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J B Moore Jun 2016
I will always love you until the day I die.
And this so often makes me cry,
That even with this love we can't stay together,
Still, that will never stop me from loving you forever

12/11/13
J B Moore Dec 2015
It seems like time
Will forever last
In this near perfect world,
Where I have no past.

I never hunger,
I never thirst,
I never wonder
What comes first.

I am not standing
Nor do I sit.
Maybe I'm floating, 
Yes, perhaps that's it.

It seems like time
Will forever last 
In this near perfect world
I've naught more to ask

It's warm here,
And my room is small
Every time I stretch 
I bump into the wall

There's a soft glow 
There's a warm light
I hear a small drum beat
Saying everything's all right.

The room it shrinks
Either that or I grow,
Time starts to reveal
What I don't know.

It seems like time
Will not forever last
In this near perfect world
The end is coming fast

Suddenly there is a change
And I'm feeling very strange
I think there's a type of claw
I can only stare in awe.

It grabs my arm, I feel the pain
My bones sound a crack like a horses reign

I cry out in silence, Can anyone hear?
Slowly I slip away into the abyss of fear.

I can't bear it as the pain carries on
Why in the world is this allowed by my mom?

What did I do? Why doesn't she fight?
I guess it's too late to know
Why ****** has become my birthright.

1/4/13 12:21 am
Life is a beautiful thing, to destroy one before it even begins... I can't think of something more appalling than that.
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
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.
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
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
J B Moore May 2016
One day, my dear, we will fall in love again.
Someday, my love, we will soon be friends.
And I'll wait and I'll wait, until that day
When one day becomes today, that's what I pray.
For when someday becomes today, I'll be ready,
On the day I wrap my arms around you just to keep me steady.
Someday, my dear, just you wait and see.
One day, your love again I'll be.
You will promise with me to stay
And I'll be so much happier, one day.

12/6/13 12:59 a.m.
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
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
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
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
J B Moore Nov 2015
I promised to never leave yet I left
A promise I meant to keep but haven't kept.
So I sit here so many tears having wept.
For all my promises not kept.

I can no longer hold you, 
I was not there forever.
Unlike I had once told you, 
I doubt we'll be together.

I promised to make you my wife
To be there for you for all your life
Now I sit here and I weep
Over the promises I cannot keep.

1:45 a.m. 12/11/13
Sometimes, life just doesn't let us keep the promises we so desperately wish we could.
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
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
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
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.
J B Moore May 2016
I want to be content with where I am
To be sure I've done all that I can
Yet I want to find hope that tomorrow 
won't be filled with as much sorrow 
That all that has brought me pain
Will soon bring forth some gain
That the sun will shine on brighter days 
And I will one day be home to stay.
I love her, I love her dearly 
Someday, one day she'll see it clearly.

1/1/14
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
J B Moore Jan 2019
I’m drowning in two feet of water.
I’d be safe if only I could stand,
But my arms and legs are too tired.
This is not what I had planned.

My eyes are closed shut, blind from the salt.
The tide is rising, waves are crashing over me.
They beat me down and pull me in;
The sounds of silence call me to the sea.

Deeper they draw me, further I fall
Caught in the current, far from the shore.
My cries, like myself, are drowned by the sea,
I’m splashing, thrashing until I can do so no more.

Submerged below the cool surface
I’m weightless... I’m free...
I wait... floating there, fearless,
For the sweet darkness to wash over me...

But then a flitter of thought flashes forthwith,
An image —the spark of hope set within—
The future —a beauty with eyes like the sea—
I can’t let this end before it even begins.

My burning lungs remind me I’m still living
When all this time I thought I was dying.
My muscles ache, death but a breath away
I’ve no energy to fight and yet I start trying.

I muster what little strength that I can
And reach ‘til my hands and feet find the sand.
I open my eyes and push with all my might
To come face to face with the most magnificent sight.

Your eyes were gentle, deep as the sea,
You were the spark that set me free.
“Don’t be afraid,” you said, smile gleaming,
“Those were shadows of ghosts, of which you were dreaming.”

1/3/19
J B Moore Jun 2018
She was a free spirit, held captive by the road.
He was a wandering soul, longing for a home.

