiating the weight.
An arduous defence.
Certain only to crumble.
Who to be blamed?

Cascading the dark.
Observing cosmic strain.
Holistic transmutation.
Solar waves collide.
Night becomes grey.
Day is rebuked.
Alive.
May 2017 · 412
Understand
Jacobe Loman May 2017
Power.
Restricted from operating.
Stuck with stagnated blood.
These bounds are limited.

Help.
Slumbering upon sheets.
Filled with ruin and decay.
Distractions drifting astray.

Dreams.
Spiraling down.
The past is to stay.
Old faces go away.

Yet we remain.
Broken in time.
Not afraid.
Enslaved.
Mar 2017 · 719
Microcosm
Jacobe Loman Mar 2017
Sinking into the undertow.
The light at the end is vaguely dim.
Which way to start?
Which way to end?

Awaken with head in the clouds.
Focusing with eyes closed.
Both feet lift off.
Levitate above it all.

Ascending into the cosmos.
Breaking barriers of sound and light.
Ingesting all interstellar tranquility.
Serenity in full flight.

Endorphins react unjustly.
Solar eruptions intercept the vacant mind.
Waves crash and feet touch ground.
Stars align.
Feb 2017 · 519
i,
Jacobe Loman Feb 2017
i,
I am alone in this struggle.
It is because of intuition I am here.
Perhaps the future is so dim I cannot see.
Saddened by this lack of motion, I float gently.
Belonging nowhere, yet wanting to go home.

My own reflection is the testament of grief.
The mindset isn't whole, though it streams parallel to this situation.
The sickness stems from regret.
Why do I continue through the madness,
jaded and engulfed by desperation?
Nov 2016 · 300
Home Below
Jacobe Loman Nov 2016
I wish it were as easy.
Just to sit in this room.
No one able to trick me.
Not a single false thought.

I don't want to exist.
Every fiber of my essence would just simply disappear.
Not a single person would frown, all of the injustices would still be.
Though, tomorrow would act like nothing happened.
Even continue without.

I wish to be dead, long ago.
Before growing up, and getting old.
The only time I feel worthy, is when i'm asleep.
And, the questions are riddled with contradiction.

It really is a shame.
Seeking through life for something genuine.
We all put up a front, acting like it's what we want.
Tricking others into thinking we are legitimate.
In the end, we're just using devilish-wit.

To go through the motions, is to be jaded.
Feeling like "death", but also wearing a disguise.
A colorful universe hidden behind frightful eyes.
Why is it so difficult to just find a reason?
Is there purpose in all of this abstract?

It's like gambling.
We get a taste of it once in our life.
Viciously, we want it again.
That one connection.
To another sad soul.
Nov 2016 · 579
Secretly
Jacobe Loman Nov 2016
Sheltered under a tree of naivety.
Family failing to exist.
Each eye gazing above.
Dwarfed by clouds of misfortune.

Little flower holding on tight.
Doesn't seem to surrender without a fight.
Trickling leaves brush away.
Thunderous roar, bark decays.

Swarling winds with cyclones around.
Dancing words twist profound.
White fades to black.
Situation echos something nil.
Ending with a concussive shock.

Hands retrieve a golden watch.
Time sits still, unwilling to move.
Though, it's over; it's nothing new.

Argument interrupts tranquility.
Child left speechless, wondering "why?"
Shadows doom them all.
Together they cry.
Nov 2016 · 567
Cope
Jacobe Loman Nov 2016
Twiddling thumbs in a cold dark room.
Windily breeze whispers across the skin.
Stuck in this chair not knowing where to begin.

Glaring around at shadowing silhouettes.
Lifeless they lay still and at peace.
Jealously pleasing each eye.

All alone in this box.
Somehow feeling mocked.
Losing connection to the everyday normality.
Thoughts become deluded and afraid.

Thumbs picking up pace.
Sun greets with a harmonious beckon.
Light seeps through the cracks.
Thoughts travel through the mind.

