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JDK Apr 2017
Though I can find and buy the perfect glass to fit my fingers while I relish in the past regrets that linger in a shape that's vague enough to haunt me for the rest of my days,
I still can't help but wonder if all of it was just a vain attempt at trying to live a life that's been prescribed.
I mean, in the commercially acceptable sense.
I mean, in the romantically cinematic glimpse of what romance is supposed to be.

You know, heavy breathing and sepia tones.

What is it about hearing people having *** in an adjacent room that makes me feel at the same time both incredibly alive and also incredibly alone?
JDK Nov 2012
Yea I'm crazy
Crazy confident
And crazy fun
Think you can handle that?
Then you're the only one

**** right I'm smart
Smart enough to know I'm not
Dumb enough not to care
Does that sound right to you?
Does that sound fair?

Sure I love her
But what does that matter?
It won't keep me coming back
After I've already had her

So what do you think,
And do you think it's true?
It doesn't mean much to me
So what is it to you
A.K.A The Lonely Narcissist
JDK May 2017
There are three kinds of writers in this world:
Those who write from a positive place,
those who write from a negative place,
and those who haven't figured it out yet.
After realizing that I'm part of the second group, I'm choosing to hang up my writing gloves. There's more than enough negativity floating around in the world already without my help.

#sometimesgiving uponyourdreamscanbeagoodthing
JDK Apr 2017
In a pinch, the picnic table can double as a shelter.
Nevermind the would-be athletes vaulting over it.
The lyrics of our song are carved underneath.
Sometimes, late at night,
I stand on top and remember how to breathe.
JDK Dec 2017
Somewhere between Gluttony and Vainity, I suppose.
I'm not Christian, but I'm big on catergorizing.
JDK Jan 2018
Walked to the bar through the snow.
There's too much on the ground to take my car.
With weather like this,
there's only one place to go.
Luckily, it ain't too far.
Small town blizzard parties, you know.
JDK Oct 2020
Mysterious poet with the obscene pun as a name, what is your game?

Sensitive artist at odds with her own sense of shame, are you doing okay?

Drop me a line or remind me that sometimes a stranger can be less than strange.

I'm struggling with change.

Or just hold it down and reach out to the void of your favorite stage.

I'm willing to pay.

These days are so crazy but we're getting too lazy to process the pain.

It's only making it worse.

Gonzo girl with her absurdly relatable way of reading the world,
let's hear a new verse.
I never see new posts from my favorite poets anymore. It's disconcerting.
JDK Nov 2014
I get drunk, then I get weird.
It's kind of what I do.
Sometimes,
I'm weird when I'm sober too,
but only around those who never do.
Get drunk, is what I mean.
I deal with them best when I'm hungover;
Half-awake and half-asleep.
Maybe it'll be easier when I'm older. It's true:
I'm filled with doubt and dreams,
and hung up on memories that I can't keep,
but that's nothing new.
Sympathy is when you feel for someone you can't relate to.
Empathy is when you feel for someone just like you.
JDK Jan 2014
I like you so much,
it's bound for disaster.
Let's pretend we're in a musical.
Take my hand, and we'll dance.
Let's start with the "Happily Ever After,"
and have a doomed romance.
What rhymes with "musical?"
JDK May 7
The glow of streetlight bled through rows of aluminum,
streaking the scene in shadow.
An off-season quiet stirring in the bones,
and the intermittent flash of a moth's wings.
The echo of cicadas drowning out everything.
A hum to follow you home.
JDK Jul 2015
Perfect is boring.
Five bucks to anyone who gets this allusion.
Why
JDK Apr 2010
Why
And again alone in a den of dark
The walls wear thin
And then the rain starts

Bitterness can turn sweet when you chase it with sugar
Like having an epiphany at the end of a hang-over

And it pours down like this:
A man says his words just so she knows he has words to say.  
His listener turns to leave, but he asks her to stay.

