Duly noted
and
show boated
A cross of
what you need
And what made
your belly bloated

Secretly promoted
Enthusiastically gloated
All for a piece of metal
Cold and gold coated

Humbly devoted
Bold Italics posted
Only to line the ranks
Heavy and revolted

Pepsi
and
Pop rocks
Shoved
in a mouth
Just to end up
Exploded

Poetry is dead
when you are not here
to write it in my heart
when your voice is too far away
to read it.

Poetry is dead
when your allure is feeding
strangers' souls on the streets
while I am here alone,
my soul starving.

Poetry is dead in all my being
I feel its ghost leaving my brains
I feel the emptiness inside
and I fear the days
when it will come haunt me
and I won't find a way
to write it.

Sleeping at night it's impossible
cause I hear a question screaming in my chest

When poetry is dead
is there anything out there
left
*alive?

Thinking about the first poems I wrote
Taking my notebook, on a sunny day
A solitude park
Located in a small town Illinois

Feeling the sun on my back
As I scribble the words for a new poem
The melody of birds singing
A small breeze upon my face

Back in the days
Where I was writing for myself
Where I was the only one reading
The visualization of my own thoughts

Poetry is unique
Everyone imagines words a different way
Never let anyone define your skills
Write out your heart, poetry is made for you

A** face of joy
A smile that makes you laugh
A nd every once in a while
A lonely tear running

I wonder what your eyes see
That mine don’t
What your mind thinks
That mine won’t

I wonder what your heart feels
That mine can’t
Who your love touches
That mine shan’t

I wonder what your dreams conceive
That mine wouldn’t                                                         ­ 
And what you will achieve
That I couldn’t                                                        
­
I wonder where your destiny lies
That mine isn't                                                            ­      
What your legacy will symbolize
That mine didn't
BOEMS BY JA 488

She has to be in the mood for poetry
Seeking comfort in the
Soothing melody of written words
Only reading in times of solitude
Where shed tears remain invisible

He needs to be in the mood for poetry
Hidden words inside his heart
Hoping to find fulfillment in his lines
Ongoing pain that has to be told
The ink stains left on his bare hands

We have to be in the mood for poetry
When solitude threatens to crush our heart
When pain needs to be expressed in lines
Over various boundaries of life
Poetry is a way to express ourselves

Today I went walking
To go buy some treats
And on the way there
Down these familiar streets
Something in me shifted
Something had changed
Maybe that  something was
Simply nothing but me
I grew up here in this small town
Just for two short years
But to me you are home
And I cannot let go
But something in me was
No longer the same
At first I thought nothing of it
As I walked to the small store
For soda and candy
And ice cream galore
Bit on my way out
This nagging consumed me
I pushed it down
Into the depths of my mind
For a moment
I didn't want to think about
The growth and the change
Because I wanted everything to be the same
I don't want to leave behind childhood bliss
When my biggest problem was
Remembering who's weekend it is
I miss the simplicity of having no fear
But I know that that girl
Has long since disappeared
I was able to fight off all of these thoughts
Until I had almost reached my old front walk
I saw a woman walking away
From the cul-de-sac I'd been through
So many times
However
I didn't think I was seeing someone else
Because I got lost
In watching myself
I saw a child walking toward me
Not that woman in a sweatshirt
I saw the sheepgrass grown too high
And an adult version of me
Walking my way
Like some sort of warning
And I heard a voice
Like a scene in a movie
Telling me to move on
And release all my agony
She sounded just like me
At seven, fifteen, and twenty
Telling me nothing was wrong
Unless I let it be
As I write these words
Recounting my evening stroll
I realize I am never alone
I am the only thing in my way
Nothing is concrete
And sometimes things change
But I control me
And I think I'll enjoy it this way