Wishing never to awake.
Cherish existing without really knowing why.
Dreaming the best sovereign.
Allowing this embracement of warmth.
Cusping the morning internally.
Oct 2016 · 326
Zero
Jacobe Loman Oct 2016
Sometimes, I still see you.
A beauty lost to the deep snow.
Someone colder than winter itself.
Benevolent was the warmth brought.
Sinister as confidence was broken.
But, it's a mystery now.
Everything, unspoken.
Oct 2016 · 581
Two Eyes
Jacobe Loman Oct 2016
Violent waves crash ashore;
in this dream I cannot tell what is real anymore.
I see a figure standing ten feet tall;
the moon obstructed by a beastly maw.

Murmuring questions with a sleepy tongue;
answers haunted me in grim return.

Lobotomizing the entirety of my mind,
the feral creature only spoke with shapes and rhyme.

Poised before me was a legendary hunter.
A ghastly dire-beast, who could tear the world asunder.

Sporting a melancholic expression;
he opens the sealed mouth with a deadly suggestion.
His gums bleeding from pale infection.
Sourcing the problem I ache with poor digestion.

Unable to sniff out sustenance,
his own life-force is leading him astray.
In this nightmare; guilt turns night to day.
Lost in the dark the hunter cannot pray.

Mustering the strength, I mend his pain.
Reaching into the gnarly abyss;  
pulling out something of a shame.
Rapturing open wounds; I am fearful of blame.

Crying with a grisly howl.
I am becoming apart of the beast;
and the hunter becomes infused within.
A ritual complete.

The fabric of reality dissipates as the moon weeps.
I rejoice with newly kindled vigor as I exit this plane of existence.
Exalted I am, now I rest my troubled mind.
May this prolific dream endure all of time.
Sep 2016 · 314
Dawn
Jacobe Loman Sep 2016
Swirling around like a broken fog,
dawn arrives just as we lay.
Like a pestering fiend that is sickened with rage,
a halo of gnats engulf the brave.

Cracking the shadow with bold light,
towering cascade in full flight.
A whip of leather collides *******,
forever to work a tireless sap.

Circlejerking the popular opinion,
regurgitating a thoughtless wave.
Singular one stands among such naive,
afraid of the horde which boosters no rhyme.

Squalor bred from the hive mind,
together they run from crime.
Think on your own,
sanguine freedom will chime.
Aug 2016 · 386
Dull;
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
I love many, many don't know.
I sit by the creek, sometimes all alone.
Reading thoughts of the passers by.
Shooting warmth between their eyes.

Tricked into war, tricked into politics.
This whole scheme; a consequence.
Betrayed, broken and bruised.
A jealousy that has never been used.

Figure of speech, destined to be acquitted.
Unraveling cords, unlikely to be submitted.
The simple trick of tying a knot.
A lesson soon, likely forgot.

Unity in numbers, mostly not me.
Divided we are, united standing tall.
Reaching for the stars, afraid to fall.
Courage is a aftermath, afterall.

Like a yo-yo bouncing around.
The dreams in my sleep are renowned.
Only tossing and turning can churn them out.
The mundane day is what life is all about.

Forget and forgive.
Ride the little creek.
Don't be afraid, you silly meek.
Explore destiny and be a freak.
Live life rich as a sheik.
Aug 2016 · 1.0k
Dark Room
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
Unimposing to the objects around.
Visualizing each item with vivid detail.
Haunting the forgotten sleeping synapse.
Hidden deep within the fiber.
Feeling lungs cascading violently.
Sundering pops of adrenaline punctuate.

Shadows cast doubt over courage.
Crossed eyes seeing double vision.
Tranquility forbid the beating heart.
Shaken steadily upon each migraine.
Broken toe acting subtle.

Windows eviscerating the light.
Dimming color and pigments alike.
Dancing brave the wildly fire.
Black and blue, mildly haze.
Images of demon and ghoul take the hour.

Sickened sunken skeletal room.
White tiles caress coldly as ice.
Air circulates with grim agenda.
Hands riddled with obnoxious arthritis.
Brooming the dust, sweeping the fear.

The beautiful black steed champions it away.
Red are the hoofs painting the scene.
Vaporizing the light by any means.
Delegating everything entirely serene.
Shootingstar, throttling deemed.