You'll find more inside eyes than you ever will through diction
Everybody's lives are told as a fiction
The truth lies
Down in the eyes
Along with the answers to the why's.
The Why,
Why,
Why's?
Why
JDK Nov 2015
Why
You can sit in your bed,
and go through every conversation and situation,
and yet you'll never know why.

You can cry every last tear that you have,
for days on end,
and you'll still never know why.

You can say a million words,
or "sorry's,"
or even "I love you's,"
but you will still never know why.

You can lose hope more times than you can count,
and even then you will never know why.

And maybe that's just it;
Nobody's supposed to know.
My younger sister wrote this one and asked me if I'd post it.
I do believe that talent runs in the family :)
JDK Dec 2014
He's got a flair for the ironic,
and a stare that's sardonic,
with an attitude that clearly puts people off.
He's got a problem with getting turned on
by the things he thinks are wrong,
and he does it all to better relate to the lyrics of a song.
Attempting to live a literary lifestyle,
that kid is some kind of wild.
He's got soulful eyes,
but I don't trust his smile.
Not the kind of story I like to read.
Surely, he's trouble.
That one's a bad seed.
JDK May 2015
Lately I've been letting the smoke out
before I **** it all in.
The taste of it.
It makes me feel nostalgic
for the days when I didn't used to inhale;
those glory days back in high school
before addiction felt real.
"You know these things will **** you, right?"
JDK Feb 2017
There's a certain kind of silence here.
The profound and total only-in-the-country type of silence that city folk fear.
(The kind that my poor mother back home staves off with television and beer.)

So heavy and complete that even with your head under the sheets it's impossible to keep warm enough to ever get any decent sleep.
It's the kind of silence that pierces dreams.

The kind that a tortured mind can easily fill with demons of every type.
The kind that keeps you on edge all night with wide searching eyes and adrenaline rushes flooding in behind any foreign sound,
followed by a slow winding down of blood pressure and panic and heart beats.

The kind that when you suddenly wake up in it and glance at the alarm clock,
you hope like hell the first number isn't 3.

*

*It's moments like these that make me wish there was somebody else here with me,
if only for the reassurance that a nearby body can bring.
The sound of someone else's steady breathing.

And maybe, a naked back to trace the subtle valleys of while half-asleep,
thinking little epiphanyish-type thoughts that'll be forgotten by morning.
The kind that usually start or end with: "This is it."
I don't need alcohol or TV, just fantasies.
(And words, apparently)
JDK Jul 2017
I raked, trimmed, and mowed this yard today.

I can dance through it if I want to.
Happy birthday America
JDK Oct 2017
Here's the thing about getting stung by potent bat-**** bees whose venom is full of both profundity and absurdity;
You'll spend the rest of your life recovering from it,
while simultaneously attempting to decide which is witch.
Aw ****, I'm allergic.
JDK Jun 2018
You used to play with words.
You used to dance to the sounds they'd make as they wound their way through the cogs in your brain.

You used to savor the way a juicy one would linger on the tip of your tongue,
while surrendering to the pleasure of a proper pronunciation.

You used to wear your words
as a fashion statement,
the scope and shape of the connotations beneath only ever subtly hinted at;
An enticing invitation to think.

You used to play with your words.
You turned it into an art.
But now you only use them to get something you want.
JDK Aug 2015
But then and when I fell again,
I know I should have said something,
but I didn't.
I stayed silent instead.
Anything, everything, nothing.
JDK Aug 2015
Why do people write?
Is it because their thoughts are too loud?
Is this the only way they've found to somehow dim the sound?

Like a pressure relief valve.

The pen as a wrench.
Use it to unscrew that hydrant;
let it all pour out.
They make good shovels too.
JDK Sep 2016
The woods are wonderful dark and deep,
but really I should get some sleep.
The patterns in my head are gold and red,
but really I should go to bed.
What dreams may come aren't always kind,
but don't be afraid to close those eyes.

