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4.7k · Feb 2017
Fear of Drowning
J B Moore Feb 2017
I'm standing at the edge, too afraid to move
Looking down into the bottomless pool.
I've fallen in before and didn't drown then
But standing here now it's a question of when.

I liked it before, I enjoyed the cool waters
Splashing over my head, cooling me down.
The sound of laughter and joy filled my ears,
But now I can only watch, too afraid that I might drown.

What if the waters fill my lungs and I can't breathe
Or if I tire too quick and get pulled down by the current
The air might leave my lungs when no one's around
And I might not break the surface, I might drown.

I can't take the leap of faith, I'm paralyzed in fear,
Yet my friends are there laughing as they search blindly for each other.
I take a step back content with being alone;
I'm close enough to feel their joy though I know it's not my own.

When someone like me comes along
Too afraid to take the leap, yet afraid to be alone
I know pushing them in would serve them best
But instead I talk them through it until they can jump in on their own

As they swim there, a smile on their face,
They call to me, asking me to join in their race,
But I'm a hypocrite of my own making.
I talk big and give good advice, but in the end I'm just faking .

And so I sit on the edge of the pool,
with my feet in the water.
Just out of reach of all the fools
Who think my place is in the water.

Though I know I can swim that doesn't stop me.
Though I'm sure I'd enjoy it that doesn't help me.
So here I sit in the same place they've all found me,
Sitting on the edge of life, so afraid of drowning.

2/3/17 1:00 am
3.9k · Apr 2016
A Beautiful Gem
J B Moore Apr 2016
Don't ever let any one tell you that you're not beautiful.

You are a most precious gem, 
         beautiful in nature, unique in design.
                 One of which all men are hoping to find
A gem that should be strung on a necklace
                       and kept close to the heart, 
Yet necklaces are often only seen in part.

Perhaps you should be on the band of a ring 
                             on a hand like a string, 
    reminding everyone of your glorious beauty,
Yes for all the world to see the treasure that you be. 

But hands are often, time and again 
                       bound to get ***** now and then. 
No, not on necklace nor a ring can 
                        all your beauty be on display. 
If there was something I could do,
                         if I could just find a way.

Perhaps on the ear you can hang, 
          where no dirt will be
   But lo, there is hair and hair blocks
              the beauty the world needs to see. 

Where can I put a gem like you?
         Necklace, ring, and earring all won't do
   So where can I display a beauty like you?

At last only one place remains, 
            (Though your beauty I could never contain)
    In a case, behind glass, on a stand made of brass, 
        where dirt nor hair get in the way
        where your beauty can be put on display. 

Then the world may know what treasure have I,
to hold such a gem as yourself makes me one blessed guy.

2/11/12
3.2k · Dec 2015
Beauty of the Seasons
J B Moore Dec 2015
Oh the beauty of the seasons,
Each one with it's own specific reasons.
Winter springing as Summer is falling,
Look at the sounds of Memory, calling.

Feel the warmth as a summer breeze blows;
Washing us over, from our head to our toes.
Remember the laughter spent in summer days bright
As children dance with glee into the summer night.
As August comes to an end you should know,
Summer is the season in which life and friendships grow.

Oh the beauty of the seasons,
Each one with it's own specific reasons.
Winter springing as Summer is falling
Look at the sounds of Memory, calling.

Autumn is here now and summer is over
Kids return to school another year older.
This is the season where change happens most
The beauty in the changes, her greatest boast.
We gather around while the world outside is dying
Giving thanks for each other, while others are crying.

Oh the beauty of the seasons,
Each one with it's own specific reasons.
Winter springing as Summer is falling
Look at the sounds of Memory, calling.

Old man Winter arrives with a storm
Beating us down, making us worn.
But then the storm is over and snow covers the ground.
Frozen crystals hang from the trees, beauty all around.
Winter has washed the dead of the land snow white.
A reminder of the power of the perfect work of Christ.

Oh the beauty of the seasons,
Each one with it's own specific reasons;
Winter springing as Summer is falling
Look at the sounds of Memory, calling.

As old man Winter blows away,
Spring brings life with each new day.
A gentle breeze blows in the honey bees
That love the very trees that make you sneeze.
Rain drops splatter with every April shower,
Working with the Sun to give life to every flower. 

Oh the beauty of the seasons,
Each one with it's own specific reasons;
Winter springing as Summer is falling
Look at the sounds of Memory, calling.

Winter covers Autumn's death with beautiful snow white
And Spring brings the rain to give us life.
As life lives through the summer we continue to grow,
And Autumn reminds us of things we don't want to know:
There is a beauty to change and even in death,
So long as you live for Him who gives rest.

Oh the beauty of the seasons,
Each one with it's own specific reasons;
Winter springing as Summer is falling
Look at the sounds of Memory, calling.

7/25/14
2.8k · Mar 2019
Flawed (Call Me Ugly)
J B Moore Mar 2019
Call me ugly, call me dumb
Say I’m boring and no fun.
You can say that I’m a mess,
You don’t have to be impressed.
Just tell me that I’m lazy,
You can even say I’m crazy,
‘Cause it may be somewhat true.
But please, whatever you do
Don’t tell me I’m too sweet,
That my company’s a treat.
Don’t say that I’m too nice a guy
That’s not a reason why.
If you’re not interested that’s fine,
Rather stay friends? Well, I don’t mind.
You could let me down easy,
Or you can say I make you queasy,
Just give me a reason, even blame it on fate
Just don’t blame it on one of my positive traits.
We’re all deeply flawed, you can take your pick
Just don’t choose something I don’t need to fix.

3/20/19
1.9k · Jun 2016
Lifeboat
J B Moore Jun 2016
I put you on a lifeboat and watched you sail safely through,
As I drowned in the ice cold waters thinking about you.

I've struggled and faught to keep my head afloat
In hopes that you'll come back for me in your little lifeboat.

We did our best to avoid the iceberg, or so I like to think
But being the Titanic we were doomed, bound to sink.
 
And we broke so quickly, like it was out of the blue.
Turns out love isn't a strong enough glue.

So here I swim in the freezing sea of sorrow
Hoping to find warmth in a better tomorrow.

I can try to pretend, pretend that I'm not sinking,
But all the while I can't stop myself from thinking.

Thinking that if I can just stay afloat for a while
You'll come sailing by in your little lifeboat with a smile.

But you won't come, you've already reached dry land.
So I struggle for my life, for anyone to lend their hand.

I can only hope that hand comes before I freeze.
Oh Lord, send me my own little lifeboat, please.

12/17/13
1.9k · Nov 2015
The Fisherman's Story
J B Moore Nov 2015
This is the Fisherman's tale
With a rod in hand and live bait in a pale,
Of a day spent out on the beach
And fish just a cast out of reach.

The day started as any fisherman would
Before the sun was up, when the fishing was good.
He hopped on his bike and road the old trail
Till he could smell the tides from the ocean gale.

Today was the day, he could feel it in his bones
He would bring food to his loved ones at home
This was his day, he was so sure,
With a brand new rod and a homemade lure.

Cast after cast, hour by hour
Time moved by until he started to sour
All that time and not a single bite;
Now clouds rolled in, black as night.

The wind started whipping the sand all around
Still the old fisherman stood his ground
The storm was coming, in just a matter of time
"I can't leave" he thought, "until that fish is mine."

