jasoncole - Hello Poetry

His shadowy brim tipped down and in No face to place, no trace of chin Revolver cradled loose and low Cylinder whirs, chambers roll Trench coat long, dark, and lean Black boots gleam with choicest sheen Right hand rested 'round bony grips Left hand fans and never slips Who are you? What do you want from me? Why are you here? Your purpose is hidden Your message unclear Never a word muttered Not even a sound It's always the same When you come around Got to find my keys Get out of this place I'm weak in the knees My heart's losing pace Jump in the car Pedal meets metal Check my rear-view For signs of that devil At the stoplight A peripheral glance A sideways glint A figure askance Shotgun rider A figment with a plan The devil may care But my mind made the man ©Jason Cole

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Jun 25, 2015

Jun 25, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC

Gunslinger Dark

His shadowy brim tipped down and in No face to place, no trace of chin Revolver cradled loose and low Cylinder whirs, chambers roll Trench coat long, dark, and lean Black boots gleam with choicest sheen Right hand rested 'round bony grips Left hand fans and never slips Who are you? What do you want from me? Why are you here? Your purpose is hidden Your message unclear Never a word muttered Not even a sound It's always the same When you come around Got to find my keys Get out of this place I'm weak in the knees My heart's losing pace Jump in the car Pedal meets metal Check my rear-view For signs of that devil At the stoplight A peripheral glance A sideways glint A figure askance Shotgun rider A figment with a plan The devil may care But my mind made the man ©Jason Cole

34

tempting trappings glow ghostly garments flow hair winds bright like sunshine ropes in my velvet dreams sequel skin as I grin stops only if I wait gentle limbs with no end churn a heart of clay within, without beneath, about outside in, inside doubt behind the breach roundabout route beyond my reach, right way out seasoned strangers inner part dark destined dangers apart from spark flurried passions molt storied bastions bolt fire blinds light like fog eats smoke in my velvet dreams © Jason Cole

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Jun 20, 2015

Jun 20, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC

Velvet Dreams

tempting trappings glow ghostly garments flow hair winds bright like sunshine ropes in my velvet dreams sequel skin as I grin stops only if I wait gentle limbs with no end churn a heart of clay within, without beneath, about outside in, inside doubt behind the breach roundabout route beyond my reach, right way out seasoned strangers inner part dark destined dangers apart from spark flurried passions molt storied bastions bolt fire blinds light like fog eats smoke in my velvet dreams © Jason Cole

23

He raised me the old-fashioned way Never spared the rod Worked daylight to dark Except for Sundays Never heard him say His life was hard Taught me to drive a stick To hunt, to fish, to throw a lick And how to take one Good times fly by Years fade away Yesterday dies Time cries Daddy was a good ol' boy I'm talkin' about them good ol' boys They're the heart of the South Them good ol' boys Well they're about as good as it gets He gave up all the boyhood dreams And plans he'd laid So that I'd have some Sometimes he'd speak and gaze A glimpse of better days Back on the farm I can just see him now singin' "Not Fade Away" and "True Love Ways" There in the sun Good times fly by Years fade away Yesterday dies Time cries Daddy was a good ol' boy I'm talkin' about them good ol' boys They're the heart of the South Them good ol' boys Well they're about as good as it gets I carry his picture in my wallet Together with his boyhood dreams The picture is of him at 12 years old My wallet's bustin' out at the seams Time cries out for them good ol' boys I'm talkin' about them good ol' boys They're the heart of the South Them good ol' boys My Daddy was as good as it gets Time cries out For the heart of the South Time cries out For the heart of the South Time cries out... Time cries out... Time cries out... © Jason Cole

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Jun 13, 2015

Jun 13, 2015 at 8:06 AM UTC

Good Ol' Boy

He raised me the old-fashioned way Never spared the rod Worked daylight to dark Except for Sundays Never heard him say His life was hard Taught me to drive a stick To hunt, to fish, to throw a lick And how to take one Good times fly by Years fade away Yesterday dies Time cries Daddy was a good ol' boy I'm talkin' about them good ol' boys They're the heart of the South Them good ol' boys Well they're about as good as it gets He gave up all the boyhood dreams And plans he'd laid So that I'd have some Sometimes he'd speak and gaze A glimpse of better days Back on the farm I can just see him now singin' "Not Fade Away" and "True Love Ways" There in the sun Good times fly by Years fade away Yesterday dies Time cries Daddy was a good ol' boy I'm talkin' about them good ol' boys They're the heart of the South Them good ol' boys Well they're about as good as it gets I carry his picture in my wallet Together with his boyhood dreams The picture is of him at 12 years old My wallet's bustin' out at the seams Time cries out for them good ol' boys I'm talkin' about them good ol' boys They're the heart of the South Them good ol' boys My Daddy was as good as it gets Time cries out For the heart of the South Time cries out For the heart of the South Time cries out... Time cries out... Time cries out... © Jason Cole

