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James Dec 2021
I can already feel it...
Please don't let it like before.
I need water.
I need light.
I need to know what I am doing.

I don't want to end up like before:
Vomiting my guts out,
Praying that I don't die,
Not before the flush.

I've drunk enough.
I've had enough.
Please don't let me spend
The night before the flush.

I've had enough.
God knows
I'm sorry.

I beg...
No more.
Not until the sunlight.
Not until—
Not no more.

I swear...
No more.
I swear...
No more.
Not until sunlight...
A struggle with alcohol and all it's manipulative sensations.
James Dec 2021
For tomorrow to come,
We sleep.

Like a reset
Of yesterday.

Forget about what
Had happened.

Let's wake up
To a new dawn.
A new day.
A new memory.

Allow us to move
Into a new light,
And keep the good going
And the going good.
James Oct 2021
They say you don't gain anything
From being humble;
That life doesn't find you
Hiding behind closed curtains.

I think that's the problem:
It doesn't need to find you
Because you've already been found.

Just because you weren't met
With the grandeur of "success"
It doesn't mean you haven't lived.

It's the simple things in life
That are truly the finest.
Don't vie... you're already there.
James Sep 2021
To live for oneself is not selfish:
It is human.
To live for others
Is purpose.
Response to Ayn Rand's philosophy, i.e., from interview on Mike Wallace Is Here
James Jun 2021
Stuck within.
A place,
A palace:
You're home.
Don't stray far.
Wondering where it'll take you.
It'll take you no where.

You're home.
A comfort.
A place.
A sort of--
A green in blue.

I gather,
A thought or so,
A place anew:

At hand,
A drink or two.
A night's cry;
A bellow from winds.
A thought or so;
The thought
Of green in blue.

How I've been here before.
A world,
A place,
All too familiar.
To experience it ever more;
Oh, what a world.

And there,
I've been;
A place
Where no one would go.
A sort of world
Like Home.

Yes, I've been
To a place
Like home--
Not like yours or mine;
But a home.
A home,
A sort of
Green in blue.
A kind of blue to long for the past.
James Jan 2021
No place.
No place to go.
No place to hide.
No place for help.
No place to confide.

Hurt in between,
But not at all.
Hurt in the heart,
But not at all.

Not here nor there;
But somewhere
The hurt bears,
And it does not fit anywhere.

In the middle,
In a muddle
Of things
In life.
It's there.
It's here.
But it doesn't fit anywhere.

They've made it
For you and me.
It's there
For me and you:
A place for us.

A place to share.
A place to breathe.
A place to rest,
A place to lie.

A place for us.
In peace,
A place,
A final wake.

Let's share it,
You and I.

A place beyond.
A place above
And below.

No other to go.
So let us share
A place.
Above and below.
A poem for those who are bound in limbo.
James Sep 2020
Ive been gone.
A long awaited freedom.
Gone for so long.
Ive been gone.
For too long,
Ive been gone.

In my memories,
A past lingers in a haze.
The spaces so divided,
A connection seemingly quixotic.

Its cloudy.
Its dark.
A moment in space.

It feels like an eternity.
Floating in a universe with possible impossibilities.
Yet I remain aimlessly afloat,
enshrouded in nothing.

No drift
No serendipity
No clemency
To pull me from this cold idle.

And when I see a comet hurdling by,
I can only wish to share its great journey.
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