Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
My role is chaperone
To unmolded Clay
For the unruly
Are off to play

Never before
Could I comprehend
Such utter neglect
Where do I begin

Perhaps in the middle
To make no sense
A cosmic joke
A blindfolded riddle

What was my point
The mute would ask
That ships done sailed
Ignorance has come to pass

My clay is dried out
And my ego sore
I turn off the laughter
And slam the door

All that's left to do now
Is genocide
Keeping up with the Joneses
And their Petty homicide

So roll out the carpet
And bake me a cake
I'll be driving in backwards
For pity's sake
Never before have I revealed my madness
Are described to the world my infinite sadness
All these Twisted thoughts
To be received and sent
I am omnipotent
But wretched and bent
That's what my sickness does for me
That's how the devil set me free
I see your torment
In shades of alabaster and blue
I hear you're whining
And gagging beneath me too
I pity your effort
it goes in vain
I relish your sorrow
I feed off your pain
I triggered this Saga
To drive you insane
Laughing in silence
as your sobbing my name
Aroused by the violence
I'll bring the pain
I am the defiler
Legions my name
I Am that I Am (אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה‬ ’ehyeh ’ăšer ’ehyeh)

for Eléa

the requests are assiduous, regularly arrivaling, some shy,  
some heinous demanding and denouncing,
inquisitors inquisiting this revelation,
as if it could be bought in a Five and Dime,
with a childlike whining insistence

just  exactly who are you?

this is not my name above,
but one of seventy the Father gave himself

He named me in a fit of efficacy and whimsy and in and from, a fit of a deep veined mystery

You Raise Me Up

all this on the ****** side of corny, and would not blame you
if you moved on…

so nominated in honor of my mission, to travel with you in
all the travails that ail,
to raise you up to raise me up and thus salve the universe's cracks,
fill the crevices and the ****** scars invisible,
with the precise refreshment that make my life,
a slave to your thankfulness

I am the wetness of a mother’s lips upon
a thin red tear on a child’s skin,
I am the the rock hard father’s shoulders grasped by a child’s arms, the child does yet understand that human is illusion,
human is human, however strong,
it is the allusion of human limitations
that is our magical

I am the present re-borning come with a morning glory,
the time when the Am and the Pm  future merge in a name
without tense,
past present and what I may be is simply what
I am

when the past is but another sky bright star, untouchable,
but winking at you, to you personally

I am the touch of the untouchable,
a messenger commissioned to remind you when
the reminders are too far apart,
or even too close
and thus make a breathing space
in between for the living and the missing

I am the
no difference
between a newborn’s soft skin cells
relentless multiplying,
that offers the same precise sensation of the
grandmother’s delightful wrinkling cells of smiles of her
relentless dying,
for all, one and the same,
the child in her is you, baby

I am the fall before the rise, the first that defines the last,
the standard, once obtained, nevermore unobtainable

I am the first fruit of the summer,
a tongue blossom, a burst of memory, always recalled,
always the same, that begs for forgiveness for there are no
new words to describe the profound finding of the
simple pleasures that sustains the blessing over all things new that
are recurring and truly
renewable (shehechayanu)

I am the crinkle in the eye, the one that hides in the fine lines
and upon the lips,
when you purchase the hope however fleeting of a
$2 Powerball ticket,
the very same hope preserved when you laugh when you lose,
for there is contentment in knowing one may hope spring eternal,
yet again in a finite
three more days for and too another lousy two bucks fantasia

I am the ruse of happy satisfaction of a man
in the dark of alone at home,
staring at his sizeable bank balance
and the happy knowledge that its loss  it will make it greater someday when it  happy converted to memories and photos that  are worth a thousand times its multiplicity
if only,
or when,
he knows how

I am that pain in the left side of your red sea-parted soul that cannot be dismissed but is religiously ignored,
that you alone know of
due to its persistent existence, and because it is just tolerable,
it is a sad but comforting pain,
an acknowledgment that a companion travels with you
and that in someway is ok and you exist

I am the water on the night table that extinguishes the dry throat of recurring visions in eyes that always end badly
and make the bed’s welcome a fearful thing,
which is a fearful thing for in good sleep is the
re-naissance and re-formation and the salvation
that was given to you as a gift inside thy mother’s womb,
and that
it is I,
whispering the hum of easy soft lambs,
soft breathing you
unto welcoming rest

I am the poem that must end because of our
frailties and impatience to live in
the reality of human touch,
that must be put aside for any novocaine of words

I am the one who can only be alive
when he raises you up and
you begin a new poem all your own,
and then exit it too, willingly,
to embrace the raising up of living

and that is the
who I am
that I am
raising us up
The cursor curses the wait

thru the blinks it sniffs
something is amiss

it can't though surmise the cause
of the pause
but guesses the abyss

elusive shapes and shadows
a void that grows
the lost surge

the jumble in the head
the missing thread
the moribund urge.

There's so much to right
and nothing to write.
A small girl
sitting in the wind,
enduring gale
after gale
of pondering
wondering
if she has
the confidence
within.
She fights
herself
while enduring
the raging winds

A breeze of fresh air
turns into a
dark, question mark.

The young girls mind
has
heavy water torrents
raging inside
She wants to drown
cuz she wants to survive

I'm screaming against the wind
wishing I could heal her
with words
that burst from within
with fire burning
from the heart
tears dripping down
my chin
turn to ice
making blisters
on my
skin

It leaves me paralyzed
from the pain that's in her wind

She turns around
showing the purest smile
courage shining brightly
behind those saddened eyes
which ignites me
I'm in awe, inspired
of
that strength
that hearts desire

"You stand strong
with no eye in this storm!
But it's a fight you will win!
You ignite the people around you
because your heart
is heard through the roar
in these winds!
You will soar
through the sky
in your mind
because that strength
already lies within!"

My words never reached her
because she stood up
and walked her path
proudly

I can only hope
she catches
a few of my words
that are now drifing
in the wind.
tonight, i am not
walking fast enough,
in this hungry darkness  —
my legs too short, or too long
for my clothes to hide.

i am not one to
be afraid; oblivious,
secure, leaving my mother
to watch the news
by herself.

but tonight, something
feels different. my heart
stumbles, racing, knowing
there’s no escape  —

that out of the
dozens on this street, i am
the one the bullet will
find, or the car
will slam into

from behind.
in the morning,
pull my body from the
river, say a prayer.

i knew. tonight,
there was going to be
bloodshed. tonight, i would be
the one not
saved.
wrote this in my head, when i was walking home from a nearby mall one night, and it was so, so dark, and i just had this really weird feeling in my chest.
Will you trust me with your heart as I trust you with mine if
I promise. . .
to be your strength when you are weak
and your voice when you can't find the
words to speak and if
I promise. . .
to give you faith
when you are insecure and if
I promise. . .
to listen to you
when you need to talk and if
I promise. . .
to always hold you
when you need to be held and if
I promise. . .
to be your smile
when you are frowning and if
I promise., . .
to always tell you what is real
when you want to hear the truth and if
I promise. . .
to be your dream catcher
to chase away you're every fear and if
I promise. . .
to tell you no lies
but just what is true and if
I promise. . .  
I will try to lift you up
when you are feeling down and if
I promise . . .
to be your strength
when ever you are falling down and if
I promise. . .
to never hurt you
or break your heart and
you know that
I can't promise you the world and I can't promise you the sky or promise you that we will never fight or that you will never cry but I can promise you that I will always be true till the end of time, so will you trust me with your heart as I trust you with mine knowing that our success won't just happen by default but can and it will happen by design.                                                          ­                Jon York   2018
Next page