53

when darkness falls upon my death this heart is reaped head laid to rest do not weep nor steep regret you mustn't grieve a hollow chest the calling of a soul to shed all mortal sheaths and specious breath divinely deemed a doom beset by shadows of a hollow chest as darkness breathes within our breast our spirit clings to walls of death envisioning a light bereft imprisoned by a hollow chest there's a certain song that's wept within the halls of sacrament grief begone and faith beget freedom from a hollow chest © Jason Cole

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May 31, 2015

May 31, 2015 at 7:56 AM UTC

Hollow Chest

when darkness falls upon my death this heart is reaped head laid to rest do not weep nor steep regret you mustn't grieve a hollow chest the calling of a soul to shed all mortal sheaths and specious breath divinely deemed a doom beset by shadows of a hollow chest as darkness breathes within our breast our spirit clings to walls of death envisioning a light bereft imprisoned by a hollow chest there's a certain song that's wept within the halls of sacrament grief begone and faith beget freedom from a hollow chest © Jason Cole

25

some folks got it better than some some people got it better than none count my money like i'm countin' sheep one eye open that's how i sleep i got a big house and a fancy car both of 'em got a hell of a bar when push comes to shove mister talk is cheap my three dollar shovel runs six feet deep i'm a smooth operator what's yours is mine i'm a mover and a shaker the devilish kind start my percolator won't a drop be weak born to be a taker i'm playin' for keeps feels so good i'm so glad i'm so bad my old lady says she needs to be free but no woman ever gets far from me my backdoor baby told me she don't care long as she's able to get her share well i don't know about you and yours this life of mine's worth fightin' for man over yonder sayin' it ain't fair hey i don't make the rules i just bring 'em to bear i'm a smooth operator what's yours is mine i'm a mover and a shaker the devilish kind start my percolator won't a drop be weak born to be a taker i'm playin' for keeps feels so good i'm so glad i'm so bad eye to eye and pound for pound fist for fist and round to round i'm the one that gets the doin' did and it's in season to flip my lid last one to try me is dead and gone don't even think of what you're thinkin' on been there done that is on my mind worlds unravel when i unwind i'm a smooth operator what's yours is mine i'm a mover and a shaker the devilish kind start my percolator won't a drop be weak born to be a taker i'm playin' for keeps feels so good i'm so glad i'm so bad feels so good i'm so glad i'm so bad

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May 30, 2015

May 30, 2015 at 7:26 AM UTC

So Glad I'm So Bad

some folks got it better than some some people got it better than none count my money like i'm countin' sheep one eye open that's how i sleep i got a big house and a fancy car both of 'em got a hell of a bar when push comes to shove mister talk is cheap my three dollar shovel runs six feet deep i'm a smooth operator what's yours is mine i'm a mover and a shaker the devilish kind start my percolator won't a drop be weak born to be a taker i'm playin' for keeps feels so good i'm so glad i'm so bad my old lady says she needs to be free but no woman ever gets far from me my backdoor baby told me she don't care long as she's able to get her share well i don't know about you and yours this life of mine's worth fightin' for man over yonder sayin' it ain't fair hey i don't make the rules i just bring 'em to bear i'm a smooth operator what's yours is mine i'm a mover and a shaker the devilish kind start my percolator won't a drop be weak born to be a taker i'm playin' for keeps feels so good i'm so glad i'm so bad eye to eye and pound for pound fist for fist and round to round i'm the one that gets the doin' did and it's in season to flip my lid last one to try me is dead and gone don't even think of what you're thinkin' on been there done that is on my mind worlds unravel when i unwind i'm a smooth operator what's yours is mine i'm a mover and a shaker the devilish kind start my percolator won't a drop be weak born to be a taker i'm playin' for keeps feels so good i'm so glad i'm so bad feels so good i'm so glad i'm so bad

57

i'm tossin' and turnin' baby since that little girl left my bed tossin' and turnin' baby over all the hurtful things i said been wonderin' how she's gettin' on and if she knows she's still in my head i'm tossin' and turnin' baby 'bout seven days every week tossin' and turnin' baby gaining guilt and losing sleep thinkin' i should'a done more to make her see she's my only need i'm tossin' and turnin' baby just like an old plow out in the field tossin' and turnin' baby like a beat up wagon wheel now what i say is all i feel how i do love that little girl still