As the thunder boomed and lightning crashed,
He decided to give just one more cast
As the rain came down, soaking him through
This was the one, he swore it was true.

Waiting there patiently, slowly he'd reel
Even if his legs he could no longer feel.
When all of a sudden with a great flash
he was able to tell that this was the cast.

The line went tight as he threw back the rod 
He was hooking this fish, he thought with a nod.
The battle that followed was one terrible fight
Fish verses man all through the night.

And as the sunlight rose, marking the dawn,
The fisherman still fought as the battle raged on.
He wouldn't give up, he wouldn't let it go
The fish was his, and he would soon let it know.

The fish neared the shore jumping clear through the sky
Only to get robbed off the hook by a seal passing by.
The fisherman stood there, staring in awe
"The seal stole my fish!" He thought dropping his jaw.

"The fish it was huge, six feet at least," he would say
"I fought it all day and night till that beast took it away"
Yet no one believed him, they just called him a goof
And scoffed, "how convenient it is, that you don't have any proof."

Still this is The Fisherman's story
After fishing all day and night on the beach
One filled with unseen glories
How he was one cast away from the catch of the week.
1.8k · Nov 2015
The Poem Siri Wrote
J B Moore Nov 2015
Letting his pome to Siri
Hopefully will make us 2.[period]
I got it matters what I say
Should probably change it anyway
Still out the 10 at home to Siri

I don't think contacts it should be
Around so cool be made out of me 
Still grumbling to choke 
So I don't waste too much rope
If anyone doesn't turn out too funny

After the person's coming
Bowman mentioned you running
Three more specific
It's more bulimic
Did everything go a plenty

Wonderwall things are
Fly high above All-Stars
Do you think that it's June,
That there Brazelton blue,
If they held and the press really hard?

So this is the phone from Siri
Not feeling quite weary
To Shay' pasta please process he,
Or just a foster for you' [apostrophe]? 
I guess we'll just have to see...

I'm writing this poem through Siri,
Hopefully it won't make us to teary,
I doubt it matters what I say,
she'll probably change it anyway,
Still I'll dictate my poem through Siri.

I don't think complex it should be,
Or else a fool will be made out of me
Still I'll grumble and I'll choke
So I don't raise too much hope
If in the end it doesn't turn out too funny.

After this verse it is coming
A poem that might send you running
Though to be more specific 
It's more of a limerick 
Than anything full of cunning.

I wonder where wild things are,
That fly high above all the stars?
Do you think that it's true,
That their face will turn blue,
If they held in their breath really hard?

So this is the poem from Siri
And now I'm feeling quite weary
For did I say 'pasta please',
Or just 'apostrophe'?
I guess we'll just have to ask Siri.

7/3/14
1.6k · Sep 2016
My True Name
J B Moore Sep 2016
I've always wanted someone to find,
A someone to leave all my worries behind
A stranger or friend who could tell me my own name,
True and unyielding, and without showing me shame.
Someone to crack me open and sort the mess inside,
Who would unpack any baggage, all lies set aside.
Just give me my purpose, show me my aim,
Please someone, anyone, tell me my name.

I know where I'm weak, but where am I strong?
I know all the things that I do that are wrong.
Of all of my hobbies, which should I pursue?
What do I like? What good could I do?
Stranger or friend, I have no one to blame
I suppose only I can teach me my true name.
9/11/16 1:00 am
1.4k · Nov 2015
Thought for Food
J B Moore Nov 2015
Is it indubitably unsuitable
to be suitably incommunicable
on the undeducible deduction
dubitably deduced
to be immovably unmovable
or doably undoable?

Or can a crazy conundrum communicate
the incommunicable indubitabilty
of the undeducibly suitable deduction?

Simply said,
such is doably suitable,
or indubitably deducible
if the doably communicable deduction

deduces down
to the suitably suitable,
Movably reducible reduction
that's indubitably doable.
1.4k · Mar 2016
Never Lost
J B Moore Mar 2016
Courage, why have you left me
Strength where have you gone
Faith, you fled into the world,
And left me wandering on.

Prayers you seem to be no more,
Hope, as well, has disappeared 
To the dark have I lost them both
Just like I had once feared.

I'm afraid I've finally been left alone
Shall anyone notice my cries out here?
But what's more there's a voice so soft,
I stop and wipe from my eyes my tears.

Someone, they're calling something out
It's too faint to hear as I'm too far away
Yet they must be getting closer 
For I can start to make out what they say

"Be strong, hold fast, take courage,
A command has He not given you?
For He will not leave, nor forsake;
Every tear that falls will He not come to?"

I stood up from where I was,
For I was no longer Alone.
By the voice of one like no other
Was a light to me shone.

I felt the cold leaving my body
Taking in warmth of the light I heard,
Strength came and filled my bones
At the sound of the Great Shepherd's word.

"Take heart and be strong, little lamb,
Here's something to ne'er forget
Many have been given to me by the Father
And of those many given, all shall be kept.

"This is a promise you have heard before
By it shall Faith and Hope return to you
Who will work together to bring back Prayer
And all this has come when there was naught you could do.

"Then given time Prayer will strengthen Faith
And they will work together along with God's grace
When all have become strong shall Courage come back
And all will have happened in their preordained place."

At the sound of His voice I fell down and worshiped
Just like he said came Hope, Faith, and Prayer,
When I finally looked up I could no longer see him
But, his promise remembered, I knew He was there.

And after some time along with much grace
I found that Courage was put back in his place
For as long as Faith would look toward the Cross
I knew, from God's Word, I would never be lost.

12/6/12
1.3k · Dec 2015
Ashes & Embers
J B Moore Dec 2015
Ashes falling, embers burn,
Sirens calling, "Lessons learned!"

"Help is on the way," they say,
But help won't make it here today.
You try to run but can't get away,
Death will come and fear will stay.

Ashes falling, embers burn,
Death is calling, "Lessons learned!"

Crimson streets, the bodies line,
Those still living are losing time.
Death is searching and will always find.
Fear will take hold and rot your mind.

Dreams are falling, memories return,
Regret is calling, "Lessons learned!"

"Play not with fire," you were always told,
"Lest you be burned before you grow old."
But you loved to stare at the colors bold,
Enjoying the heat, despising the cold.

Ashes falling, embers burn,
Fire is calling, "Lessons learned!"

You loved setting fires and watching them burn,
The only thing for which your heart ever yearned,
 But a flash and a bang say you'll never return;
Life is fading, lessons learned.


8/26/14
J B Moore Nov 2018
I feel like a creep, a stalker, a freak,
It wouldn’t be so if I moved my feet.
If I could walk over and say hello
And tell her the things I’d like her to know.
The time would be neat, pleasantly sweet.
It could be so if I would just speak.

I watch at a distance, scared I’ll seem weak.
It wouldn’t be so if I took the leap
Of faith, and with courage, gave her a smile,
Bridging the sea between our two isles.
Our eyes they would meet, such a pleasant treat.
It could be so when I dream as I sleep.

I feel like a freak, a stalker, a creep.
I wish it weren’t so, but I’m in too deep.

11/24/18 12:55a
1.3k · Nov 2016
Can't escape
J B Moore Nov 2016
I'm trapped in here,
I can't get out
"Somebody help me!
Please help me," I shout.

