Lover's we'll be
Forever in love
It's you and me.
Jan 15, 2021
Jan 15, 2021 at 9:24 AM UTC
Love superposed,
spins on a question: Yes or no?
Shut away-
away
away
away
Lift the lid?
No.
Better to live with love in theory
than to live with no love at all.
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 8:08 AM UTC
He had that
groaning soul
loneliness, like a
puffy white cloud,
floating aimless, and
aching toward the
black abyss--that gray sky
sadness;
like he was
five years old and just
watched his dog get
hit by a car.
You could smell
the pain--taste it,
like potato chips on a
sore throat.
It smelled like a
basement or cobwebs.
I told him, "Nothing will heal that crap,
just time and dirt."
He didn't blink,
and his soft walnut eyes
flashed
crossword confusion.
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 8:04 AM UTC
-
Lines border my eyes like new roads
to more distinguishing characteristics,
signifying for me many a morning frown.
I draw my face closer to the mirror to
examine them in more detail, mapping
pending destinies laid fresh like asphalt.
Traces of purple fans out from the exterior
corners, I think of them as ink spatter that
gets larger every time I endorse
a small check.
I cannot stop the runs but I can
hide the evidence with concealer
creams and foundation,
establishing a façade upon which
the viewer will find as pleasant
from just the right
distance.
I stand back just so approximately
from the mirror to admire
an illusion of youth,
and then move forward once more
to fathom the texture
of experience—
_"Maybe less this time"_ I think,
have I not earned the right ?
s jones
2011-2021
.
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 8:03 AM UTC
It didn’t exist to us
No
Not until
Some scientist
Went poking around
Into the quantum unknown
For goodness sake’s
Don’t measure it!
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 8:03 AM UTC
A myth is but an image
An image is a representation
My words are but Cupid’s arrows
My quiver desperation
Subatomic particles
Are but a myth of our existence
The patterns are repeating
Invisibly but consistent
You are the uniqueness
Of your own story
Your mythology is your glory
Save your own soul
At the altar of your own delusion
I hope there’s not too much confusion!
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 8:02 AM UTC
Once I lived deep in a forest
My bleeding heart turned to stone
I disappeared out in the shadows
A hollow tree I called home
I know what it is to be a hobo
Train to train, same house twice
I know how it feels to beg and borrow
To share my roll with scratchy mice
Once I even tried to phone home
But the number slipped my weary mind
And when I finally did remember
It all seem such a waste of time
Do you know what it's like to be a hobo?
Nobody knows you when you're down
Memories haunt you like a cold wind
I was lost but now I'm found
Now I live upon a mountain
High above the raging sea
Timeless, old but not forgotten
This hobo nature inside of me...
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 6:59 AM UTC
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes
Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test
Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 6:53 AM UTC