Brilliant cloud looming so high.
Setting the Sun into the sky.
Benevolent brother opposing shy.
Sorcering wisdom allowing to fly.
Devilish the Moon, waking my eye.
Aug 2016 · 675
Changes; Autumn
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
Autumn.
How do you charm?
Is it the pretty leaves?
Perhaps, it's the popular color?
Maybe the unique smell?

It truly is the season of change.
Past loves revisited in waves of seasonal aroma.
A sense of urgency from the changing colors.
The frailty of the fallen leaves.
A hint of impending doom.

Though, gently the wind grazes.
Warmth echoing through the chills.
Some antidotes heal with the passing of time.
Preparing us to mentally brave winter.
Reflecting inward, changing outward.

Hope; maybe.
Motivation to work hard.
Endlessly, to find our way.
Pick up what we can and move on.
Recollections of the good, the bad, and the old.

Noble as time flows.
Ultimately, honorably ending.
Another chance, another year.
Different colors, different smells.

Accomplishments and failure.
It's all the same in the end.
Withering, until spring.
Life fights a way through.
Meeting us on the other side.
Reborn again.
Aug 2016 · 684
Awaken;
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
Tap into darkness.
Become its champion.
Sanction the power.
Defy reality.
Posture proud.

Smoke the vapor.
Breathe with confidence.
Flex your fingers.
Grow callouses.
Become a man.

Tie loose ends.
Ignite romantics.
Paint pictures of girls.
Trip over love.
Weep tears of jealousy.

Put in hours.
Enjoy a hobby.
Kindred a spirit.
Love unconsciously.
Seek purpose.

Right all wrongs.
Study the anti-hero.
Learn existentialism.
Ignore God.
Enlightenment is key.

Rest well.
Burdens come and go.
Sanctuary is what you make it.
Knotted fingers unravel.
Time is cruel; lovely.
Grow proud.
Awaken.
Aug 2016 · 266
Quote
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
"He who sets no boundary, yet thrives for a "win-win" solution at every empathetic reaction will find destitute sensations leading down a eminent path of ethereal growth."
Aug 2016 · 622
Rite
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
Entering forgotten sacred grove.
Before all; make sacrifice.
Waterskin filled with tears.
Empty gift into stream.
Become one; adjacent of Mother.
Kiss a leaf; covert fiber to ash.
Watch soot animate into air.

Luckily, favour is bestowed.
Invigorated, gaining great perception.
Seeing each foot step illuminate.
Prints of fiend and foe.
Auras of silver; some of gold.
Pulsing, accompanying each beating heart.
Lurk further, if not weak of mind.

Footing becomes treacherous.
Heels; weakened of frailty.
Parka too heavy.
Shedding skin, turning hope.
Colors looming; fading in, some out.
Fatiguing, yet desperate.

Swimming up, deprived oxygen.
Vines trip, knotted at ankles.
Trailing honey, scented guide.
Climbing higher, vision enduring infection.
Picking, chewing, freeing the whole apparatus.
Light reflects from above.

Tainted, the hand sinks down.
Grasping, something of power.
Sensations overflow.
Reality checks within.
Preciously ending.
White hands, angelically caress.
Bleeding no more.

Mending all wounds.
Awakening the fire.
Around pit, peers cheering.
Rite of passage endured.
One with nature, little child.
Flesh, bone, soot, ash, fiber.
Boy evolves to man.
Wonderous joy.
Aug 2016 · 586
Wolf Heart
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
Your eyes open.
Moon looming over like a foreboding omen.
Laying under the stars; embraced by pavement.
Red bricks punctuate the discomfort; consciously.
Raising the right hand, clenching a furious fist.
Blood trickling down; a sanguine kiss.
Saluting the sky, you cursed the wish.

Your heart starts to beat.
Picking up, only to move into a dark room.
Some injuries are elusive; chronic.
As the room engulfs, you bleed a little more.
Suddenly, senses sway.

A deep down trait becomes ignited.
Your affinity for justice rekindled.
The engine inside now beats with a grim courage.
Grinning through the anguish with prudence.  
Shadows in the room become evicted.
Reborn; you stand tall embracing the darkness.

