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 Sep 2018
Jesse stillwater
Marooned  land-locked
    on  island  earth

Born with an orphan’s
    unknowable ache

Born with an empath heart
– always feeling too much –
mystic receptors wide awake
    in a highly sensitive soul

It’s as if I've walked along
      forever alone,
    one step at a time,
    lost in a restless nebula
from the earth to the moon

Consciously dreaming
      to steal away, 
bearing the weight of the sky, 
upwards over the mountain,
away from these chains
         that bind

    The maelstroms echo
behind silenced, probing eyes
with an unsated thirst
      to be wanted
    dead or otherwise:

Never understanding
    the reasons why,
spinning around in my head;
where "once upon a time"
        was hidden,
        buried alive              

A lifetime spent trying
    to unlearn the things
    I wish I’d never
    sought to know,
    clinging to the love
I've touched in my life
  evermore enwombed
       in my heart

    Passing milestones:
walking another barefoot mile
passing so many locked doors
    without keyholes
– way outside the lines –

    Choking on all
    the latent words
      lay fallow, 
      left unsaid 
Always looking for
something dreamt
but seldom manifest 

Growing so tired and weary
with no one standing by my side;  
no one to lay down beside me
    to take a rest for awhile

Just another chapter
in a timeless same old story;
  another dark star
      burned – out
      – vanished –
into the utter obscurity
of a sky so close and yet
       so far away...


Jesse Stillwater ... August 22, 2018
Thank you for reading ...
 Sep 2018
Blade Maiden

The room in starlight bathed
My body unscathed
Swimming indoors
sheets are shores

Wash over me like the tide
for I don't sleep at night
Swimming indoors
where it always pours

Moon reflection
on my cushion
Swimming indoors
following ancient lores

Diving deep to find
an Atlantis on my mind
Swimming indoors
til reaching the dream's source
 Sep 2018
Blade Maiden

And so I go
I bid you farewell
Don't forget
I love you so
this is all I know
all I can tell
For my own sake
I have to find out
not about
what's high
but what is low
so you will find me
way down in the well
under the lake

I know
You still feel the need
to carve your initials
into stones,
into the concrete
All I want is
to leave mine
on your lively skin
along your spine
Don't think
stone would care
for we are nothing but
cycling trivialities
stone won't know
what we'd dare
stone doesn't have
an interest
in our qualities

I know
Now I take
my leave of you
you, the idea
me, something that
wants to be true
But let me promise
you and me
we'll meet
for the first time
before the tide will reach
the last tree
Because then
all books
will be gone
no one there
to sing us
a sad song
And all these words
will be of no avail
and nothing
that now hurts
will prevail

Everything is
inevitably
designed to
disintegrate
the whole of
earths array
linked until the end
inseparably
and all of us
will have to trade
place by place
memory by memory
until we all fade

So I'll hold you
then
just like I now
hold this pen
steady and assured
together
washed upon human life's
last shore
when all's undone
that once was made
I will hold you
and think
what a comfort
this beautiful fate
 Sep 2018
Blade Maiden

Almost
found a hope that prevails
reaching for me under a starlit tent
Almost
built a boat that sails
across all oceans as they bend
Almost
filled my book with tales
an anthology of moments I didn't attend

Almost
what a terrible word
holding such a stinging truth
Almost
felt like it's all worth the hurt
while wasting years of restless youth
Almost
called out and haven't been unheard
found something I couldn't lose


Almost
thought any path would get me there
where wholesomeness is not just hearsay
Almost
kept a fire in sight that brought me to where
I would find the light of day
Almost
made them proud of me, made them care
made them listen to what I had to say

And now
from where I stand
a lyrical sadness
paper in my hand
I know this is true
                                                            ­             I can almost see you
 Sep 2018
Blade Maiden
The wolves are hungry tonight
and so is she
her heart does know no fright
with her pack she longs to be

Under the bloodmoon
see her limbs grow
her feral body is to swoon
turning wolf into lady from head to toe

Her brothers and sisters sharp teethed
running with the winds of winter
in this cold and star-bright night they will feast
blood smearings in the snow look just like cinder

Hear her song howling through the air
all ice melts underneath her fiery feet
as they catch and bite and tear
lucky ones see her eyes before their demise they meet

'Tis the night of the hunt
benighted men will not run
shouting "Begone! Animal! ****!"
happily she devours them, flayed bodies in the morning sun

She's always lurking, lusting for your smell
Dripping wet her mouth with the juice of life
no one lived for the story to tell
of the wolf woman, dark wood's feral wife
 Sep 2018
winter sakuras
There is such a place, you know--
one that transcends time and space
and visions of what you're supposed to resemble,
and the limits placed by the digits
of your mortal age.

