jordan-p-sanders - Hello Poetry

Letting Go My past is haunted with your memory, it quakes when I put myself out there to meet someone new, someone who I hope isn’t like you It’s not that you’re bad or inexcusably uncouth, it’s that you were everything I wanted until I learned the truth The truth is that I’ve lived in my imagination since I was small wishing for a girl to give my life meaning by loving the shy little boy too scared to share his feelings I envisioned a hippy girl with a penchant for reclusiveness, one whose wild spirit saved me from uselessness I was a wandering poet with no direction in life A floater in existence looking for his wife I wanted a soulmate to fill this empty void A romance whose purity couldn’t be destroyed I yearned for a damsel in a sunflower dress A girl’s whose energy shined like a crest She had to be beautiful, creative, and smart I wouldn’t settle for a girl with a cold hardened heart It seemed like a dream when we finally met A feeling washed over me I couldn’t forget You captured my heart in a lovers fever I promised myself I’d never deceive her Time progressed as a hurricane’s breath blew cyclonic winds into our nest, the tides of darkness began to infest a relationship built on childish dreams, fantasies like hypnotism that obfuscate passion with abusive screams Hear the rapping at the cellar door, it’s tapping morse code and forebodes the roads we have travelled will diverge, it says our shadow essence will emerge purified after we project the black inside on the light we aspire to contrive You see, I was a naïve boy with a heart of gold who risked it all in an act so bold that even God was flabbergasted, I pledged my allegiance to you in a moment of deep despair, when my soul was laid bare before the altar of grief, I cried in your car and felt total relief, then we made love in your backseat But now, I pledge allegiance only to myself, an undying reverence to my ability to cultivate internal beauty, sophistication, and wealth, to maintain my physical and mental health, to find love without destroying my identity, to live in the present without soulful indemnity, to share my heart with careful consideration, to not lose myself in aesthetic infatuation, to trust my gift of artful intuition, to trust my gut when it alerts my suspicion, to let go of a loyalty that was never earned, to let go of a woman whose bridge I’ve burned What I felt was not love but the heart’s pangs for attention, an ascension to being the most important person in the eyes of another, to be chosen as The One, as someone’s lover Everything I ever wanted, only it was the wrong person only I wasn’t ready for real commitment only I did it because I was lonely Give me peace or give me death the brokenhearted alcoholic’s breath Fill my veins with renewed conviction an IV of restored positive intention Take my hand at the dawn of the new moon the man inside will be here soon Memories live in me as music Lyrics are the electricity in my brain Every word unlocks a door to self And now, now I’m dropping the drawbridge.

0

Oct 9, 2020

Oct 9, 2020 at 1:40 AM UTC

Letting Go

Letting Go My past is haunted with your memory, it quakes when I put myself out there to meet someone new, someone who I hope isn’t like you It’s not that you’re bad or inexcusably uncouth, it’s that you were everything I wanted until I learned the truth The truth is that I’ve lived in my imagination since I was small wishing for a girl to give my life meaning by loving the shy little boy too scared to share his feelings I envisioned a hippy girl with a penchant for reclusiveness, one whose wild spirit saved me from uselessness I was a wandering poet with no direction in life A floater in existence looking for his wife I wanted a soulmate to fill this empty void A romance whose purity couldn’t be destroyed I yearned for a damsel in a sunflower dress A girl’s whose energy shined like a crest She had to be beautiful, creative, and smart I wouldn’t settle for a girl with a cold hardened heart It seemed like a dream when we finally met A feeling washed over me I couldn’t forget You captured my heart in a lovers fever I promised myself I’d never deceive her Time progressed as a hurricane’s breath blew cyclonic winds into our nest, the tides of darkness began to infest a relationship built on childish dreams, fantasies like hypnotism that obfuscate passion with abusive screams Hear the rapping at the cellar door, it’s tapping morse code and forebodes the roads we have travelled will diverge, it says our shadow essence will emerge purified after we project the black inside on the light we aspire to contrive You see, I was a naïve boy with a heart of gold who risked it all in an act so bold that even God was flabbergasted, I pledged my allegiance to you in a moment of deep despair, when my soul was laid bare before the altar of grief, I cried in your car and felt total relief, then we made love in your backseat But now, I pledge allegiance only to myself, an undying reverence to my ability to cultivate internal beauty, sophistication, and wealth, to maintain my physical and mental health, to find love without destroying my identity, to live in the present without soulful indemnity, to share my heart with careful consideration, to not lose myself in aesthetic infatuation, to trust my gift of artful intuition, to trust my gut when it alerts my suspicion, to let go of a loyalty that was never earned, to let go of a woman whose bridge I’ve burned What I felt was not love but the heart’s pangs for attention, an ascension to being the most important person in the eyes of another, to be chosen as The One, as someone’s lover Everything I ever wanted, only it was the wrong person only I wasn’t ready for real commitment only I did it because I was lonely Give me peace or give me death the brokenhearted alcoholic’s breath Fill my veins with renewed conviction an IV of restored positive intention Take my hand at the dawn of the new moon the man inside will be here soon Memories live in me as music Lyrics are the electricity in my brain Every word unlocks a door to self And now, now I’m dropping the drawbridge.