With this new found power you march.
Defending all those who cannot for themselves.
You dig deep, you fight hard.
Entrenching the fragility of man.
In this pain, you are enigmatic.
A shield to humanity; the conqueror of misfortune.

Greatness comes with malice.
Withdrawing, the power fades.
Vigilante, you trekked too hard.
Even the defenders need rest.
So; draw upon our strength.
We all cannot enter that dark room.
You are the protector of our herd.
We migrate together.

Don't give away your gift.
Be brave, be kind.
Allow us to be a pillar.
A fixture upon your mind.
Shake the stigma plaguing the people.
Create legend that will enlighten us all.
Thank you; he who has the wolf heart.
You may close those heavy eyes.
Aug 2016 · 305
Missing; You
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
Somewhere, someplace;
maimed fingers are turning pages.
Eyes magnify words that mean less.
A bitter truth; holding too dear.
The singular thinker, alone; quite.

Shadows and alleyways;
a man stumbles through the dark.
Afraid of the monsters that lurk.
Feeding upon the weakened souls.
Shedding tears that glimmer gold.

Sitting at dinner; cold.
Empty pockets and aching back.
Destitute the waitress; she cannot afford.
Simply a meal, the restaurant employed.
Her feet, mangled; broken.

Jazz plays sadly.
Echoing among the dark.
Empty skyline engrossed the stars.
Drums play beats for the comet.
Snares kicking in with punctuation.
Slowly everything fades; and the trumpet remains.
Weeping gently, signifying kept shame.

Somewhere; someplace;
your key fits.
A golden sun is setting.
People are celebrating down the street.
Time is stuck in a trance; holding a breath.
Memories you cherish, vanish with the rain.
Skies will always remind; a little pain.

She'll find him interesting; alone.
He'll love her, she's tough as nails.
A pillar of strength, through kindred spirits.
Lighting the darkness; scaring shadows.
Dancing to the stars; enjoying the music.
Sharing the anguish; ignoring the rain.
Happily they will be; misery's company.
Aug 2016 · 217
Thoughts
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
A poem a day keeps the lunatic at bay.
The sadness carries throughout;
Nothing to relate,
No one who cared.
Alone in a world.
The skinner box design; a justly fear.
Fixing beyond melancholic repair.
Society cannot express empathy.
The deep thoughts of the thinker.
Still we praise masculinity.
Everything to give; justified.
Frail, forgotten.
Apart of us all.
The lonely poet.
Crucified.
Aug 2016 · 248
Picking, Paranoia
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
You told me not to sell myself short.
What were you trying to say?
How do I "simply" break these chains?
It's too hard.

What's the purpose?
I have walked full circle.
The longer I stay in my head;
the more things start to disappear.
Where are you?

Whose side are you really on?
Are you trying to elevate me?
Maybe, it's all an elaborate scheme.
You're made up.
I'm trying to end this.

Now, I am doing what you said.
The longer I fade;
the more abstract it all concerns.
You're just a ******* hypnosis.
Dazing me into hurting myself.

Before the idea of being "trapped";
there was only me.
You seem to forget my guilt,
the weight of shame.

After you, there will be me.
I'm having a change of heart.
And, the fear is coming true.
How can you just disappear?
I am disappointed.
Aug 2016 · 1.1k
Hidden, Away
Jacobe Loman Aug 2016
Deep empathy; a curse.
People watching brings down tears.
Walking miles in someone else's shoes; simply by profiling.
Judgemental, fantasizing about living their life.
Heart bleeds from the weight of grief.

Distaste of socialization.
Draining, devastating, a slipping ego trip.
Sickly, becoming after too much interaction.
Though, yearning to be praised "unique."
Batteries recharge; dark, alone.

Introverted thinking ,extraverted feeling
Intuition guiding eyes; inspiring yet convincing.
Perfectionist, worst of traits.
Vividly; descending into madness.
Dehydrated imagination, feeling ill.