I'm bound by the hands,
With steel crushing my heart
I can barely stand
So I just fall apart

I'm giving up hope
Of living happily after,
Of a life spent with her
And all of our laughter.

I gave away my heart
Now my heart won't come back.
Was I doomed from the start?
Or is it faith that I lack?

I'm bound up in chains
Chained up like monster
Still filled with pain
Over the fact that I lost her.

How is it possible for me to move on?
Moving on with out any hope.
Hope died like memories fade, sinking into the dawn.
A new Dawn binding my feet like rope.

Still I am told I must pick myself up,
For who else is there to lend me a hand
Or to hand me a way to improve my "luck",
Though, luck's never made a man stand.

I thought all this time that "us" was a blessing,
The blessing that kept us together.
Instead, now I'm left constantly guessing.
Guessing what kept us from forever.

Now I'm trapped in a nightmare where nothing has changed
Save for the change of a loved one lost,
I'm lost in a world from which I feel so estranged,
Estranged from love, a lost-love's cost.

I cannot escape from this terrible dream,
Dreaming of days long gone.
Gone, I have gone and died it would seem.
Seemingly nothing can make me strong.

11/21/13
1.3k · Dec 2015
The Raven
J B Moore Dec 2015
Read the pages of ancient lore,
Where a creature lives in days of yore.
With violet, black, and silent wings
In the dark, a wretched thing.

Over bloodstained fields of dead men's flesh, 
Bringing forth the sting of death,
Silently soaring, with talons sharp
Quickly tearing the weak apart.

Who can stop it, strong and wise,
Seeing everything, with it's watchful eyes.
Never sastified, wanting more,
It's greed rotting it to the core.

Among the shadows it spends it's time
Plotting carefully within his mind
For the next time you come around,
 You'll try to scream, but won't make a sound.

He'll take what you have, to the very last straw,
Quickly and quietly as you watch in awe.
In the depths of your soul he deeply stares
You should be thankful if your life he spares 

He sees himself as full of power
Not knowing there will come an hour
At the time when no one else can hear
And the shadows he himself should fear.

For long ago, in days of yore, 
Within the pages of ancient lore
The dark became his haven, 
And he called himself The Raven

4/15/14
1.3k · Nov 2015
An Imaginative Creation
J B Moore Nov 2015
What is wrong with a world
Where the sky is green and the grass is blue?
Where up becomes down and left turns right
And the sun starts to rise first thing in the night?
Why can't people fly, and chickens dance,
And all the little critters wear pants?

What's wrong with a place 
Made with a creative imagination?
Or an imaginative creation
That makes everything new? 
You could have superpowers for even an hour
Heck, why not the whole day?
And those who lied, would be justified 
By the power of the truth we say.

See, I'd like to create a creature
That could change its physical features
To look like watches, gems, or diamond rings,
Or any other shiny thing.
What's wrong with a world like that?

What is so dangerous about the imagination?
Why do we frown upon its sight?
Am I crazy or is it true
Does the world reject the new
When upside down becomes upright?

I suppose the question now arises,
After all of these surprises,
As to the point I'm trying to make.
When this world is full of gloom
And we see ourselves as doomed
And our happiness is fake.
This is when we should look
Away from a screen and to a book
To find real happiness a piece of cake.

Let's explore the worlds within our minds
And perhaps we just might find 
a reason to live on.
For when the grass is too green and the sky is too blue
And you think your dreams will never come true, 
and your hope is gone,
Fly away to a secret place, 
look in the mirror and make a face,
So you can greet with a smile each new dawn.

This is the power of a creative imagination,
Building a world, an imaginative creation.

12/9/14
1.3k · Dec 2015
Rhythm of the Rain
J B Moore Dec 2015
Poetry is perfected in pain,
Music through the madness of life.
So let your worries fall like rain
With a melody like a knife.
Take your sorrows and your fears
Play them out like a song
Drown them with your tears;
Until the whole world sings along.

For poetry is unlike the sorrow;
Music, much unlike the pain.
Each describe the madness of the morrow
Where melodies and tired eyes are sleepily lain
And eloquent dreams of memories borrow
The magical, maddening rhythm of the rain.

12/9/15
1.2k · Aug 2016
Sally's Sickly Sister
J B Moore Aug 2016
This rhyming tongue twister filled with S's and P's 
Is said by Sally's sickly sister as she sits by the sea
Selling seashells as she tells Peter the Piper
To pick pecks of peppers presently ripe or
Else forage the forest for frog legs and bees.
But beware of the badger's butler named Steve
Who forgot of the fox in the box wearing socks,
Bought by the duck in a truck for a buck by the docks
Where witches make wishes, of which there are three
One wonders, two wander, but which one are thee?

Seashell selling Sally and pepper picking Peter 
Then postulated how preposterous were the nauseous people eaters
Whose purple pales are full of quintessential quantities 
Quietly questioning carefully the existential quandaries
Of buck-riding ducks driving trucks by the docks 
With a box of a fox wearing socks made with locks
Who is literally elated over Luscious Lake
Where lucky duck Luke likes to lick lemon cake,
While eleven benevolent elephants and three blind mice
Might magically master their moves skating on the ice.

Thus this terrific travesty of a terribly twisted tongue twister
Seashell selling Sally sought to share with her sickly-sister 
While the pepper picking piper, Peter, perpetuated his preposterous plan
To provide the purple people eaters with a conundrum of a can.
Can they can as many cans as a can canner could?
Or what of the wood chucking woodchuck should it chuck any wood?
And the purple people eaters ate no purple people that day
Because Sally's sickly sister this tongue twister couldn't say.
And the benevolent elephants and blind mice three
And the licking duck Luke were all laid to rest by the sea.
8/7/16
This is what happens when I stay up til 2 am to write.
1.2k · Jul 2016
Opening up
J B Moore Jul 2016
I've never been good at opening up
In fact only one has ever really gotten me to
But she's no longer here, she has gone away
Leaving me behind to feel so afraid.

I'm a thinker in mind and a writer at heart
A lover and a fighter which can tear me apart
I'll fight for the one I love, I'll never let her go
If I could just find her so she could just know.

I don't like opening up, in fact it's very hard
I start to get defensive, I want to run far,
I feel a little barbaric like a rampant ape,
Who only wants to have the chance of a great escape.

If I do open up I'm afraid of what you'll find.
It's a mysterious place, this thing we call my mind,
Filled with a wild and crazy imagination,
Bizzarre concoctions of my own creation.

I do love creating a world of my own,
Where I can make everyone happy and never be alone.
But this can never happen, at least not in this life,
Just look around at all the people suffering in strife.

I want to help them, the mute crying out,
"I can hear you" I want to say but then I find doubt,
What if they don't want me, what if I'm no good,
I feel the want to help, now if only I would.

But that would require something from me I don't possess,
A great self-confidence especially when under stress.
I have found that under pressure I can work well,
Though not until it's over can I ever really tell.

The problem I have with letting others look inside,
Is that I've gotten so good at wanting to hide
I've fooled myself into thinking I'm strange
And fearing every attempt I make at change.

Oh and change is deffinitely by far the worst
It is the thing which I was afraid of first.
But of course I know the strengths that come from it
Then again, if it was that simple I'd have already done it.