She had sunlight for hair and the sky in her eyes,
His smile was a fire on a warm summer’s night

She was made of marble, beautiful and tough
He was chisled in the rock which made him strong and rough

They were two sides of the same silver coin
Two parallel lines destined never to join.

She was a free spirit, he was a wandering soul
Similarly different pieces, longing to be whole.

6/2/18
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
J B Moore Jun 2016
Here is something to remember,
I will hold you through many cold Decembers.
Giving all I can to keep you warm.
Especially through the coldest storm.

Remember if all I saw was you
My eyes would never tire
And you can never say different
Unless you think I am a liar. 
 
See, never in my life did I know I'd go to prom
Much less with someone not my mom.
And then to find once you're past the start 
That prom is for the heart.

Remember proven facts aren't always true
Yet one fact I will always prove
Is just how much that I love you.
For that's one thing that will always be true

For when I was lost 
You came running to find me
No matter the cost
You came to unbind me.

If I had been a slave 
You'd have treated me as free
Had I been a beggar
You'd have seen me as a king.

Don't forget how the memory works.
Slightly foggy with all of its quirks
Remember a memory, one of our firsts,
It seemed so special, with its lack of words.

So soft was the sand between our toes
The warm sunlight made our faces glow.
Quietly the waves brushed against the shore
 It seemed after every wave our hearts would beat more.

And there one thing I had to ponder,
While our hearts would beat like thunder.
How the sight of you just left me breathless,
And that to not see you again would leave me so restless.

Yes, how could a girl so beautiful as you
Fall in love with one like me.
You promise you will never leave
And for that I am amazed.

Yes, something to remember
I hold the most precious gem
By far its truly one of a kind,
One of which all men hope to find.

Yet the Father has blessed me
A terribly wretched sinner
To give me the best girl
Who cooks me the best dinners.

Remember, I say again and again
I have fallen in love with my best friend.
Never in my life did I look forward to forever.
Until now, since I know we'll be together.

And that's just a little something to remember.

11/3/12 1:25 am
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.
J B Moore Jan 2019
I am torn in two, divided yet whole.
Split in half, I hold both parts of my soul.
I thought I knew the answer— I don't know.
Don’t count on it— It’s decidedly so.

I should make the choice— we can never choose
Let’s flip a coin, heads they win, tails we loose.
—We lost— Let’s shake the ball for counsel
With out a doubt! —Or is it quite doubtful?

Yes or no, or maybe so, we will see.
Yes, I know, just let it go, we are free.
Are we wrong, or right, is it day or night, tell me.

Am I torn, divided, or split in two?
There’s a difference?— Oh if only I knew.
The voices in my head say they know what to do.

1/28/19
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
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?
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.
J B Moore Jun 2018
It has been said to me, "An act must thus ensue,
So that no one can ever see it's the world against you.
Yet that battle can only be fought behind the stage,
While everyone else sees you smile into your old age."

But they only love the mask, they only know the act,
They couldn't care any less for simple truth or facts.
By the end, perhaps, I'll finally believe,
And truly, completely, the world deceive.

I don't know where I'm going,
I scarce remember where I've been.
Still, blindly I am rowing until I reach that bitter end.

I'll be on that river by myself, all alone,
The truth is still unknown, the act all that remains,
For by now I am the mask of a man without a name.

1/1/15
(Revised 4/18/15)
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
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
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
J B Moore Dec 2015
"Why do I write?" asked The Poet to his pen,
"For justice? For peace? For the chance to get some sleep?
Did I think I'd be heard if I just wrote down my words?
Was it my belief that I did it for the fame or the glory
Or to just get some relief from the misery in my life's story?
"Why do I write?" asked The Poet once again.

"That is the question," said the pen in reply.
"After everything's done we must ask why.
That is the question to last through the ages
The question to fill all the books and their pages,
Written by the teachers and their sages
All seeking to answer the question why.

"Why do we do what we do when we do it,
If to wake up down the road and conclude that we blew it?"

4/22/15
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
J B Moore May 2019
There's a monster in the basement
In the shadows of the stairs.
There's a monster in the basement
And I'm sure he's covered in hair.

I have never seen him
But he smells like ***** socks.
His breath is just as stinky
And his skin is hard as rocks.