I can feel the presence of it
in my bones,
where the sky is never ending and liberated
and the sun and moon
can openly converse and love and exist,
without the rules of superiors
who like tragic love stories and twisted histories.

Whatever you decide to do, whatever you decide to feel,
there are no restraints
to keep you from the prospects of flying,
or dreaming,
or embracing things that you had to
let go of in another existence.

There is no fear, confusion, or awkwardness,
no doubts of not belonging,
of not deserving to exist in such a place
where your soul can be pure,
and being able to thrive
without having to try so hard
anymore.

You don't have to try anymore to
be a good person,
because you are one.
You don't have to struggle to hold on to yourself,
you don't have to feign ignorance
or enlightenment.

You can breathe and smile openly,
and every smile is so breathtakingly beautiful that
you glow and transcend above all heavens
and insecurities.

The ground is soft and supportive,
giving way to your feet, that no longer
feel so tired and heavy from having to labor to live,
or from constantly running away
from demons and voices
that tear at your conscience and soul.

No, you can now feel as light as air itself,
soft feet running on sunkissed clouds that
formed from tears of happiness.

When it rains,
you don't have to take cover
for it has already washed away all your sorrows and guilts,
guilts in the forms of hot, suppressed tears
in the failures of your lost ambitions
and stolen discoveries,
guilt from turning away, even when someone
asked you for help.

You can forever venture out here,
to unknown, misty, thriving islands and majestic palaces
far away,
you can do things you never got to do,
for you don't have to pretend
to be someone you aren't.

You don't have to live each day questioning
every single telltale of life.

You don't have to wonder anymore
about why the world can be
such a cruel place,
no matter how many rays of hope
reach into the darkness.

You don't have to wonder anymore,
because here
such misery does not exist,
and the ruins of a good soul
dance as a renewed, enlightened being again.

Above all,
you don't have to live someone else's life
because here, you find yourself
over and over
and over again.
07/09/18

The Green of this particular Nirvana is a component that allows you to love and live freely, with no restrictions or heaviness of people weighed down by the world, and themselves.

Here, you are liberated from the faults of others, and the faults of yourself in a time and place where you were ignorant and lost.

Here, there is no society to degrade you. You can exist solely in harmony with nature.

Edit: Wow, I can't believe this poem got chosen to be the Poem of the Day! I've never received so many likes, comments, and feedback on any of my poems, so I feel overwhelmed, but very happy. Thank you for taking the time to read my words; it really means alot to me <3 <3
 Sep 2018
winter sakuras
Oh, human; so many types of you,
I could not fathom my fate if I were to
long so much, work so hard and obtain so little,
facing the sun while
straddling the moon like you do.
You like to be irresistible in every
single, tiny little thing you do, don't you;
from the way you part your lips and smile,
to the way you hold out your rough, aching hands towards me,
planting a tender kiss on my forehead
and asking for my soul in return.
You like to stir up my mind, imploring one thing with me
but then diverging off to explore a
whole entirely different one altogether,
all alone and cold, dripping white glistening
trails of stars all over my arms.
You are always telling me that you need time
to forgive yourself,
to forgive the shards of broken, diamond glass
you pull out of your pockets
and hurl at the ground you tread on,
forgive the blood red roses and green tangled thorns
you wear a top of your head,
blood trickling down curls of ivory hair,
like streaks of winter cherries
flowing down to your shoulders.
They say you like to dance,
stomping all over paradise with
black, jagged leather boots,
and whirling mountains around your fit torso,
gripping the blowing wind
in your arms and forcing it to carry you
as gigantic as you are,
because other things need to
experience oppression too.
Suddenly you are explosively loud when you
claim you're okay/alright,
like those few words hold captive your purpose
of existing beneath the stars,
when all you ever wanted was to be one.
And when you're laughing in your bed,
legs tangled with evergreen whips of dried woven grass,
chest hidden underneath a blanket of cool, violet-blue dawns,
the sight of you is so beautiful and painfully wretched
that I am torn over just laying down with you
or hurdling you off my mountain of life.
If there ever was such a confusion
that loved so passionately, breathed so calmly,
and raged so defiantly
at the mere thought of just existing,
it would be such a creature
as a human.
07/02/18
 Sep 2018
Blade Maiden
Overly emotional
strangely proportional
partly suboptimal
highly improbable

Easily
devided
by truth and anger
and all that subsided

I'm trying
I'm hiding
Bad at denying
I need to feel
I need to scream
mostly defying
the urge to break
the urge to destroy
to disappear, to dissolve
I might be lying

To myself
to myself
My need for leaving or staying
is always unmet
with internal bleeding
my thoughts are paying
and these monsters
in my head
keep eating
Did I really put them there
myself?
Or did it happen back
when I was twelve?