I guess the problem with opening up, 
with saying who I am,
Is what if they don't like me?
What if they don't want to understand?

I can be so confusing, I barely know myself,
I sometimes have to ask someone else for help,
Of course that's not my choice but only when they ask 
And only ever then do I dare take off my mask.

Maybe that's the missing link I've been looking for,
Maybe that's the key to opening my door.
 A key that I can never turn by myself,
Maybe the door will only open if opened by someone else.

8/22/14
1.2k · Jan 2016
Dreams of Eloquence
J B Moore Jan 2016
I can write wonderful words of eloquence
Describing in detailed elegance 
the pictures in my mind.

But when it comes to speaking aloud,
Especially in front of the smallest crowd
There are no words to find.

That's why I pick up my pen to write,
To let all of my dreams take flight 
And go explore the worlds.

Then perhaps while they explore 
They'll listen to my heart as it implores,
"Find me that perfect girl."

Off soar my dreams with the stroke of the pen
To search for the girl that my heart seeks within
To find only a broken blue heart.

So they search for and gather some of the pieces,
For the ones they can't find, their sorrow increases
Their eloquence falling apart.

With what small courage I had, my heart tries to speak
But it fumbles and falls, and feels like a freak
Our weakness fully revealed

Yet touching my heart, she helps it to stand
My own broken pieces enclosed in her hand
And nothing left to conceal.

The rest, you could say, will be history
But 'til then it will stay a mystery
I can't wait to be told

For now my dreams are straining more,
While I just sit here waiting for
My story to unfold.

1/30/16 12:01am
1.2k · Nov 2016
Crazy Conundrums
J B Moore Nov 2016
This crazy conundrum has been conspicuously contrived quite cordially. Of course, one could concede this cordially contrived conundrum could carelessly conflate the countless quandaries causing quintessential quantities to question the conspicuously questionable conspiracy. Conversely, carelessly questioning conspicuously contrived conspiracies as cordially quantitative quandaries could create considerably confusing claims countering the critically acclaimed crazy conundrum so callously clarified as to continue to count as cordial. Consequently, with careless acquiescence, I must confess that the conceptually contrived conspiracy, so inconspicuously inconsistent, conflated considerably contrary quandaries quite questionably and continues to confuse the crazy quite cordially. To conclude, the crazed conspicuous conundrum confuses the cordially questionable quantities of conceptually countless claims clearly clarified as conflated quandaries continuously contradicting a considerable count of conspiracies.

11/2/16 11:59 p
Just a little fun with alliteration and nonsense
1.2k · May 2016
Farewell
J B Moore May 2016
It's short
it's sweet
It's the perfect treat

For our last goodbye 
I'm not going to lie
I really hope you don't die

Growing up we had our fair share of fights
With flying slippers 
...and that broken swiffer
But I think we turned out all right

You're not the strongest nor the smartest
Though you're much stronger than me.
And I know you'll fight the hardest
When you're fighting for our right to be free

It is said there is a friend unlike any other
One that sticks closer than a brother

Perhaps some day this will be true
But I think it's almost impossible to do
Cause I have to say, 
to my brother born in May,
I've never had a closer friend than you.

So here's farewell, not goodbye
There is only do, never try
Stay strong, don't die
And of course, semper fi

5/20/16
For my brother, who got a last minute call to go to Paris Island sooner than expected
1.0k · Feb 2016
The Conundrum
J B Moore Feb 2016
Am I crazy or is it true,
Does the world reject the new?
       And can a beautiful lie
             Begin to rectify
   The deception of the truth?
1.0k · Oct 2018
I Almost Wrote You a Poem
J B Moore Oct 2018
I almost wrote you a poem
Except for the unfortunate fact
I’m hesitant about how I feel,
And all the information that I lack.

I don’t know what fills your dreams
Or what monsters fuel your fears.
What sweet joys make your smile beam?
What fills your eyes with tears?

Do you cry for the small injustices?
Do you smile for a beautiful song?
Do you paint broad strokes with small brushes?
And speak without fear of being wrong?

I almost wrote you a poem
Except I just don’t understand,
I barely even know you,
This is not what I had planned.

I never thought I’d feel this spark
Before I got to know your heart.
Never thought I’d have this crush
Yet your thought can make me blush.

You’re beautiful and surely kind
Talented and most devine,
I know this and not much else
I see you and my heart swells.

Even with all the knowledge
This would still be true:
There is no beauty in this world
That could accurately compare to you.

I almost wrote you a poem
And perhaps I already have.
One day we may look back on this
And have ourselves a laugh.

10/21/18
1:31 am
1.0k · Nov 2016
All Hallows' Eve
J B Moore Nov 2016
Tonight is the night, be it All Hallows' Eve
One filled with fright most refuse to believe,
For deep amongst the shadows, silently lurking,
'Tis a terrifying creature, his jagged teeth smirking.

Thou hast all heard of demons, and hast battled thine ghouls
Whilst this terrible beast watcheth with hunger and drools.
It's spittle, like acid, can burn through thine flesh
Making thee so much easier to digest.

No name shalt be found for a creature so foul
That gobbles up goblins, and ogres disembowels.
Dost thou think that thine lanterns shall frighten it hence?
Oh foolish man, it shall consume the light thence.

It standeth hunched over, twelve feet in height;
Stalking thou, watching thou, waiting for night.
It cometh from deep within the forest, as the moon wanes
His fur smelleth of death, his claws favouring pain.

He shan't be stopped ere his hunt is over
Yet he only hunts the thirty-first of October
Take ye heed, then, and hear the warning of the raven
For this beast is coming, and from him there is but one haven.

He preyeth upon the weakest, and the one full of fear
So stand fast, take courage and in another likeness appear
Put on a mask, as treacherous as can be
Conceal what layeth within, do not let him see

Or else you shall be taken, beaten and devoured
For this beast prefers to torture just to see thee cower.
So please, take heed to this warning and believe;
Thou art only safe if thee wearest a mask on All Hallows' Eve.

11/3/16
1.0k · Jul 2016
Forgetfully forgotten
J B Moore Jul 2016
Never forget the forgetfully forgotten
Just to beget the regretfully begotten.
For then you might simply be awfully rotten, 
Or you might even do what you woefully fought and 
Then this would be for naught
I feel like this should be longer but it's a tricky pattern to recreate. Feel free to comment suggestions and I'll add 'em if I like them.
997 · Nov 2015
Ponder this
J B Moore Nov 2015
People plan to partake in 
pondering this painful piece
of the Ponderer's ponderings.

These pathetic pain filled people
presume that
pondering the Ponderer's ponderings
is perfectly practical in practically every peaceful way.

But presently,
the Ponderer's particularly pondering ponderings
are perniciously precarious in every perilous way.

Thus, to ponder the Ponderer's pondering ponderings
is not particularly practical,
but instead pertain
to perniciously painful parts of precarious nature
981 · Nov 2015
Fade into Dreams
J B Moore Nov 2015
None of it feels real but rather surreal 
as my memories fade into dreams.
The future becomes the present and the present past,
As my memories fade into dreams

I feel lost in a fog, dazed and confused
Confused how I woke up feeling so bruised
I've lost all feeling in my past it would seem
As my past becomes a memory that fades to a dream.