89

I tried to write a love poem, but all I saw was the bleak fog of forgotten dreams, an endless list of broken promises; I walked circles in corn fields, flattening ***** cornstalks until they spelled out “love me.” The brokenhearted are the first to sacrifice True Love for a scientific deconstruction of a lover’s kiss, rationalizations coded in clinical language, “oxytocin this” and “dopamine that,” it can all be explained, there is no magic. Scorned lovers dwell in limbo, swiping right on the first piece of *** who reminds them of the past, whose photoshopped photo promises them Heaven; True Love is now a simulation, a cold affair with a blue light beaming back cute girls, any one could be your Pam. I fall in love with a screen over and over, until, all that’s left is a bleak fog of forgotten dreams, an endless list of broken promises; all I feel is emptiness, all I see is desperation. I “Super Like” you, but I don’t even know you; the dissonance hurts unconsciously, poisoning a deeply dug well of romance, the poetic truth serum secreted from the center of my heart is spoiled-- I hate how easy it is to lie, to delete to erase to become a ghost. I say, “I’ll talk to you later,” but I never do, you never even cared if I did, or at least, that’s what I tell myself in a bleak fog of forgotten dreams, that’s what I write on my endless list of broken promises; the sentiment is returned, and love, True Love, continues to hide in art, music, poetry, and film, the last refuge for a romantic heart.

0

Apr 23, 2020

Apr 23, 2020 at 1:55 AM UTC

Super Like

I tried to write a love poem, but all I saw was the bleak fog of forgotten dreams, an endless list of broken promises; I walked circles in corn fields, flattening ***** cornstalks until they spelled out “love me.” The brokenhearted are the first to sacrifice True Love for a scientific deconstruction of a lover’s kiss, rationalizations coded in clinical language, “oxytocin this” and “dopamine that,” it can all be explained, there is no magic. Scorned lovers dwell in limbo, swiping right on the first piece of *** who reminds them of the past, whose photoshopped photo promises them Heaven; True Love is now a simulation, a cold affair with a blue light beaming back cute girls, any one could be your Pam. I fall in love with a screen over and over, until, all that’s left is a bleak fog of forgotten dreams, an endless list of broken promises; all I feel is emptiness, all I see is desperation. I “Super Like” you, but I don’t even know you; the dissonance hurts unconsciously, poisoning a deeply dug well of romance, the poetic truth serum secreted from the center of my heart is spoiled-- I hate how easy it is to lie, to delete to erase to become a ghost. I say, “I’ll talk to you later,” but I never do, you never even cared if I did, or at least, that’s what I tell myself in a bleak fog of forgotten dreams, that’s what I write on my endless list of broken promises; the sentiment is returned, and love, True Love, continues to hide in art, music, poetry, and film, the last refuge for a romantic heart.

38

I often forget who I am or at least who I’d like to be I often can’t see straight and figments of symbols become me I feel the night’s baroque intention, I lay wasted in the kitchen Asking the gods for forgiveness On warm days I’m a traveler betrothed to the road of existence Leather-tramping for purpose with Time as my mistress She allows me passage into the night, and all she requires is patience I manage a smile during this trial by fire, ashes blacken my palms with a vengeance Soot covered eyelashes flicker faster than the flame that birthed them And when I’m finally judged as guilty, I won’t be surprised I knew this moment was coming.