There's a monster in my closet
Behind my toys and all my books.
There's a monster in my closet
Daddy, take a look.

“There’s nothing in your closet,
Take a look for yourself,
Just clothes hanging from a hanger
And some books upon a shelf.”

There’s a monster under my bed
In the darkness behind my shoes
There’s a monster under my bed
I can hear him as he moves.

“There’s nothing there, it’s getting late
Sweet dreams, sleep tight, good night.
You don’t need to be afraid,
I won’t turn out the lights.”

There's a monster here beside me
Turns out he's just scared too
Of thunderstorms and dark, dark rooms
And even me and you.

5/19/19
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
J B Moore Nov 2015
The Sleeper sits among the shadows
Dark and dreary beneath the gallows
Go near him never still my dearest
Or else to slumber fall, I fearest.

Pray don't close thine eyes my dear,
Please, don't take to slumber
I know thine eyes are heavy
I know thy feelest weak
Pray, don't close thine eyes my dearest
Please, don't take to sleep.

Listen here my dearest, take to see and look
The Sleeper, he is waiting, there upon thy stoop.
Waiting, oh just waiting, for thou to givest in,
But dare ye not to let the Sleeper win.

Pray don't close thine eyes my dear,
Please, don't take to slumber
I know thine eyes are heavy
I know thy feelest weak
Pray, don't close thine eyes my dearest
Please, don't take to sleep.

He's at the door now, I hear the pounding;
The Sleeper's voice sickly resounding,
Calling out my name, my dear!
Calling me to sleep, I fear,
The dark so quietly surrounding.

Don't let me close mine eyes my dear!
Don't let me take to slumber.
Mine eyes are growing heavy,
My heart is growing weak...
Don't let me close mine eyes my dearest,
Pray, don't let me take to sleep.

9/6/14
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.
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
J B Moore Jan 2019
I am torn in two, divided yet whole.
Split in half, I hold both parts of my soul.
I thought I knew the answer— I don't know,
Do I dive in head first or take things slow?

We should try being friends first— her smile.
She laughs— a half of me sees an aisle
I’m too quick to jump— no, too slow to move
I’m too sick —Make a choice!— Will I ever choose.

Yes or no, or, yes and know? We’ll see,
Or maybe we never will, please, tell me.
Someone, anyone, will I be set free?

Am I divided, split, or torn in two?
Is there a difference? I wish I knew.
Oh, for crying out loud,what do I do?

1/17/19
J B Moore Dec 2015
I may not know what words to speak
When meeting new people, I'm a little weak
But I'll still watch closely and listen well
To capture the story they're all dying to tell
Had to write this down before it was lost in the maze of chaotic thoughts. Perhaps it will find its way into something with a title... or perhaps it will always be nameless
J B Moore Apr 2017
My memories of her have faded
Like a vintage photograph,
She has finally become
A fleeting moment of my past.
I didn't think of her as much today
And tomorrow I'll think of her even less.
But I doubt I'll think less of her
For in the past, as a friend, she was the best.
I don't remember her voice,
I can't recall her laugh,
For she has simply faded
Into a vintage photograph.
She no longer haunts me
She is not my ghost.
Her absence doesn't daunt me
Nor do I think of her the most.
She's simply just a picture
of a moment long ago,
A part of who I was and have become.
At last I am here where I can let her go.

3/28/17 11:05p
J B Moore Feb 2019
I. HOPE
Love, love, love. Love at first sight
Look at her smile, how it shines so bright.

Listen to her laugh, music to our ears.
She is the strength you need to face your fears.

All these years you thought you’d be alone
She is the proof that you can finally be known.

Proof, proof, proof. Living proof at last
You can overcome the living shadows of the past.

Do you feel the spark— the fire— deep with in your heart?
She’ll put back the pieces from when you fell apart.

Can’t you feel the connection within your very soul?
She can save you from falling back into that hole.

Get up, go over, talk to her, show her you care
She can’t get to know you if she doesn’t know you’re there.

Hear me, I am Hope, I simply speak with grace
If we take a chance we can find our happy place.

2/2/19
Part one of a seven part series of poems
J B Moore Feb 2019
II. FEAR
Lies! Lies! Lies! All of it, lies!
Everything you feel burning up inside.