Now that I'm awake it's hard to recall
Standing with caution, afraid I might fall.
Dreams fade into memories that can't be kept,
Memories of dreams, dreams that long to resurrect.

Resurrect from within, a life full of gladness.
Putting to death my sorrows and sadness.
I start to recover from the battle lost
My memories fading like dreams, is the cost.

For shortly after waking, dreams fade away.
In the same manner my memories won't stay. 
I fight to remember, I struggle to hold on
But lo, quick approaching is a burning new dawn.

And with every new coming dawn
Are my thoughts left wandering on,
Warm sun light so brightly gleaming,
My memories quickly fading as I awake from dreaming.
11/27/13
965 · Apr 2016
Diving Deeper
J B Moore Apr 2016
With a leap of faith, you take the plunge deeper
Into your sea of fears, trying to out-swim The Sleeper
4/22/16
*see 'The Sleeper'
915 · Sep 2016
Purpose for the pain
J B Moore Sep 2016
There is a method to the madness, a puprose for the pain
We may not see it now, or even next year
But somewhere down the line, there will come a time
In which we get to reflect, with retrospect,
On the pain that taught us and brought us here
And it will be worth all the tears that fell like rain.
8/31/16
903 · Dec 2015
Running to Find Me
J B Moore Dec 2015
Fear.

Has picked up my trail
Is looking to find me.

Fear.*

He's right on my tail
He's coming to bind me.

I run through the night
I'm looking behind me.
With no one in sight
I'm running to find me.

Where would I go?
How would I get there?
Will I ever come back?
Would anyone care?

I'm outrunning fear
Running to find me
Who will come near
And help me come find me.

Out of nowhere it strikes me
I fall to the ground
Out of nowhere it fights me 
From pain do I drown

Away from the pain
I go and I swim
But what will I gain 
If I actually win.

I'm running away 
But there's something I lack
I know I can't stay
But do I have to go back?

8/3/13
899 · Nov 2015
Love Like a Dream
J B Moore Nov 2015
When I heard how she felt I couldn't stop from grinning,
But everyone told us from the very beginning,
"You're too young, this is wrong,
You won't last that long."

But we swore to them and to each other
We would be different, we would be better
It would always be the two of us,
Both of us together.

Still, we felt the pressure wherever we'd go,
Making it harder not to one day hear "I told you so."
We tried so hard to do our best,
And prayed that God would take care of the rest.

But it seemed we were never told we did anything right,
Only scolded when we did something wrong,
Keeping us awake, worried late at night, 
Afraid of thinking we wouldn't last long.

And although it wasn't true, at the time that's how it seemed,
Just me and her against the world, with a love like a dream.
Nevertheless, every dream must come to an end
Only this time, the cost would be losing a friend.

For just like in a dream, you don't know you are dreaming
You just look at the blue sky and the sun beams, beaming
Making me feel so alive, with her hand in mine.
With no recollection of the passing time.

But in reality a storm cloud was coming
And everyone headed to the hills running,
All the while we thought we were smart and cunning
To weather the storm so stunning
And finally be free from the looks of the world scared running.

We were happy and alone when it started to rain,
Until the rain brought the pain and it started to pour,
And so we swore to each other that we would endure.
But as the wind started blowing and the sun began to set,
We had to see just how far we could get.
Had I only known that the dream was near the end
I wonder if I would've found a way to keep my friend.

And as it goes when waking up from a dream,
You find that nothing was ever as it seemed.
Just as the downpours turn to steady rain, turns to infrequent showers,
And the sunrise reflects off water dripping off every flower,
So the memories of a fading dream dissolve with every passing hour.
For when love is like a dream, you'll always close your eyes 
Only to have them open to the most deplorable surprise.

12/11/14
857 · Nov 2015
Sonnet of a Man Born Blind
J B Moore Nov 2015
I have often heard the sky is blue and how the grass is green,
But I haven't got the slightest clue as to what that's supposed to mean,
No, I've only heard the stories of a sun shining bright.
You see, I was born into the dark, never to know the light.

I know birds by their songs and trees by their shade.
My fingers run for miles on hills artificially made,
Painting pictures in my mind of things I never knew,
Looking for some insight, searching for the truth. 

I have smelled the color purple, I have heard the color blue!
I have tasted green and yellow, and the combination of the two!
I can feel the color orange like the warm late summer breeze,
And the pale blue of the waters in winter when they freeze.

But all I see are the missing trees and those who make no sound,
Ghosts of my own making, look at what they're taking, never to be found.
841 · Jun 2016
Overcome
J B Moore Jun 2016
Every time I finally start to overcome 
And from my feelings find the strength to run;
There, around the corner, are my memories waiting,
And I suddenly begin to realize that my strength is quickly fading.

It doesn't seem to ever long enough last.
I never seem to truly overcome my past.
It haunts me in my dreams whether I'm asleep or awake.
It knocks me down and beats me till once again I break.

I try so hard, I really do,
I try my best to look forward to
Every good thing that will come from this pain,
And every little gift I'll in the end gain.

I know that everything has happened for a reason,
I only wonder at what time or in which season?
When will the past at last be behind me?
What must I do to find you to come find me?

How long will it take, I've truly begun to wonder,
When I no long hear this passing thunder;
The clash-clanging reminder of that which has been,
To finally see the sun along with a newly best friend?

Again I say my best is being done,
To this drenching pain at last overcome.
Yes I'm doing my best to weather the storm
Still it's leaving me feeling so battered and worn.

8/21/14 10:46 p
840 · Jan 2016
The Blessing of Tomorrow
J B Moore Jan 2016
After all those sunny days, this one seemed so dark,
With tear drops falling as you were falling apart.

Depression nipping at your heels, sewing seeds of doubt.
Those memories calling as you were calling out. 

"Help me, please help me!" But you were all alone.
Then a memory appeared and back in time you were thrown.

It's not about the memories, it's not about the dreams;
It's realizing that everything was never as it seemed.

You take a trip down memory lane
To a time where you didn't know any pain.

You were young and full of joy and laughter
Dreaming of stories ending happily ever after,

Where you were the good guy, even an ace,
Putting the villains into their place.

But it's not about the glory, it's not about the fame;
It's realizing that everyone may never know your name.

You're back from the trip, the memory's gone
Back in the place you guess you belong.

The pain's still overwhelming, and sorrow too intense,
You're trying to find a reason, but nothing's making sense.

Then you begin to remember something you were once told
A lesson from your father and the stories from of old.

See it's not about the pain, it's not about the sorrow;
It's realizing the gift of life and the blessing of tomorrow.

11/19/14
796 · May 2016
For the Parents
J B Moore May 2016
Prom is for the parents
Nothing less, nothing more
It seems to me quite apparent 
As they drag me to the store.

Sure, girls all have fun
As they shop in search for the perfect dress
But until that is done
It seems to me they're only filled with stress

Prom is for the parents
I have to say
But when it's time to make a purchase
It is we who are left to pay

The tickets cost an arm and a leg 
And the clothes our hands and feet
Before this is over we'll have to beg
And will wake up the next day on the street.

Prom is for the parents
They just love to take our picture
It would come as no surprise
If they went as far as to get a fixture.

But then comes that time
We've been waiting for all year
The night I call you mine
And get to hold you so near.

And although I don't know how
For you I'll give it a chance
When better to learn than now
Yes, I think I'll like to dance.

