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Jack Harrell Oct 2023
So you’re all grown up
You’ve made it this far
You’ve left the house now
You bought your own car

Your feet have gotten bigger
Big enough for your dads shoes
Your mind is strong enough to meddle
But your feet don’t even reach the pedal

You say you’re grown up now
But you continually act like a child
Giving up after a short time
I’ve never seen you smile

You can’t take the stress
This world has bent you
Out of shape you decompress
You’re completely torn in two

But that’s okay
It happens to us all
It’s a growing pain
It’s the wake up call
Ahahahha I remember exactly the context I wrote this in. I like to imagine that most of the people who would read this also have a locked collection of their own personal poems. Sort of a little journal of little sonnets and limericks that  aren’t meant to be shared. Anyway, this whole collection just comes from those. Those little shower thoughts that I take the time to jot down in my notes app.
Jack Harrell Oct 2023
It’s been a while since I’ve written anything.
It’s 6:57 in the morning and I’m munching pretzels.
I don’t care about the crumbs in the bed this time.
Normally I would, but this morning I don’t bother.
I think it’s because I know that I’ll clean them out when I wash my sheets next week.

I have to be at work in a few hours.
I moved back to a familiar town because the stress of trying to exist in a new place was too much.
Normally I love a challenge, but I should have listened to my father.
He said “It doesn’t matter what you do, you’re good at whatever you try to be good at.”

And that just about sums up the last 4 years.
Not being good at anything,
Because I don’t want to be good at it.
Finding niche hobbies that capture my imagination for a little smidge of time.
But all the while my patience is gaunt in the cheeks.

So that’s why I don’t mind the crumbs in the sheets.
Forgot about this little community that I used to love. Anyway, I’ve recently been reminded of why I like poetry by a friend who shared a spoken word YouTube account with me. Small slant rhyme that only shows up every like 400 syllables yet still connects a common thought. Beautiful.
Jack Harrell Jul 2020
How do
You gather
Those seeds?
I need
Those seeds,
For my
Beautiful garden.

Gimme
How do you do it?
Jack Harrell Jul 2020
My sunglasses twinkle
While they lay on your breast
I say “Go mingle”
You say “I’ll do my best”

We’ve been doing alright
We’re getting by
It’s been what, a week now?
Since either of us has cried

“Time to go” keys jingle
Crunching through the snow
It sounds like stale Pringles
“Why’d we have to go?”

“Why were we there at all?”
“I don’t know? Welfare call?”
“I just want to go to sleep”
“Our blankets run deep”

Keys jingle “Back. Finally.”
One slow upstairs trod

Above my door frame
A white board hangs on a rod

9 \ Days since last breakdown

“Scratch that”

Zero
I wrote this a while ago when I was a different person. May it bring you solace should you need it or a reflection upon your past self.
  Dec 2019 Jack Harrell
L B
Susan
with her china-white skin
relaxed
down to lace bra and *******—

“Have you ever heard this?” she asks

… sets the album, drops the needle
in the groove
We wait till bass fills in the room
sending time and silence empty-handed
down a hallway

Susan lights a joint
settles on the bed
ample legs begging apart
She ***** in deeply
impounding clouds  
Head thrown back
Thick glossy hair—
loses gravity
Eyes half-closed, shadow-heavy
clear and blue like piano
The walls are muted trumpet
stutter-hush of cymbal and the snare
Crackling over scratches

We are barely there

Susan exhales
a swirl of fog to a frail moon
Only her sultry voice still holds me tethered

“Have you ever heard anything— like this?”

Miles flows 
around me
Smoking
On the floor of Susan’s room
lying clothed and drunk
Soaked
with chords and wonder

I never hear him coming

Miles takes his time
Clearly, Susan was not the ****** here.  The year was 1969; Lowell State College dormitory in Massachusetts.  I was 19, a music major and on my way to becoming "radical revolutionary" and a poet. The album, I think, was Kinda Blue with Miles Davis and John Coltrane et al

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqNTltOGh5c
Jack Harrell Dec 2019
Spaceman come back,
you'd only just made it here.

What's it like out there?
I wonder if there's no atmosphere.

Crazy, it seems to me,
that you have come so far

and all you've done

is leave
typed with no intention other than avoiding cleaning up after a dog
Promises made by mortal man
Are rarely met by mortal hand
For though they strive to win your heart
Such passions land far from their start

They'll paint, so clear, a future bliss
And draw you in with blinding kiss
But just when you have bought the dream
Man finds pursuits more worthy to deem

Ambition, sport and other girls
Whose flattering words and smiles like pearls
Will tempt a fellow to leave his nest
And lie upon another's breast

'Tis pain so sharp you think you'll die
And tears aren't found enough to cry
A torture rack would be better friend
With all its tearing limb to limb

To have your innards disemboweled
Or face the fiercest lion's growl
Would be kinder punishment than this
From one who knew your ****** kiss

And yet within this darkest night
A hint of moonbeam's softest light
Might rise upon such blistered soul
And shine into its gaping hole

For romance still may spark a flame
And whisper to your heart by name
To woo you in your bleakest hour
With promises of healing power

Promises unlike the others you've known
Whose good intentions were quickly thrown
Away by the frailty of human flesh
When sin's entanglements did enmesh

No, this One's words are wholly sure
His heart and mind and will are pure
His faithfulness cannot be shaken
Nor His covenant love ever be taken

He chose you before He made the sun
And said to the Father, "I want that one!"
He searched you out through all your years
Through all your joys and pains and fears

And now He waits for you to grasp
That deepest pleasure lies in His clasp
That His own kiss brings highest delight
That His face is eye's sweetest sight

It's He alone Who can fill you up
And saturate your empty cup
When life has left you hollow and dry
And numb to further wish to try

When memories lie tarnished with stains
And not one worthy dream remains
He reaches in with perfect hope
That pulls you up like saving rope

And as He wipes tears from your eyes
He says to you: I am the Prize!
Take hold of Me and drink My love
Come sit with Me in realms above

For I have blessings prepared for you
That you've never imagined, but oh it's true
I long to give you all of Me
To draw you close and let you see

That in your pain you know Me best
That heart's rejection finds its rest
In this sweet fellowship of intimacy
Where you are made to look like Me

I'll give you love like you've not known
Enough to see your will o'erthrown
Enough to pour it out upon
That very one who did you wrong

For that one, too, knows thirst of soul
And needs My love to fill the hole
Which, though he's tried hard to ignore,
Pleads, "More and more and more and more!"

But if he never should respond
Still, that pure love will seal the bond
That ties you to My own heartbeat
For then you'll see My love complete

For though the world resists Me still
I love them fiercely and always will
I've known rejection like no other
From bride and kindred and friend and brother

And when you love through hate and scorn
A jewel within your heart is born
For then you glimpse My own heart's breaking
And learn My secrets of rarest taking

To rejoice in the face of bitter spite
Requires sure death but will invite
Your soul to dance in gardens of bliss
Where you will know My Lover's kiss

So come and dance with Me, make haste
There's no spare moment left to waste
Abundant life waits through this door
With thrills and pleasures evermore!
~~~
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