She can never love you. She will never want you.
She doesn’t even like you. She will forever haunt you.

She thinks you’re gross— A stalker, a creep.
She’s afraid of you— You’re a monster, a freak.

You are different, strange, a little mentally deranged.
You are broken, used, something she would never choose.

Don’t listen to Hope, ignore your heart and soul
She is not a savior, she will not make you whole.

Sure, she’ll put together the shattered pieces of your heart
Only to sit back, laugh, and watch you fall apart.

You are wrong now just like you were wrong then.
Let Doubt be a warning, don’t make this mistake again.

The darkness is consuming. We will keep assuming,
You will never draw her near. Embrace me, I am Fear.

1/31/19
Part 2. This was the first one I wrote. It was surprisingly therapeutic.
J B Moore Feb 2019
III. DOUBT
Wait, wait, wait. Why such a rush?
How do you know this is more than a crush?
What if you see what you wish to be
Rather than what really is?
That smile, a blush— you wish to see
So you do, even though it’s not there.

Maybe it’s just your imagination
A lonely heart’s sad creation
Are you sure she feels the same as you?
Or are you quickly jumping
To a conclusion that simply isn’t true.
Shouldn’t we wait until we’re certain?

Listen close, just hear me out.
We don't even know her, for I am Doubt.

2/3/19
Part 3
J B Moore Feb 2019
IV. FAITH

Trust, trust, trust. Trust in His word
Fear and Doubt are being absurd.

Only in God should your hope be found
Let Christ be your solid ground.

There’s no need to be in such a hurry
Trust fully in God, and do not worry

He will bring to pass what is to be.
All in His good time, you will see.

Offer Him your fear and doubt in prayer
And don’t you forget He is always there.

I am Faith, feel me in your soul
Trust in God, He will make you whole.

2/3/19
J B Moore Nov 2015
I fight this battle hard and true
To find a way to make me new
But for all the pain that does ensue
I have me to thank and not you.

I'm tired out and torn apart
Ever since we broke each other's heart.
Such a feat came at a great cost
For that's when I found I was lost.

It seems that I am finding out
That evermore I'm finding doubt, 
For every right I do feels wrong
And I'm left wandering, wandering on.

What I should do I do not know,
Perhaps it's time to let this go.
I thought it was love, the day we met
But I guess it's time I just forget.

I long for things that have once been
To find joy in life, once again
But even at night this can never be
For not even my dreams have me smiling.

It seems that I am finding out
That evermore I'm finding doubt.
For after midnight comes the dawn
And I'm left wandering, wandering on.

I stumble around looking to find me
Trying to search for something to remind me
Have I ever been in this place before?
Or is this the first time I've opened that door?

I think I've lost myself to the night
Losing hope when I lost my sight
I'm blinded, broken, battered, and bruised,
If I find me will I be any less confused?

It seems that I am finding out
That evermore I'm finding doubt.
For out of sight my hope has gone,
And I'm left wandering, wandering on

7/7/14
J B Moore Apr 2016
It has been so long since we last met
That whenever we finally do

My greatest fear is having to ask
What has become of you?

4/22/16
J B Moore Dec 2018
Stop.

Take a minute to think...
...Maybe get a drink.

Good...

Now then...
Try again.

12/19/18
Just a goofy idea I had rattling in my brain. It’s a little dumb, but it makes me smile I and that’s enough.
J B Moore Nov 2015
Tomorrow shall I go to Paris for I'm searching to find
Those who witnessed a man killed for looking behind,
He who did something to Nobody while Everyone lied
And rushed him and beat him with sticks till he died.

I'll leave tomorrow, for today the sun beams are beaming
And tomorrow is a dream I didn't know that I'd be dreaming,
Where empty streets run red with blood and thunder
Leaving me alone with time to wonder:

If yesterday was Wednesday what will its tomorrow be?
Where are the witnesses who witnessed thee
Wandering alone in thine own misery?

Where went the rain on the road where you cried?
And what of Solitude who watched as you died?
You did something to Nobody but Everyone lied...
Why?
Class assignment, response to César Vallejo, "Black stone on a White Stone"
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

— The End —