So prom is for the parents
If only at the start
But if I get to hold you close
Then Prom is for the Heart

4/23/12
Something silly I wrote before my senior prom to help with the nerves.
762 · Nov 2015
The Music Box
J B Moore Nov 2015
A broken heart and shattered dreams
Left this man wandering,

Trudging through the ice, left out in the cold,
Having just lost the only one he loved to hold.

Tears fell from his face like pouring rain
But he knew he was the one to blame.

He held on to the one thing he still had
An old music box he opened when sad.

In it were peices of his heart and shattered dreams,
Mixed with broken memories of beautiful things.

In the midst of a storm, while his fire still burned,
He kept the box close and would to it often return.

Opening it up when he'd begin to forget
He'd use the old dreams to keep the fire lit.

He looked at a picture from the very beginning,
In which they were both from ear to ear grinning.

With an oversized shirt and his arm around her shoulder,
Compared to then, he felt so much older.

Pictures like these reminded him of being home
At a time when he never had to think of being alone.

With so many to look at, his fire would burn a while,
The smoke made him cry, though his face showed a smile.

With no pictures left he moved on to the songs,
When everything was right before it went wrong.

Their first dance seemed to last a thousand years,
What he would have given for a hundred more with her near.

By the everglow from the candlelight,
He couldn't help but think he must've done something right.

He always thought that this was the best thing,
Until that night he found himself awakening.

On the brink of disaster, falling asleep at the wheel
Having paid too much mind on how she made him feel.

When a twist in his story came out of nowhere
And he was forced to live out his own worst nightmare.

And overnight he was expected to suddenly move on
For it took just one fight before she was gone. 

He did his best to find peace,
But he could only do so in his sleep.

'Don't wake me,' he thought, 'From my favorite dream,
It seems I'm forever and always awakening.'

'Suppose I reached out, and with my thumb wiped your tears
And suppose this fight just magically disappeared

'Could it help bring you home, would it be worth the try,
Or is it all just one foolishly stupid lie.'

So caught up in not wanting to become a stranger,
He put his friendship in very real danger.

He didn't want to love somebody else
But there was nothing left to remind himself.

As the last song played it danced away
Their memories fading, not able to stay.

Looking into the box there was left one thing,
And it would have the most memories to bring.

Last, was their story, from when they first became friends,
Which they spoke of a lot but only wrote now and then.

It had helped them to grow into what they'd become,
Built on friendship, laughter, and a whole lot of fun.

It still wasn't finished when they had got in that fight
But even now, once in a while, he still liked to write.

With so many memories, the fired Would burn on,
Unitl finally light reached him from the coming new dawn.

He sat in the cold, with no more tears left to cry,
No longer afraid that alone he would die.

And with no more memories left to remember 
He set down the box and put out the embers.

He had nothing left now, it was time to move on
A new day was here, it was already dawn.

By the strength from the sun, he left behind his sorrows,
Sick of searching for hope in a better tomorrow.

For tomorrow is always coming, and there it will stay
So instead, choose to find hope in the here and now of today.

That's what he did and that's what he does
Until today becomes the day he truly falls in love.

Never will he see that music box again
But the memories will return, now and then.

They will be sweet ones of things long past
While he sits in the arms of a love that will last.

4/19/14
754 · Nov 2015
Wretched Soul
J B Moore Nov 2015
I once was a man, so full of pride
Behind my timidity would I hide
I thought my deeds were like shimmering gold 
When in truth, no value did they really hold.

So good was I at being good
I began to believe that no one could,
Even if they really did try,
Yes no one would catch me in this lie.

I got so good, I thought I believed
When really I merely myself deceived 
I was in so deep I never even knew
That all was a lie, I thought to be true.

I joined the ranks, under His command,
On the side of the King I took my stand.
But never did I fool the Sovereign King
Who knows all, sees all, everything.

Even still being the traitor that I was,
I faught for the King because, because.
Because I thought I could make my place
Within his Castle, if I stayed an ace. 

Had I only known that enter did no one
Unless the King had specifically chose them.
For no matter the battles that I could "win"
Only those called, would ever get in.

But then one night, lo that awful night,
Was a battle in which alone I did fight.
It was upon me so quick, off my guard being caught.
She went for my sword, from my hands was it wrought.

I tried crying out but quickly went silent
The sin conlvulsing within, becoming so violent.
I begged and I cheated my way out of death
Giving in to Temptation, who stole my breath.

She never would let me on my own breathe
Having taken my breath, I never could leave.
But she'd give it back so I could live normal days
Yet every night once again would she take it away.

Though not my own, I found a well,
Reaching deep within for a drink, I fell.
Having been so thirsty, I was quickly consumed
If I only knew, those who drank were forever doomed.

If I had only known the poison Temptation gave me, 
I would have gladly died if it meant I'd be free.
The sin grew within making me lose control
Still, I gladly drank the poison that was killing my soul.

This continued on for a time too long;
And I still couldn't see that I was in the wrong.
No matter how fatal I knew the poison to be,
I just wouldn't stop, even if it were the death of me.

Then one night, while in Temptation consumed,
There came a light with a crack and a boom.
And there stood a messenger from the King himself,
His garments displaying the King's great wealth.

"Sad tidings for you do I now bring,
A message straight from the King.
A message to you of consequence,
One that will cause your burning ears to ring.

"The King is aware of your heinous crimes
He warns you of the coming times
Where his judgement will rain down on you,
And you will feel you've lost your mind.

"He knows about you and Temptation,
And how you desire her awful sensations.
But you think that you of all are perfect 
Not needing any salvation.

"Oh how you error in your ways
When you should be counting the days,
Until the debt you have incurred 
Is a debt you will soon pay."

I looked at him and openly scoffed
When I knew inside that I had naught,
Nothing at all with which to pay,
To my silence he then had this to say.

"The King is generous which is why I was sent
To make sure his gift wasn't carelessly spent.
You must pay it all back, everything
Down to the very last cent.

"If not, to you a curse shall ensue
In the midst of a battle, the world verses you
On that dark and damning day 
You will have no choice but to pay your due.

"For there will fall your wretched soul,
Into the deepest, darkest hole
The consequences of your crimes
Having finally taken their toll.

"And there you'll fall forevermore 
Never knowing what's in store
And all the wretched deeds you loved
You'll now at last abhor

"For so long you wore a mask of light
And even fought their same fight
Yet all this time underneath your skin
Your heart was darker than blackest night.

"If just one had been able to tell,
Who you were, yet there you fell
Falling closer than you ever knew
Toward the tormenting, firery, flames of Hell."

"Enough, that's it, no more," cried I
"I can take no more or else I'll die
There must be something I can do
Anything that could make me new."

"Have you not listened to what I said?
Or do you have too thick a head
You cannot do a thing at all,
Your soul, forever has been dead."

"Please tell me who," I did reply
"Can save me from my very lies.
Who can bring dead back alive 
And my useless soul, who can revive?"

"There is one man, who completely paid
The price it cost and was not afraid
For on a cross he did die,
For the sinners lost, his life he laid.

In the grave he spent three full days,
Yet in the grave he would not stay 
The King having given him the power
To conquer death in every way.

Only through repentance and belief upon the Son
Can ever your battles against sin be won.
For through Christ and his saving power
Has all the work been done."