Connecting dots, many abstractions.
Passionate, altruistic, advocate.
Seeking deep down; fetching truth.
Eccentric mystic, entirely misunderstood.
Devoted empathy; punished internally.
Jul 2016 · 623
Golden Boy
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Something satisfying, yet so humiliating.
Throwing the perfect left hook, guided with bad intentions.
Feeling like De La Hoya at his best.

No gold medal will be honored for such animosity.
Flesh meeting plaster, drywall cascades.
Cavity made around my insignificant strike.

Such primal tendency, such an angry motive of strength.
A fifty dollar satisfaction that cannot be beat.
Simply smashing something man made, yet ashamed.

In common with a  ******* when it's over, not the great Golden Boy.
With the purity of destruction in my fist, the drywall was my moment.
Innate my primal rage grows, to control it is impossible.

That moment, I felt like I was dancing circles around Felix Trinidad.
Robbed as De La Hoya was, so too was my ego.
But as the Golden Boy, I cannot let this loss define me.
Jul 2016 · 868
Surplus Killing
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Shaman who is keeping the flame.
Dancing like it's his last day.
Holding many secrets, knowing many fates.
Brown stubby knotted fingers do the pointing.
The young brown pups do the fetching.
Guiding the meek, chanting history.

He taught my family how to preserve mother.
Sometimes for sport, sometimes for balance.
Insisted we did this favour; not as ritual, but as rite.
We wait until the moon is filled of Mars.
We sing our people's song.
Sometimes a harmony, sometimes a challenge.

To do the shamans work; maybe *****.
We roam in threes, sometimes fours.
Our sanctified goal to slay mother's cousin.
Tall ones, brown like us, bones gnarly from skull.

We huff, and puff; the winter cold.
Lungs tired after kissing the chilly breeze.
The tundra lit up with a crimson sheen.
Fatiguing the march, yet we fly.

Hunters we hunt, fast with four legs.
We single a herd, resting their heads.
We focus the small ones, biting and gashing.
They fell like birch trees, painting the powder.
Outnumbering us, sport turns to anxiety.

We bite, gnaw, ****, and claw.
They fall hard to the Earth.
We don't feast, we have a mission.
Looting the bones, we keep them in submission.
Thinning them out; is our fed intuition.
Brothers grow tired, the prey devastated.
Mars reflects to us, as if saying mother is pleased.
The young brown pups do the fetching.
Jul 2016 · 495
My Nil, Fort Hill
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
As I die,
socket me with seed.
Journey ending.
Walnut dyeing hands black.
I dream oak.
Tall;
so you can see.

Bury me.
At the top of Fort Hill.
Water me with tears.
With the warriors.
I fought battles.
Just, not the same.
Alone.

Sad.
Dead tree.
Allow me to wither.
Old as the hill.
Under the burning moon.
I wilt,
feeling nil.

Be.
Prickly.
Continue the journey.
Bumpy roads are best.
Your life goes on.
I will be a monolith.
Upon Fort Hill.
Don't.
Forget.
Me.
Jul 2016 · 541
Alone, Just
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Warm cords striking the piano gently.
My feelings accept isolation.
I agree with the unpopular opinion.
These thoughts; a cognitive dissonance.

All of this could be a consequence.
A superstition of intemperament.
I cannot recognize anything.
It feels like one big elaborate dream.

Through the static I feel the presence.
Eerie notes block my judgement.
I feel sympathy for something that doesn't exist.
My mind's eye feeling out of tune.

Tears from my forehead trickle down.
Single keys punctuate the atmosphere justly.
Everything in my heart becomes blind.
With the pianist caress; it becomes empty.
A warm place stuck in time.
Jul 2016 · 316
Everyday
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
To those mean, I appreciate you.

To those interested, I teach you.

To those lost, I guide you.

To those snarky, I enjoy you.

To those scared, I adore you.

To those loyal, I love you.
Jul 2016 · 489
Hope
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Systematically, we are looking for truth in all falsehoods.
Never fear the pursuit of knowledge or that of reason.
Spite such hard times; we need to fall back on art.
Only in such equity can we measure tranquility.

Singular as inquired, some traits are more bold.
Inspirations of love, politics, and freedom are not found-
in the classroom; only through art, culture, and equality
can this be achieved.