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May 28, 2015

May 28, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC

Tossin' And Turnin'

i'm tossin' and turnin' baby since that little girl left my bed tossin' and turnin' baby over all the hurtful things i said been wonderin' how she's gettin' on and if she knows she's still in my head i'm tossin' and turnin' baby 'bout seven days every week tossin' and turnin' baby gaining guilt and losing sleep thinkin' i should'a done more to make her see she's my only need i'm tossin' and turnin' baby just like an old plow out in the field tossin' and turnin' baby like a beat up wagon wheel now what i say is all i feel how i do love that little girl still

18

the glass is half empty my mind is too full negativity is all that tempts me with its downward pull with broken feathers i fall from the sky when it's always cloudy weather hope is sure to die once i was lost broken and dying now i can be found fearlessly flying I'm a saint of the vapor that's my God-given nature I'm only here for a season with my heart, pen, and paper

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May 22, 2015

May 22, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC

Fallen and Ascending Angels (a collaboration with GaryL)

the glass is half empty my mind is too full negativity is all that tempts me with its downward pull with broken feathers i fall from the sky when it's always cloudy weather hope is sure to die once i was lost broken and dying now i can be found fearlessly flying I'm a saint of the vapor that's my God-given nature I'm only here for a season with my heart, pen, and paper

16

riding the shadowless night in search of his darkest day more or less there's Hell to pay and this is the way of The Wanderer rocky is the path of mossless stones and where it leads is less than known nevertheless 'tis where he roams and this is the way of The Wanderer much pity there should not be as he has visited much pain upon others passing like a wraith through their friendly hearts leaving nothing real or true in his wake nothing could be so bold as a lost soul unafraid of what is unknown afoot the rocky path of mossless stones all alone and this is the way of i i am The Wanderer

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May 22, 2015

May 22, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC

The Wanderer

riding the shadowless night in search of his darkest day more or less there's Hell to pay and this is the way of The Wanderer rocky is the path of mossless stones and where it leads is less than known nevertheless 'tis where he roams and this is the way of The Wanderer much pity there should not be as he has visited much pain upon others passing like a wraith through their friendly hearts leaving nothing real or true in his wake nothing could be so bold as a lost soul unafraid of what is unknown afoot the rocky path of mossless stones all alone and this is the way of i i am The Wanderer

18

pray somebody pray for me why don't you pray just bow your head and pray for me done went and lost my direction i wander 'round aimlessly got one foot in my coffin the other's in the grave get so sick of livin' 'cause i'm tired most everyday please pray somebody bow their head for me i'm lonely as a prisoner my heart is shade 'neath the tree pray somebody pray for me why don't you pray just bow your head and pray for me when i look at my reflection my eyes are filled with misery Mama she ain't lyin' when she says what's on my brain but i can't stop her cryin' she sees right through my pain Mama pray just bow your worried head for me you know i ain't been forgiven and i'm so scared i'll never be pray somebody pray for me why don't you pray just bow your head and pray for me i just turned my head up to Heaven midnight's all i seen

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May 21, 2015

May 21, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC

Pray

pray somebody pray for me why don't you pray just bow your head and pray for me done went and lost my direction i wander 'round aimlessly got one foot in my coffin the other's in the grave get so sick of livin' 'cause i'm tired most everyday please pray somebody bow their head for me i'm lonely as a prisoner my heart is shade 'neath the tree pray somebody pray for me why don't you pray just bow your head and pray for me when i look at my reflection my eyes are filled with misery Mama she ain't lyin' when she says what's on my brain but i can't stop her cryin' she sees right through my pain Mama pray just bow your worried head for me you know i ain't been forgiven and i'm so scared i'll never be pray somebody pray for me why don't you pray just bow your head and pray for me i just turned my head up to Heaven midnight's all i seen

34

To make love is a wonderful thing. An irreplaceable feeling of sheer ecstasy. A man and a woman sharing their very souls. An emotionally charged volcano with an eruption of love. Literally a bonding of mind, body, and soul. And, quite simply, emotions in motion.

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May 15, 2015

May 15, 2015 at 4:07 PM UTC

Emotions In Motion

To make love is a wonderful thing. An irreplaceable feeling of sheer ecstasy. A man and a woman sharing their very souls. An emotionally charged volcano with an eruption of love. Literally a bonding of mind, body, and soul. And, quite simply, emotions in motion.

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