Before the messenger made those words his last
Before he was suddenly gone with a flash
He said this to me "Be warned,
When between right and wrong you are torn."

As you sin you twist the jagged knife
That drains away your lover's life
As you stare at them through tear filled eyes 
Think, 'was it really worth this price.'"

With that he was completely gone
Come to find out it was already dawn.
For once, I felt refreshed and renewed 
And the sin that I did began to feel crude.

At last I thought I was truly free
But Temptation still had her chains on me
Only now, she had loosened her grip
Letting me over my own stumbling blocks trip.

I then fell in love with a girl who changed my life
So much so I wanted her to be my wife.
Yet Temptations chains held me back,
It was strength— or was it faith— that I lacked.

Then came the night for which I was doomed,
Whilst in Temptation completely consumed
I plunged my sword into her back
My love had died, my soul stained black

What I wanted to be one, was forever in two,
The Messenger's warning now coming true.
I had loved her dearly, or so I thought,
But in the end it was all for naught.

So there I was more broken then before
Having lost everything to still lose more.
For I had believed I had been made new
Only to find that to be far from true.

And for the very first time
I realized I was quite blind
To still be living a life with Temptation,
Was the very proof of my lack of salvation.

Then I went and bowed before the King
Giving him much thanks for everything
For the loss of a love and for the pain
And the resulting salvation that I gained.

And as the King would so decree
I repented, believed, and became quite free.
The King and his army defeated Temptation 
And I joined His ranks through a watery declaration.

As time went on, I still have found I sometimes would fall
But I wasn't alone, to the King I could call.
And he will always help me up by lending a hand 
And lets me lean on Him when I need help to stand.

For so long as I lean on him in the midst of my trials
And keep repenting of sin which I now find so vile,
He will give me the strength, the strength to carry on,
And show me the way with each new coming dawn.

I once was a man with a wretched soul,
Who was saved by grace and remade whole,
Not by any deed I could do on my own
But by faith in the perfect work of Christ alone.
Warning: this is a long one
745 · Apr 2016
Shackles
J B Moore Apr 2016
I'm bound by the hands, chains crushing my heart;
I can't bare to stand, so I just fall apart.

I'm trapped inside, I can't get out
"Somebody help me! Please help me," I shout.

But nobody's there, no one can hear;
I'm filled with despair as I face my greatest fear.
4/22/16
736 · Jan 2016
Never Let Go
J B Moore Jan 2016
When you find a love worth more than gold,
That special girl, to have and to hold.
With all of your heart, love her so.
Awlays hold her tight, never let go.
730 · May 2016
Too Long
J B Moore May 2016
I lied every time I said I'd never leave 
Then again so did she
But now she's happier without me
And I'm still struggling to find a reason.
A reason to live, a reason to smile,
A reason to find hope for at least a short while.

But her love for me has died, 
my hope dying with it.
And believe me I have tried,
To take life and just live it.

Yet how can I without any hope
See without her I just can't cope.
I tried to move on but to no avail, 
Can't make it to shore without wind in the sail.

Now I'm stranded at sea
 alone and in pain
While she trades her love for me
With a feeling of disdain.

I wish I could go back, 
I wish I could change,
Change all the facts
Before becoming estranged.

I'm separated from life 
With nowhere to go.
Suffering in strife 
If she could just know.

But I know there's not a chance 
In changing her mind 
I can try to make recompense 
But I'll just waste my time.

So time I do waste,
Since there's nothing else I can do
But I must make haste
As she's already found someone new.

Yet I don't even know if that's the case
None of it could be real, it could all be lies,
This all started with a rumor in the first place
To come across another should be no surprise.

How shall I keep living everyday like I'm uncertain
Of what I will find sitting behind the curtain
It will never be pleasant only full of pain,
I can't see any way out where I get to gain.

Will I ever find out, will I ever move on
Or will I continue to find doubt in each new coming dawn?
For though sunrise is so beautiful it just reminds me about her
No, I think I'll keep on holding, yes of that I'm pretty sure.

I will remain loyal to her when to me she is not
And remember all the times she has so easily forgot.
Why does the "right thing" seem to be so wrong?
By the time I change my mind will it have been too long?

5/26/14
730 · Sep 2016
Licesne to Write
J B Moore Sep 2016
The pen is mightier than the sword  
Or so they like to say
Trapping a man tight with cord  
So he can't get away
Look how easy they cut to the quick  
With rumors spread so thick
They stick to each and every day

Don't speak, don't speak, don't speak to me.
Your "facts" are just opinions you claim to be free.
Free from logic, free from rhyme,
As free as the rhythm of the passing time.

Riots are just fires we start by the spark of the tongue
Set ablaze within the maze of the minds of our young.
The media's a shooter, an impressionable youth their gun
Pointing them at the political process and pulling the trigger just for fun.

"I'm not listening because you're a bigot and a racist,
Just leave me to the feel good lies of my safe spaces.
Sticks and stones can't break my bones, but words were meant to hurt me."
There's only one way in which we can stop them thinking so perversely.

It's plain to see what the solution should be
A permit to permit the diversity of thought
For how dare any of us think differently
This is the only ammunition against chaos we've got.

You'll have to petition for acquisition of the God given right,
One of the greatest things for which our forefathers would fight,
Let's start acting like enacting laws is our only choice
Before our "precious feelings" get drowned out in the noise.

This permit will outlaw protesting in peace,
Since most protests today end with riots in the streets.
And don't for a second think your voices will be heard,
Because the government will control your every word.

All this because you can't handle hearing truth
Or wouldn't let them at least share their proof.
But to see you listen to reason, and through controversy peacefully endure
Would be like seeing a criminal obey the law, or a dictator feeding the poor.

The first amendment protects our diversity of thought,
And that's by far the most important diversity we've got.

9/27/16
696 · May 2017
Nostalgia
J B Moore May 2017
It tastes like blue raspberry cool-aid,
After a summer day full of fun,
And smells like freshly cut grass
Or sunscreen before a day in the sun.

It feels like the cold air in your lungs
As you play in freshly fallen snow
And sounds like Christmas caroling,
In case you didn't know.

It's the smell of the air before it rains
Or the calm before the storm.
It's the thunder in the distance
Or a cool breeze after it's been so warm.

It's pumpkin scented candles,
And brightly colored leaves
Its football on thanksgiving
And apples picked right from the trees

It's the taste of the salt in the air
And the cool of the mist from the sea
In case you ever had to ask
That's what nostalgia is to me

5/19/17
691 · Mar 2016
If I Nearly Died
J B Moore Mar 2016
If I were to get hurt
If I nearly died
Would you stop what you're doing
Just to be by my side?

Or would you live like I didn't exist
As if you didn't even know
Carrying on with your life
Not a feeling for me to show?

Would you not shed a tear
Nor let me hold you near
And instead walk away
Like it were any other day?

If I were to get sick,
If I nearly died
Would you not find yourself 
Right there by my side?

If anything at all
But to tell me at least,
That you liked me as tall,
That I was one handsome beast?

If I nearly died 
and just layed there in bed
Would you stay by my side
With sweet words to be said?

Would you give me your hand
That I'd have something to hold
Would you show me your smile
So I wouldn't feel so cold?