Educate and inform our youth; as they our greatest aspiration.
Build into them, culture and love; make sure it becomes habituated.
The dreams of prophets defeat the minds of oppression.
Break this mold supporting a slave mind if we seek progression.   

May they bring us justification, and flourish our culture.
May they be wise, and hold back the elevations of tyranny.
May they be able to grow into philosophers, painters, and prophets.
May conquest not be for world *******, but of  peace and knowledge.

Our past father's will sleep gently, to know no war drums.
In the age of total enlightenment we cannot be alone.
Sharing is our greatest gift to the world, we need teachers.
May we foster those who seek it, and educate those who love it.
Never should we shy away from the prospect that is our youth.
Jul 2016 · 640
Effigy
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Obtuse monolith glowing steady.
Lighting heaps of toothless jack o' lantern.
Snarky comments come pouring the crowd.
Howling a tone harmoniously.

Scenes change, the verdict enriches.
Terrible cries; screeching shrieks of witches.
Bellowing sighs turn to glee.
Flickering faces fade; instantaneously.

Burning the monolith; charring the grass.
After a pause, the anxiety lasts.
Effigies ignited enhancing the praise.
Nature arrives greeting the blaze.

Winds of water crowd the sky.
Little speckles of rain trickle surprise.
Cowardly pumpkins quickly roll away.
Effigy extinguished; feeling betrayed.

Shadows retreat anxious and free.
Lightning whips with thunderous speed.
Echoing silence the monolith dims.
A new cycle graciously begins.
Jul 2016 · 358
Speeding down
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
As they catch up,
the bass starts bouncing.
Your fingers gallop across her skin.
Weary-eyed; you pick up speed.

Your heart a steaming engine,
whispering heat from each ventricle.
Pumping into overdrive exhaustively.
Yet, she allows you one last ride.

You give it all you got.
Blood flows madly.
Her eyes light with excitement.
Everything passing blurs.
Absolute serenity.

The motor flatlines, exhausted; empty.
They have you; it's all over.
You're her favorite song, galloping gently.
She's the temperance to your gluttony.
Fallen into arms, the two sob infinitely.
Jul 2016 · 639
Crowned Monsters
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
I know true darkness,
it's something that can sway you.
We think of demons or ghost,
but in reality, they're right next to you.
Wearing flesh just like you.

Think of this;
If someone cares too much,
is that seen black or white?
Maybe a hidden agenda,
maybe control out of spite?

Manipulators; they understand subconsciously.
Seeing other people's potential, like a curse,
allowing them to chose your fate, which is worse?
Slowly, they can elevate you, but in a instant as a lost
interest; they can murmur disappointment.

Premeditating all outcomes.
Exhausting their mind by weaving words.
Someone who is plotting has foresight,
or is human behaviour playing its part?

Some who see too much, know too much.
Having high expectations,
allowing them to manipulate fate.
Power over probability is dark and deadly.
Should you feel afraid of these weavers,
simply remind yourself; they can be great.
Jul 2016 · 364
Above
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Sleepwalker drifting through interstellar planes.
Citizens illuminate fluorescently; shining black.

Galloping between stars.
Galactic tornado made of chains.

Thirsty hunter gathering intellect.
Polar caps enameled with honey.

Junkyard holding crystalized memories.
Tainted philosopher sitting high.

Daytripper strangling dwarfed dreams.
Waves crash brilliantly against the sky.
Jul 2016 · 309
Stranger
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Blackened shroud drags low,
sweeping floors; gently.
Giving company rodents.
Sometimes; plenty.

April cherry blossoms,
time hidden deep.
Grasping hands softly.
Grippingly; to keep.

Swirling shrunken head,
little lion crying loud.
"What can even be real?"
Hushing; my vow.

Rodents; quicken,
sickened with anxiety.
Skeletons bending knees.
Missing you, I am sadly.

