Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
James Jun 17
In.
Stuck within.
A place,
A palace:
Home.
You're home.
Don't stray far.
Wondering where it'll take you.
Home...
It'll take you no where.

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

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

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.

Here
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 19
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.
James Jun 2020
When the heart gets heavy,
They say to look back.
Look back
To the times that have gone.
But, where did they go?
Where did you go?
Where did I go?

When the heart gets heavy,
They say to look back.
Back to the times
Where you and I,
Where we,
Where once,
We were.

When the heart gets heavy,
They say to look back.
Back to where you belonged,
Back to a place,
A place called home.

A place where you knew you were loved.
A place where you knew you were warm.
A place where you knew you had a family.
A place which you called home.

Home,
I'll never forget it,
But perhaps,
I've been gone for so long,
It forgot about me.

So When the heart gets heavy,
And they say to look back,
Back into the past,
Where do I look?
James May 2020
An affinity sequestered away in a languid beat of my heart.
To whom I've fallen for so gravely ill, this churning affection grows a part within me.

The fire toils for a great satisfaction,
one of which I cannot fufill.
The strung voices that I provoke to keep you in the know are nothing but a timid reliance to keep me in the dark; a fault I've succumbed to, and a death I'll forever hold in disconcertion.

Perhaps it is best I keep the key for my own, but this pent affliction will be a pernicious ailment, gutting me within as the present becomes the past—day by day.

Oh, how I walk among the shadows,
lurking in a void, consumed by the daunting portents of failure.
Oh, how the hauntings of what could have been lingers.

But, alas, my silence has spoken, and now I must walk the shade of night and bear the quietude of my lonely plight.
James May 2020
A life of serpentine-driven fate,
a flow of undulating winds,
is a life left in desuetude,
ululating for a course more driven.
James Mar 2020
Sing the song of gratitude,
should the grass grow.
Felt beneath our feet,
the soil breathing its song.
Let it growl a languid tone,
for its tongue rests underneath its greenth overflows and wild creatures.
A picture of placidity it draws, hidden under its overtone of yellow kingdom.
Don't let it loom over you,
for its stature is everything but onerous.
Tell it why you fear not the soil nor its engulfing sky, and it shall move the winds easy.
Speak with candor and imbue it with your love.
Because when it hears your song of gratitude, it too will sing.
Next page