Even if I were to eventually get better 
And after, we still went our own ways 
At least I could live life knowing 
That you came to me in those days

For if you were to get sick 
If you nearly died
I would make sure to find out
And then rush to your side.

I would give you my hand
So that you'd have something to hold
I'd wrap my arms around you
So that you wouldn't be cold.

For if you really nearly did die
I'd thank God that you were still alive
And oh so many tears I would cry
From joy in knowing that you'd survive.

I hope this never happens to you
Though perhaps maybe to me
Because that might be the only way
That your beautiful smile I'll get to see.

If I were to get hurt,
If I was about to die,
Would you tell me you love me?
Or would that just be a lie...

11/6/13
686 · Nov 2015
I Wonder
J B Moore Nov 2015
Forever have I promised
To from you never sunder
And though this promise I will keep
I have begun to wonder.

I wonder just what it'd be like
If for all my life I hold your hand, 
For all my life could be a long time
I wonder if that you could even stand.

If I hold your hand past "down to the wire"
Through the sniffles and the cough
Would my hand begin to tire,
Could it possibly fall off?

Even if my hand could get dismembered
I'd hold you nice and snug
For this you should remember
If I lose my hand I'll give you an eternal hug.

But then I begin to wonder
If I hold you close for eternity
Would our heart beats sound like thunder
Would we manage to keep on standing.

Yet even if our legs turn to jelly
And like pudding become our thighs
Nothing will stop me from saying "Hello Beautiful,"
Nor from looking into your eyes.

And this I know about my eyes,
They could never become weary
If all they saw was beautiful you,
Yet I know they may get teary.

But there's one thing I'll always wonder,
How could I be so blessed to have you,
And even though I often blunder
I know your love will always stay true.

7/20/12
665 · Feb 2016
The Same Old Place
J B Moore Feb 2016
When we've gone astray on distant shores,
          Our loved ones lost, our hearts ignored,
                 When our fears put us to chase. 
              Sometimes we want nothing more
               Than to visit that same old place.

2/15/16
639 · Dec 2015
Overcome the Outcome
J B Moore Dec 2015
It's that time of year
So I guess I should confess,
Twelve months ago my greatest fear
Put me under great duress.

I started living my worst nightmare
In every single way
And learned to cope instead of hope
In waking up someday.

Still I've overcome the outcome 
Of being too depressed
By holding on to being wrong,
It wasn't love I guess.

But it's that time of year again
To curse my memories and dreams,
For a year ago I lost my friend
Who has yet to be seen.

I couldn't live without her,
But I haven't died yet,
I've come so far; as to what we are,
well, it's best if I just forget.

For I've overcome the outcome
Of being friends at best,
By holding on to being wrong,
 We were doomed to end, I guess.

So happy anniversary
For the worst day of my world
A time of great adversity
When I lost that perfect girl.

I thought my life was over
I thought that hope was gone
It blew my mind, I couldn't find
A reason to move on.

Still I've overcome the outcome 
Of losing too much rest
By holding on to being wrong,
Well, at least I try my best.

10/10/14
614 · Nov 2015
The Old Tower Bell
J B Moore Nov 2015
Listen to the slow steady gong of the death knell
From down the street at the old clock tower
The tell tale tolling of the old tower bell.

In the square, no one dares approach that well,
Where sick beat the quick, and sweet turns sour,
Listen to the slow steady gong of the death knell.

Sinking into the hearts a fear no one can quell,
Making the strong weak, causing brave men to cower,
The tell tale tolling of the old tower bell.

The streets are abandoned as dark spirits swell,
Beseting the village, all light they've devoured,
Listen to the slow steady gong of the death knell.

The people were running, scared as they fell
Yet, amidst all the chaos, marking the hour
Was the tell tale tolling of the old tower bell.

Dark and deserted, there the demons will dwell
Betwixt the spirits and shadows with chaotic power.
Listen to the slow steady gong of the death knell,
The tell tale tolling of the old tower bell.

10.21.15 11:16pm
My first attempt at a villanelle
607 · Mar 2016
Sleeping At Last
J B Moore Mar 2016
Dear True Love,

It seems like forever since I've heard you speak
For so long the current of life has kept you out of reach
So before I finally close my eyes to sleep
I thought I'd share a secret that no one should ever keep

Death is a promise and life's a gift
Upon each one is placed such Emphasis
Like a current pulling us further from the shore
We simply long for the way things were before

Now here you are, you are next to me,
Our pain reflects our broken memory.
Since we can fix it all with scissors and glue,
Let us rearrange the old and call it brand new.

Life is a broken and beautiful gift
And each day is either a Hit or Miss
But they Say the truest of forms will show
The truth in your soul you're just dying to know.

Every sunrise and sunset marks a Turning Page
Sand passing in an Hourglass as we slowly age.
We were given a little time, all I want is a little more;
A chance to redefine, and see what I've been waiting for.

Death is a cold, blindfolded kiss
Once more, there's placed such emphasis,
If you listen just right you can hear my Ghost crying, 
I'm still trying to decide if I'm living or if I'm dying.

Oh, My One True Love, 

Like Clockwork we must all come to an end;
I'm so glad I got to call you my best friend.
Nothing made me stronger than your fragile heart
But lo, the time is coming when we must finally part.

I am helpless, like a moth to the flame
The darkness is consuming, but I can feel no pain,
The last grain of sand passes through my hourglass,
And then I'm sleeping, Sleeping At Last

3/31/16
Inspired by the many songs of the artist Sleeping At Last
602 · Jun 2016
Even though I know
J B Moore Jun 2016
I've found hope in a far off dream
So distantly impossible it does seem.
Others think I'm a fool to believe 
Even though I know they think I know not.

This dream is the thing for which I reach
Even though I know I'm unlikely to succeed
Others they think I'm going insane
Even though I know they know not.

They tell me give up, they say to move on
Find another purpose, write a different song.
They don't understand, they can't comprehend 
Even though I know they don't know it's all I've got.

I ignore what they say, I choose to press on
But my heart starts to feel like it's wandering on.
I say I'm ok, that there will be hope for one day,
Even though I know they know I have not.

Not sure where I'm going, I hold on to where I've been
As if I have some sort of direction, I try to pretend.
Without this dream I have nowhere to go
Even though I know they know that I'm lost.

1/19/14
598 · Jul 2016
A Man Born Blind
J B Moore Jul 2016
I have often heard the sky is blue and how the grass is green,
But I haven't got the slightest clue as to what that's supposed to mean,
No, I've only heard the stories of a sun shining bright.
You see, I was born into the dark, never to know the light.

I know birds by their songs and trees by their shade.
My fingers run for miles on hills artificially made,
Painting pictures in my mind of things I never knew,
Looking for some insight, searching for the truth. 

But all I see are the missing trees and those who make no sound,
Ghosts of my own making, look at what they're taking, never to be found.
For insight is like hindsight, both are looking with the mind
So spare the lies, don't try to empathize with a man born blind.

I have smelled the color purple, I have heard the color blue!
I have tasted green and yellow, and the combination of the two!
I can feel the color orange like the warm late summer breeze,
And the pale blue of the waters in winter when they freeze.

To walk by faith and not by sight is so much easier for me,
For I once was lost, but now I'm found! Am blind, but now I see!

8/7/15
The original poem before I turned it into a sonnet in Sonnet of a Man Botn blind
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