jesse-bourque
Canadian
I suppose I'm some sort of amateur poet. I've been writing for years but never actively. I never set out to write a poem, it just happens. For me writing poetry is like exorcism. It all just builds up and pours out onto the page, it come to me in dreams, and I let it out. War, love and dreams. I humbly implore you to read on. / / Cheers
Ice in my lungs
Fire in my limbs
Fly, Soar
Soles brush the earth
with teasing kisses
Pounding
Rushing
Lightning
down my fingertips
Heart rattling tempo
Won't stop
Every bleeding breath
Exhilarating
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
okay,
Perfectly okay
your words
so sweetly in my ear
close by my side,
so close
so far,
were these arms wings
I would fly to you
playing love by ear,
we're scared stiff
but we'll be perfectly okay,
okay?
Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 11:09 PM UTC
The nightsky, a backdrop
painted milky white,
softened by the drifting of snow
On our backs
the roof, cold and hard
beneath us
a blanket of white covers the world
Slipping free,
falling softly into the drifts below us
as I close my eyes
you brush my lips with a kiss
I snap awake
but you're gone.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 4:54 PM UTC
love is the
sweetest blindness
adrift
on a sea of longing
I curse my frozen tongue
my heart
has so much to say
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 3:19 PM UTC
wake up
I shed these skins
that are not mine
open your eyes
I doff this mask,
shake loose these subtle facets
break free
I, the marionette
all strings cut
shall here-aft
dance for no one
Judge my masks,
I am safe behind them
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 3:17 PM UTC
It is with great sadness that
I write to inform you
*this is madness
the smoke is so thick
stitched through with tracer fire
I can feel it burning the back of my throat,
stinging my eyes*
That your son has been
killed in action
*my rifle is bucking in my hands
recoiling from the slaughter
before me,
as I too recoil
nothing makes sense anymore*
Words can not express
the sorrow
*everything is slowing down
blood kisses the air before me
it's-
oh god
it's my blood
I'm falling*
You must be feeling
at this time
*it's so quiet
I can't move
oh god
it's so quiet,
why can I still hear the screams?*
Know that he did his duty
and died for his country
*it's so quiet
so cold
I-*
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 4:49 PM UTC
I am standing
in the shadow of god machines
In the valley of death
wrapped in the bones of a dying sun
The city is incandescent
with the furnace flames
Of the great engine of war,
and I am floundering in the ashes
It is deafeningly silent,
and in the distance
I can see her,
in robes as bright a blue
As mine are ***** grey,
draped over my tired frame
We hold each other tight,
huddled close in a shallow crater
Finding sanctuary in turmoil
and in war
peace
Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 8:03 AM UTC
Coiled tension
like a spring
tightly wound
at rest
never resting
what wasn't said, what was
action and inaction
what could, what if
can't forget
wide awake
laden with turbulent thoughts
adrift in a roiling storm
a grainy record, looping
If only I. If only I. If only I.
if only if only
if -
Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 7:56 AM UTC
Poetry is freedom
Free of the shackles
of grammar
and format
Free verse
Forever
Aug 24, 2010
Aug 24, 2010 at 9:28 AM UTC
KABUL, Afghanistan
scorching sun
phantoms of heat
drifting above the roadway
Col. Geoff Parker, 42
"rising star"
perched in the command vehicle
proudly on guard
Taliban
wild rush -- crump
waves of heat and fire
spinning debris
"This barbaric act of aggression"
anger and outrage
desert wind flutters
tattered and scorched fatigues
"It's always unfortunate"
reek of charred flesh
guttering flames
unfortunate
Aug 24, 2010
Aug 24, 2010 at 9:09 AM UTC