Life's a mess but nevermind.
I'd write ****** rhymes all night if you'd let me.
JDK May 2017
Your alternate universe is full of plot* holes,
but at least you're the star.
INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR A MEANINGFUL ANSWER
JDK Jul 2015
He'd probably say,
"*******!"
Then follow it up with,
"Not in my father's house!"
Jesus was a rebel, just sayin'.
Atheists come at me (I'm kind of on your side.)
Christians come at me (I'm kind of on your side too.)
Faith is one hell of a thing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9pYwPc6UNmo
JDK Oct 2014
It was just a fantasy.
Faded now, but even then,
I haven't grown up yet.
Still a kid playing make pretend.

In reality, I'm afraid to be your friend.
I've a pristine image of you in my head.
All glossy glow in a coat of varnish.
I'd hate to see that halo tarnished.

Angel, don't you understand?
I'm not fit to be your man.
I know you've got one and I'm not him.
Jealousy is such a deadly sin.

Heard it said many times from lovely lips.
Karma has gone and flipped the script.
Finally forced to admit a phrase wrought in irony:
You Are Far Too Good For Me.
We both know it
JDK Nov 2017
I don't care that you don't care about how little I care about anything.
I don't even care if you do care about how much care I'm taking to show that I don't care.

What I'm trying to say is that I don't care, okay?

Did you hear me?

I DON'T CARE AT ALL!
Have you ever softly rejected someone and then they get all indignant and try to put on like they were never interested in the first place?
JDK Jan 2017
"I think I ****** that one up,"
he said to the ghosts in the room.

We get where you're coming from

I wish I would've been looking up when the moon fell on my head.
(How rare to find a crater with these exact dimensions?)
I think I can hear an ocean's longing for the echo of a lost tide,
like a billion and one tiny grains swirling through my insides.

We get where you're coming from

No you don't.
Go away.
JDK Oct 2017
Said the young guy on my right.
"Why?" asked the bartender.
"Because people are more likely to come out if you yell 'fire.' It's been proven."

Her brow furrowed in doubt.

"Well that makes sense," I said, trying to help.
"**** makes people uncomfortable, but everyone wants to see a fire."
Excerpt from a recent conversation at the bar.
JDK Nov 2016
Perhaps I should've thought twice before partaking in this hike.
My legs are killing me.
I'm tired all the time.
My dreams only remind me of all the trips that I've had.
Those are stones and these are bones and one day you'll have a grave to call your own.
JDK Jun 2013
I'm always waxing and waning
Thinking I've gone crazy
Climbing mountain tops just to pick a few daisies
Sometimes, it's lonely

I'm always leaving before I've arrived
My mind is up there dancing with the clouds in the sky
But then,
Sometimes,
I can see heaven right through your eyes

It's not that I haven't been paying attention
I take it all in as mental expansion
Connecting everything to the dots in my head
Looking for the true meaning behind the words that you've said

I'm always revealing too much, while not showing enough
I guess you could say I'm a bit out of touch
I guess you could say I'm not easy to love

Sometimes, I cry
But not for myself
I cry for the lost souls that I can't seem to help

Sometimes, I laugh
In spite of myself
And at this trivial pursuit
Of trying to figure it out
But that's when it hits me
(Sometimes there's an audible click)
And I smile and laugh louder
Because I have it
I am God, and so are you.
JDK Dec 2017
All I want for Christmas is something to start the grill with.
Coal? Just what I wanted!
JDK May 2014
I speak in metaphors,
but I feel like I've met you before.
You were what was hiding on the otherside of my door.
You were the canopy at the top of the trees;
Basking in the moonlight.
I tried to climb but I fell on the way up.
You were the branches that broke my fall.
You were the leaves in autumn;
How I tried to catch them all.
You were the one that held me tight.
You were the clouds that cloaked the moon in the middle of the night.
You were all the things that I struggled to see.
You are everything that I want to be.
JDK Nov 2012
A scenic analytic man with figures pouring out his hands might come across you one day,
Sitting oh so lonely in a dark and dismal way,
Extending out his hand in a gesture of affect.
What will you do to process this abstract?
Reach out in a gesture of "I know it too,"
To bridge that tiny gap between a me and a you.
JDK Jul 2014
"I'm ugly."

