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 Aug 2018 Joash
Isabelle
i touched your soul
and scribbled my name on it
love, you’ll never get lost again
She can walk
          between
             night and day
               never letting either
                  get in her way.
She learned this trick
                     many moons ago
                                by
                     going deep within
           and never letting it show.
Her soul is innocent
her heart is pure
she’s gone through more
than most could endure.
            She’s an angel of light
                 an angel of dark
                 you never know
              what you will spark.
                      You want to hurt her?
                         Please, go ahead and try
                           she’ll be the one to show you
                                  just how well she can
                                                              f
­                                                                l­
                                                                ­  y.
                                  Her soul innocent
                    her heart pure
      but never think for one minute
that she’s not secure.
                                Say what you will
                          please, do what you must
                       but your jealousy and hatred
                             won’t waver her trust!
~
Even Those Angels Out There Have Their Limits…..
 Aug 2018 Joash
EBTI
Depression shall not get the best of you
Between all of the colors, you chose blue
Tell me what makes you happy if I couldn’t do
All of the books and paper, i wish I could listen to you
You are cutting your wings and I am gluing  them on
With me or with out me, you are going to be strong
If my poems and I didn’t stand tall
We’ll fall with you but, surely later we will catch on
We will crush all of your sad feelings,
We will crush them all
Only sunshine baby, even if your sky was blue
And I am here for you!
 Aug 2018 Joash
Pluck
I hear songs
 Aug 2018 Joash
Pluck
I wish this poem was a song,
And you all could sing along 
Cause there’s this beat is my head
I write and tap my hands laying in my bed. 
The words match the rhythm so well
It’s the perfect song & no one else can tell. 
I wish this poem was a song 
And you all could sing along. 
I pour out & imagine crowds saying what I say. 
Everyone feeling how I feel when I’m with her on a Saturday. 
If I picked up a guitar, I wouldn’t get far 
But I swear , if y’all could hear what’s in my ear, I’d be a star. 
I wish this poem was a song.
And you all could sing along.
 Aug 2018 Joash
Busbar Dancer
People only ever want to ask me about
the poetry -
those verses about
busted up noses in outer space;
about the pros working
way down passed
the corner of Broad and Main;
about fistfights and hard, hard drinking.
But I built a flowerbed this weekend...
Twenty two tastefully irregular stone blocks
in a crescent moon shape,
filled with the blackest of soils.
The sweat of toil.
The digging.
The planting.
Exotic grasses. Asian maybe?
Purple and yellow flowers.
Zinnias or some **** thing.
All covered in a thick blanket of brown mulch.
It's a fine thing to have dirt on your hands
instead of blood.
No one ever asks me about flowerbeds.
 Aug 2018 Joash
soliana
she gave me her nudes
she was bare
and naked
and so out
and open
and i willingly
accepted it
because it wasnt the nudes
that showed her body
the physical aspects
that made her beautiful
it was the words
she didnt choose
and the spontaneity
that left her
either from her lips
or her fingers
or ink

she was as bare
as her nudes
and i accepted
her for her.
10:02 PM 5/1/2018
 Aug 2018 Joash
Orange Rose
I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.

— The End —