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James Rowley Aug 2019
Delicately poised in the center of my palm
A fly, its slimy eyes poking out of its head
As it scuttled across happily,
Seemingly scouting the fleshy terrain.
I could crush it in my hand.
But this time… I won’t,
Not straight away anyways.
For even though I hold complete control,
Deserves a chance to escape
The deathly vice grip of humanity.
Had a pretty good idea on the train today. here it is :}
  Aug 2019 James Rowley
Grace E
Deep beneath the pines and firs
Looming in darkness, a mountains soul
Where the eagles make their roost
And the foxes dig their holes
A fire crackles to keep us warm
A blaze standing tall and bright
The forests darkness dims
And flees on the wings of firelight
James Rowley Jul 2019
Angelically gold Mary stood stoically
Cradling all that I’ve known to be true.
His father is dead; blank was his expression
Blank were the people bowing to him.

For all meaning had been lost to the wind.
Once, this place teemed with the beams of children;
Now that our fate is confirmed, we merely stare
Without sight.
James Rowley Jul 2019
Standing tall its rungs seemed so far apart then
The ladder peered down at my achievements with glee,
Realizing that I was nowhere near the standard of the men
That so easily surpassed this obstacle before me.
I tentatively touched the ladder, pleading for a strong foundation;
The steel rungs screamed back at me. Nonetheless I flailed forwards,
Gripping the battered beam without hesitation.
It told me of my critical mistake as it flung me westward,
And the jagged cliff loomed on as I was propelled ever closer
To the end of my hubris, that so set me on this path years ago.
happy Tuesday :}
James Rowley Jul 2019
All that is mine I carry with me.

My frosted spectacles
With the tiniest crack on the surface
Just enough to make them special.

My leather wallet
Beaten by years of rain and use.
Inside, a polaroid of the one I consider divine.

My keys
For what I do not exactly remember.
They stay nestled in the back of my pocket, rusting slowly.

My lyric book,
Complete with unfinished ideas that ****** at the
Back of my head, pleading to be finished one day.

My Memories,
Which have a repugnant smell of loss
That I embrace with open arms.

My ‘Dreams’,
A potent synthesis of reoccurring nightmares
Fundamentally unrequited in its presence.

My Addictions,
Virulent Vampires leeching droplets
off who I adore so dearly.

My Love,
You too are being ripped away
So quickly.

I think for now
I shall stare at my lyric book wistfully
Through my spectacles, hoping for redemption.

Perhaps one day I will again be able
To show you the Polaroid I hold so dearly
And finally get to use these keys.

All that is mine, I carry with me;
Hopefully I could one day
carry her too.
idk it didn't turn out as well as i wanted
James Rowley Jul 2019
Indeed, it must have been a year back
When I first laid eyes on her.
She was ruminating out on the willow tree
Deep in thought, her maroon eyes followed my footsteps.

When she moved, so did the leaves;
Tentatively rhythmic they swayed powerfully
As her flaxen hair danced playfully around
To the sound of the howling wind eclipsing my awe.

Briefly her heavenly gaze caught mine and conjured
Dreams of our future, intertwined with fragrant optimism
Rooting itself deeply in my head, taking a fluid, ever changing shape.
Maybe now, I thought, I could become what I so wanted to be.

The lianas shot upwards towards her as I stepped ever closer;
Their startling roots wrapped themselves around the willow’s boughs
For a split second, but it was just long enough to ******
Her away from me.

It seems to be that now only I
Can ruminate in despair on that same willow tree
Looking out on the idyllic plains, dreading the unavoidable day
When what i know to be real ceases to be.
I'm not really happy with this, but i am tired of working on it, so here you go
James Rowley Jul 2019
Bright and Beautiful, The cuckoo stood
Perfectly poised to peck at my eye
Ready to remind me that I should
Never be witness to his greatest crime.
A random thought i had
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