Buildings for the most part are boxes square.
But Pentecost circles and spirals,
they turn and burn wild.

Of those who likely would tame
and make comprehensible any fire--
apt tongues have gone titch titch
and beautiful catch 'til words and musics
and parlor diplomacies have fortified
much which is untrue.

Fear has no finish, even in our dying.
The path is a cliff edge.

Let us turn, un-adult-like and be stripped of our civilized persuasions.
Usher Earth's children into a primordial world.

Water shall love and receive us, as it always has.
The naked ground will speak up,
into our touching feet.

Listen to the tongues of the wind.
Unhinge the body, which is you.

Let all creation fly.

She traces water
Through the river
Into the
Cold, hard ground
Where secrets lie in wait
Her past is
An enigma
And I
Don't know what
To do with her
Anymore

She speaks words of
Wisdom and curiosity
Her ears flinch when
Things unsaid surface
She grows uncomfortable
At the thought of it
She can't handle
What I think of her

When I have time
To sit back and think
Lemons and limes
Inside hard earned beers
My mind never stops
Coming to these conclusions
Back and forth
With the wind through green trees
She walks through valleys
Untouched by cruel weather
Comes out unscathed
Though completely unclothed
I am always in awe
At her pure endurance
Spanning time with nothing
But the smile of Joan of Ark

A father looks deeply
  into the eyes of his son,
He speaks soft and sweetly:
  "Child, my days are done."

"I've loved every moment
  From the day that we met.
The day of your birth,
  And I'll never forget,
You told me you loved me
  Without using words,
I gave you my heart
  And you gave me the earth.

"And though my life's ending,
   I want you to know,
This is the beginning,
  Of life on your own.
So hear me right now,
   With these final breaths,
And I'll tell you how,
   Your life shall be blessed:

Sing with the water,
  Dance with the bees;
Travel the world,
  And sail on the seas.
Learn to enjoy
  The moments you have;
For now is eternal,
  Yet time moves so fast.

"Learn to love,
  And love to learn;
Light your passion,
  And let it burn.
Reach someone,
  Touch longing lives;
We are all one,
  Together we fight.

"Let go of hurt,
  Learn to forgive,
Understand others,
  We're all new at this.
One day you'll see,
  You'll blink and wake up;
And then you will teach
  Your son to grow up.

Its that time of night
when all i do is try to write
but all that comes out is
words and not WORDS

everything is funnier
in this funny time of night
and yet nothing has made you
want to cry so hard in your life

isn't everyone lonely
in this lonely time of night
but a thousand other people
are lonely tonight

lets all be lonely together

its getting to that time of night
when the numbness becomes
unbearably
light

I'm afraid I'm starting to feel again
and believe me
i've never wanted to understand
why all our lives end

its finally that time of night
when blood looks blue and not red

The light is racing from our room,
seeping through the cracks under the door.
The darkness grows,
casting us into shadow.
but all things including light die in the end
utterances in the small places of my dark mind
lend themselfs to such times
i would not suffer to pass
the hour without bringing forth all the angers
and mettlesome ways that confound you
the smokes rakes against my mind,
hiding me behind my eyes.
The truth came calling
along with the clock's toll,
but who among us could answer such an ominous cry?
When the hours between midnight
and 4 am are so unforgiving.
i am filled with tears
until i can bear no more
your words kiss my mind
and i cannot return this tenderness
for it would turn to love
i am waiting these hours
in the desolate towers of cold
for the rescue of dawn
but it gives little comfort
were that i could reach out to you
but i dare not
i dare not


Edit et al:           Collaboration Poem written by alyssainwonderland (http://hellopoetry.com/-alyssainwonderland/) and I (Mark John Junor); alyssainwonderland contributions are in italics

Your words are chlorine streams
Your eyes a motion picture
A wish fulfilled by dreams
And my words form no structure.

A mental picture, a buried thought
Frightening words try to escape
My tongue, my heart feels, oh
         So caught
Between Gods greatest gift
And moral obligation.

A burning flame, a kindled spark
Caught my hearts fragile tinder
My brain a winter park
Momentary frozen cinder.

- Johnny Raven
  © Copyright 1999

People will read many stories about depression
With similes and metaphors and a bunch of other figurative bullshit
They'll feel a sense of comfort in the fact that they understand those
simple
         little
               rhymes...

But I do not

Because words on paper can never communicate this feeling
Words cannot express the emptiness and struggle I have within myself
Day after fucking day

I am drowning in my own mind
I am gasping for air with every word write
Every word that I read
I write
I read
I gasp
I cannot breathe

Because I am drowning in my own mind
And I've forgotten how to swim
I am no longer able to tread water
My body has given up
I've lost every ounce of strength I might have once had
And I am ready to stop gasping
I am ready to let go
And sink

My mind won't surrender
My body is giving up but my mind won't let go
I can no longer tread this water, but my mind refuses to sink
I cry and I cut and I pray to whatever god there may be
I pray
That my mind
Will drown.

My head is still above the waves
But my body
My soul
My life
Has drowned

Smack, jab! Left, right,
watch out I bite!
I process words
too fast,
they move like
flashes through my thoughts,
I don't make them, they don't make me.
I don't force them, they don't force me-
I do this for fun.
I bash my head into a turtle's skeleton,
pelicans, stay out of the way.
Wish wash kind of washer head,
wolf wild but walker wed,
stupid is as stupid ever gets when
stupid is what stupid said he'd turn
stupid,
what he'd spurn, stupid
pedestrian...
I, always the equestrian
and never stupid (and never wasteful
but always mindful, mind you!), like
to think that I do this for fun.

I do this for fun.

reflective light from the laptop
it's burning my iris
but I can't stop looking.

I want to write something
so raw
singing songs of truth
and beauty.

I have chocolate muffin
living under my fingernails.
And blisters festering on my
hands from gardening too much.

and I realize none of that is
dazzling or worthy
of these words.
And things should
only be said
if they are absolutely
necessary.

I humbly write a poem for you
I do not need a dime or two
These beautiful words are meant for you
I appreciate that I can be part of you
Please don’t even bother to say “thank you”
If you don’t understand the picture
Of words I painted for you….