It is a worrisome world
that keeps itself
in a state of peril.
A galaxy of
merry fools
who fail to remember
the lessons of
all those old
days of December.

I feel dislocated,
isolated,
less than hated
because to the masses
I am irrelevant.
Even when,
I speak the truth
in poetry,
trying to make
it more palatable,
I am unknowable.

A Rockstar of the mind,
but my people
will not find the time
to remember
what I offer,

and as we
disintegrate
from history
space and time
will not be bothered
to remember
this bothersome
human species.

daddy fractured our world,
titled it off it’s axis, sent it
careening out of control.
that was before the day
his own impairment
made him overcorrect,
****
the mercedes onto unpaved
shoulder, then back
across two lanes of traffic,
and over the double yellow
lines, head-on into traffic.
that was before the one-ton
truck sliced the passenger
side wide open. that was
before premature death, battered
bodies, and scars no plastic
surgeon could ever repair.
yes, that was before

It is a porcelain battlefield
and I hear the
brown bodies drop
with a wet thwap.

I push and strain
against the pain
to purge this
unpleasant thang.

Prickly peanuts
thick and hard
tearing me up
as I yell
“Arrrrggggh.”

Hold on tight,
it’s one hell
of a fight.

A fearsome foe
falls once more.

Then I hear
civilians holler,
“God no
that’s so gross!”

“Oh no,
collateral damage!”
I think as
puffs of spray
are spritzed my way,
cause in the heat
of this hard-won battle,
I forgot to
shut the door.

Hello everyone,

  I'm so very sorry … I feel horrible doing this, but I have no choice. You see, I have published my first book on Amazon/Kindle! This piece (and many others) had to be taken down because they do not allow published material to be available online for free. (Go figure) I wanted to leave the shell of the posts because I felt compelled to leave all your helpful and loving comments. (Silly sentimental, I know), but I also didn't want to just have the pieces disappear without an explanation. I feel bad enough as it is!

  I owe ALL of you so, SO much for all of your reads, love, and support. It was YOU that gave me the gumption to FINALLY get off my **** and publish! Thank you all for the warm comments, camaraderie, and encouragement! I will still be here, reading, uploading and just being the Rascal that I am. How could I EVER leave you guys?

  The book is called “The Way I See It – FictionPhilosophySoul Food” and it will be FREE for the first few days on Kindle Select, so watch for it, if you are interested. I hope that you go and grab it. If you do, I would also hope that you find it worthy, you would leave me a good review. That will help me get in the public eye! Soon afterward (2-3 days or so), it will be available in paperback.

Find the book(s) here: www.amazon.com/author/jeff.gaines

Or find the book(s), and all about me, here: www.JeffGaines.world

  Soon after, I also hope to have my first novel (a supernatural thriller), called “Wanderer” available as well!

  Wish me luck!
Big, Biggest Love,
        Jeff Gaines

She writes sentiments
made to soften the hearts
of harden men and women.

In silent interludes
she scribbles
gentle syllables,

Rich whispers
fill my ears
hushing
the harsh pains
I feel
like torrential rains
on a raging forest fire.

I desire
to find
myself inspired
to write
something
as deep and beautiful.

I lust for larger words,
or perfected prose
to put something of me
and humanity
back into
the mind of strangers.

Often people ask me
What it is I do
Poet of the times
Purveyor of the truth

Peeling back the onion skin
Carving at the rhyme
Pouring drinks of imagery
Squeezing out the line

Taking out the sickle
Knocking down the weeds
Till I uncover the beauty of
Hidden treasures underneath

Often people ask me
What it is I see
In the ink of illusion
Known as poetry

I say the line of work I'm in
Suits this poet fine
Where so often I catch myself
Working overtime

my hands are covered
in scrapes and calluses
three week old blisters turned
gray with scabs and dirt

i paint my face on bravely
every morning and grind
the glitter into my skin
with a smile until i get home

and can let my cheeks begin
to droop and the hateful
thoughts i push down all day
begin to tumble out

i spend all day saying sorry
for things that aren’t my fault
and try to make
strangers laugh

and i work
and hustle
and sleep
and work

listen to the voices
tell me i’m not
trying
hard enough

and sleep
and hustle
and work
and sleep

and keep myself fighting
for something
but i don’t know yet
what that something is

sometimes at the end of
another day when my
body melts into bed
the glitter washes off
with tears

and the fear
pins me down
so i grit my teeth
shut my eyes and sleep

then i get up
pour another
cup of coffee
and just
keep
moving