0

Apr 30, 2013

Apr 30, 2013 at 9:50 AM UTC

Poem 001

I often forget who I am or at least who I’d like to be I often can’t see straight and figments of symbols become me I feel the night’s baroque intention, I lay wasted in the kitchen Asking the gods for forgiveness On warm days I’m a traveler betrothed to the road of existence Leather-tramping for purpose with Time as my mistress She allows me passage into the night, and all she requires is patience I manage a smile during this trial by fire, ashes blacken my palms with a vengeance Soot covered eyelashes flicker faster than the flame that birthed them And when I’m finally judged as guilty, I won’t be surprised I knew this moment was coming.

20

Moral depravity is a commercial asset *** is love Love only happens to beautiful people People with chiseled jaws unstrap silken bras Bras are meant to be **** and not intelligible Intelligence is secondary to primary skill sets Set up the idyllic world in your imagination Imagine that you will one day know the answers to everything Everything will be simpler and no one will hurt you You, the delicate breadwinner who scored perfect SAT's Sat down by harsh lessons that cannot be studied with the help of Adderal Add up all your triumphs and they will only be a 63 percent You have failed life Li[F]e.

0

Apr 2, 2013

Apr 2, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC

Nothing is Sacred

Moral depravity is a commercial asset *** is love Love only happens to beautiful people People with chiseled jaws unstrap silken bras Bras are meant to be **** and not intelligible Intelligence is secondary to primary skill sets Set up the idyllic world in your imagination Imagine that you will one day know the answers to everything Everything will be simpler and no one will hurt you You, the delicate breadwinner who scored perfect SAT's Sat down by harsh lessons that cannot be studied with the help of Adderal Add up all your triumphs and they will only be a 63 percent You have failed life Li[F]e.

14

Our routine entwines filaments of comfort Finely woven between gaps of unoccupied time My hands wrinkle with the loss of my youth Cracks and flakes of dryness and Future I am only 23, but my soul says otherwise My fingernails grow like tree branches I cut them down and use them as swords Battling imaginary creatures who stalk my shadow Each victory harms my ego Each trophy an intangible farce Foreknowledge and foresight allowed me to forego certain forgotten ceremonies; I encounter them on the road to Manhood Avoiding each by traveling the dark impasse I cloak my yearning in a wool coat and a bright red scarf Bound by absurdity, I become the High Priest of Ritual Anointed with the experience of Curiosity’s fluid influence I wade in the shallow waters to catch my breath I see you walking on the pier, Pensive and lonely I am too late.

0

Apr 2, 2013

Apr 2, 2013 at 12:12 AM UTC

An Impasse

Our routine entwines filaments of comfort Finely woven between gaps of unoccupied time My hands wrinkle with the loss of my youth Cracks and flakes of dryness and Future I am only 23, but my soul says otherwise My fingernails grow like tree branches I cut them down and use them as swords Battling imaginary creatures who stalk my shadow Each victory harms my ego Each trophy an intangible farce Foreknowledge and foresight allowed me to forego certain forgotten ceremonies; I encounter them on the road to Manhood Avoiding each by traveling the dark impasse I cloak my yearning in a wool coat and a bright red scarf Bound by absurdity, I become the High Priest of Ritual Anointed with the experience of Curiosity’s fluid influence I wade in the shallow waters to catch my breath I see you walking on the pier, Pensive and lonely I am too late.

23

I feed my loneliness like a beloved pet However, my loneliness does not love me like I do it I strive to give it attention, but it wants only to forget the notions that I need it, when I’m swelling with regret. Someday I will burst and my loneliness won’t be upset For it knew what was coming… The moment I always seem to forget.

0

Oct 12, 2011

Oct 12, 2011 at 10:21 PM UTC

My loneliness...

I feed my loneliness like a beloved pet However, my loneliness does not love me like I do it I strive to give it attention, but it wants only to forget the notions that I need it, when I’m swelling with regret. Someday I will burst and my loneliness won’t be upset For it knew what was coming… The moment I always seem to forget.

12