"*******.
If you're ugly, then flowers are hideous,
and sunsets are a joke.
Butterflies nothing more than grotesque insects with over grown wings,
and the night sky is completely overrated.
If you're ugly, then a child's laughter is grating,
and music is just atrocious noise.
A smile's just a contortion of the face,
and poetry is just words.
If you're ugly, then a garden's just an arrangement of plants,
and dreams just nonsense played out in the brain.
Art would have no value,
and brilliant people would just be insane.

You are the farthest thing from ugly,
so don't say **** like that,
because if you aren't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,
then beauty doesn't exist."
a poet's pangyric
JDK Aug 2015
I'm sorry I didn't recognize you.
(Those few years between might as well've been centuries.)
It seems you were just the guard rails on a bridge I burned a long time ago.
I should have hung on.
"Uh . . . should I?"
JDK Dec 2015
I dream of You.
I wake up to You.
I go to work and You're there.
Everywhere is You.

I come home to You.

When I'm alone,
there's only You.

Music is You.
Movies are You.
Every book ever written;
every word on every page:
You, You, You.
  
The sun, the world, and everything is You.
You are at the core of my being.  

I spend every day with You,
but I never get near Me.
Satire?
JDK Dec 2015
Bitter heart.
Bitter tastes.

Broken parts -
Pretty face.
“Broken people are beautiful. They have to put themselves back together every day.”


― Robert Tew
JDK Nov 2015
The scene dissolved easily once I realized she was bleeding.
Why'd you do that to yourself?
There's a discrepancy between what was seen and what's believed.
She could hardly believe it herself.

"I don't know why.
There's something wrong with me."

Nonsense.
I don't get it.
I don't understand.

"There's nothing wrong with you."

We hugged each other as hard as we can.
Could*

Would you believe me if I told you that life is worth living?
She says she's tired of swimming.
She says she thinks about suicide every single day.

*******, ___,
I love you.

Don't make me feel this way.
What do I have to do to convince you?
JDK Jan 2015
Some nights are for writing.
Some nights are for reading.
I only pander to poets.
JDK Aug 2016
My body is a home.
Our limbs are bent tree trunks writhing in a storm.

Your breath is wind I bend to swallow.
My eyes are black holes that pull you in.
Our tangled limbs are frozen forever on some forgotten event horizon.
This disaster is all your fault.
JDK Nov 2016
Went to bed and dreamed of getting my *** kicked by the Queen of Earthquakes.
Six hours later and I'm waking up with a headache.
Hid from the sun beneath sweaty sheets.
The only thing that gets cold here is the space in our chest.

Road the bus with a load of automatons withered with rust.
Scanning the seats with dead-beat eyes.
Hey, would you mind if we traded places?
I like the window seat best.

Paperclip trebuchets wage war in front of ignored spreadsheets.
Just another day in paradise,
but now I think I feel a stirring between my legs.
Here we sit waiting on a disaster to speed up our slow demise.

But all that aside, the thing is that when I stare into her eyes I can feel my feet sliding -
Carrying me toward the tittles in the middle with a gliding force that can't be avoided.

i think i might like her a little.
Win/wind
Lose/loose
These/those
Geese/goose
JDK Aug 2015
Every day contains another series of unknowns:
Unforeseen troubles, unanticipated worries;
untold tales of woe.

But deep down in my bones,
I somehow seem to know
that you'll show me something beautiful.
Thank you for allowing me to look forward to tomorrow.
JDK May 2015
Bouncing back and forth
with a slap or gentle tap.
Seems like a dance at first,
but it's just buildup for the attack.
The crack of wood on plastic.
Simple rhythm interrupted by a smack.
You got me good with that smash,
but I'm gonna get you back.
This one is about ping pong. (For Chris ;)
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