Harlequin kiss chimes,
all delicately ready.
Sickle; sharpened and tall.
Guillotine sighs dreadingly.
Solemnly; the whisper echoes,
a final kiss goodbye.
Jul 2016 · 246
Lost
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Make sure it's to your favourite song.
Make sure, you're all alone.
Make sure it's over a distant friend.
Make sure it's pure and long.
Make sure they can feel it.
**** it up, no one is too strong.
Join palate to tongue.
Jul 2016 · 507
Potion
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
"Do you want to see a hat-trick?"
Questioned the celebrity.
Slipping in a wink,
you know not with certainty.

Flick of his lip,
the landscape changed.
He did a little dance.
At the end, you felt the same.

A spell came over,
as if you ate bad cabbage.
Shortly, the man began to cry,
knowing he had goofed.

He admits the wrong trick,
yet you chuckle like a fish.
Exhausted with disbelief,
you instantly ****!
Jul 2016 · 241
Passing
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Cloud Enlightening
Porcelain Face Gazing White
Rain A Thousand Drops
Jul 2016 · 269
Identity
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Beauty is unusual and unique,
in every sense, I agree.
What if gender is a cultural construct,
and we gauge mental illness subjectively?

What if we make the mistakes of shock therapy,
as did our Victorian ancestors?
Should maiming your body be a form of identity?
What separates us individually?

Why is it socially accepted to enhance your breast,
but frowned upon to partake in blocking estrogen or testosterone?
What's the difference when someone is over zealous with tattoos?
Do we have artificial standards?

What we do now has less latency and will show results quicker,
unlike ever before in human history.
Could we be taking a wrong turn?
Will culture acceleration devalue civil society?

We are engineered differently, to experience things persistently, with unparalleled thought.
Will the engineering of a universal theme plunge what we hold unique
into a maelstrom of monotony and decay?
In the end, how do we identify culture; if everything is grey?
Jul 2016 · 210
Stuck
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
I feel ******* stagnant.
Words I "pretty-up," justified; as if anyone cares.
The addiction I feed slows me down.
I'm getting older, even dumber.
The more **** I learn, the less I know.
Romanticize about **** that will never happen,
or history overly glorified.

I want to reach out for help,
but this facade is supposed to be stoic.
How am I to relate,
when every ******* thing I see is dreamed up, "imaginary?"

I am a husk, a shell of the former me.
A happier man, sickened with ego.
Heightened on the pedestal, I carry myself.
Sometimes, I can't even see the ******* ground below my feet.
Prior to before, everything now revolves around me.

I care deeply about people.
I cannot function in the day to day reality.
So, I soak and sit alone, most nights I feel like a drone.
Wanting to be intelligent, wanting to be artistic.
Wanting to help people, wanting to be iconic.
Honestly, just a speckle in the **** we call life.
Jul 2016 · 394
Hydaspes
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Teach me Aristotle,
for my charm belongs Diogenes.
Babylon shall treat me,
like a sea of honey.

The Gordian Knot,
at the feet of Zeus.
I shall be its liberator,
and sharp be my sword.

Fifteen years I will conquer,
not a single day of defeat.
My name will ring true,
King of Macedonia,
Pharaoh of Egypt.
This is my fate.

Visit the palace of Nebuchadnezzar II,
and you shall rest vicariously.
I bring the legacy.
Alexander the Great.
Jul 2016 · 506
Waves
Jacobe Loman Jul 2016
Sitting, fishing for compliments,
the pole becomes too heavy.
Simply, blame our biggest fish,
somehow denying advice entirely.
Flirting to concede by the stream,
vaguely dreaming of obscurity.

Spiraling downward, sinking at sea.
Murky depths swallow wholly.
Descending into imagination,
strange thoughts ignite reality.

Strangers in darkness,
awakening the gloom.
Tripping over ideas, centuries old.
Images of heroes manifest.
Ciphering; the will to power,
the endurance to grow.

Their thoughts come in waves.
Nietzsche, Reznor, Sartre and Kyo.
Each a different color, one very bold.
Monochromatic, they highlight.
Lips move, but nothing is told.

Feeling cursed, desperately resuming previous functions.
Trapped in a skinner box, pressing the same button.
Dreaming of thoughts wishful to hold.
Embracing the pain, becomes something gold.
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