I hear you
but your breath is so cold
I wanted to believe
in anything but you
But I think we got too old
and the house
my heart grew in
has long been sold

And when I'm drinking
you get angry
but what should I do?
My thoughts feel so scattered
and you can't pull me through

I'm trying
I'm fighting
Bad at denying
I need to feel
I need to dream
mostly defying
the urge to fake
the urge to decoy
to reappear, to resolve
I might be lying

to myself
 Sep 2018
Sky
(i only hope that it won't be so sad)

somewhere, in an empty row of trees,
that you still exist
is a truth that i cannot believe

and like the gentle sway of foxtails in the wind,
it is a truth, that can be seen
yet cannot be felt by the heart

when i was young i would squint my eyes and watch
those faraway hills, bobbing in and out of my vision

and as if to say
those faraway days will never return,
the hills in my pillowcase
are easy to see and
ever so close

...

when i close my eyes i begin to dream, what is not a dream but a spring that will one day come to me, and in that spring, looking to find again that empty row of trees, is a scene where i turn my head to home, and unlike some melodrama i can feel the sorrow on my face meanwhile i stare and stare and stare with my heart, yearning to feel something that cannot ever be seen, and that is just like the gentle sway of foxtails in the wind...
translation from a poem i originally wrote in Korean
 Sep 2018
Iska
Scattered memories float past my fingertips collecting like dust upon the stars.
 Sep 2018
Marshal Gebbie
Your eyes hold it all Jonno
The teeming history
The comings and goings
The pain and the plunder.

Joyful recollections
And the visceral laceration of serious battle.
Moments of tenderness
Understanding
and gentle humour
Tickling around the corners of your mouth.

Mile upon mile of endless dusty red road
In northern Australia,
Kangaroos and cold beer.
That debate over whose virginity mattered
And whether or not she cared....

Why, oh why did you tear yourself up
Over Gods part in the game?
He never really showed up, did he?
I recall that race you ran,
Courageously, mile after mile
And still came second to Southey...
How that ****** you off.

That last message...
Your eyes, the most alive part of you,
Saying more than the words could ever say.

Farewell sweet Prince....
In my heart
You shall always be my brother.

M.
3 September 2018
A call,out of the blue, from my old mates daughter, Jasmine, to let me know that Jonno had passed away Thursday last.
Jonno and I went through ****** Agricultural college together back in the early 60s. We competed furiously with each other right across the spectrum. We ran long distance running races (which he won), played Aussie rules football, debated politics, *** and religion, chased the ladies....
We celebrated our difference in a rough house, admirable way as young men. We ran a whitewater rafting and horsetrekking company together, we fought like Killarney cats, tooth and nail, day and night... but always, always...a deep and abiding respect and admiration prevailed.
We were good mates for the lifetime.
M.

Rest in peace old mate.
BARRY JOHNSTON DDA
23 August 2018
Melbourne
 Sep 2018
winter sakuras
Sometimes I get this sensation
as I take my bare feet
and place them
into tight enclosed shoes
to walk a cold grey
concrete path
still rigid to the shards of
   broken dreams
and promises
scattered along the middle,
the sounds of other people's footsteps
drown out my insecurities
and the
insignificance of
a person who feels small
as I try to grasp at merging
into the person full of
light and meaning
who has a spark in her eye,
     destined to do and make great changes
instead of falling into her own world
of isolation and despair
glancing around myself, wondering whether or not
I actually belong
I don't see my name on the board
with my peers
standing in the crowd,
waiting for the crosslight
to let me walk
walk with them to the other side, but
somewhere along the way
do I get lost
or am I just destined to walk
the wrong path
just so I could be with my peers
who are, of course,
the future
who will change the world
who will introduce a revelation that will change
the biased courses of humanity

but as for me

the deafening screams and words of
other people's
lives, moments, recollections
and livelihoods
cover up my hushed pathetic cries
and calls for help
as I question all that is taking place
in every which way I look
somewhere out there
a mom and her growing daughter
become closer
as my own mom falls apart on me
unknowingly ripping apart my right to establish
an identity of my own
somewhere out there
a dad can tell his children
about his life experiences
of the virtues and humility within that led to
their blessed ways of life now
as my own dad
who deserves, at least
everything the world has to give
works harder and harder every day
and every second
to continue our "blessed" ways of life now

but despite all of that

I am told No-- just focus on yourself
make sure you don't miss the crosswalk
make sure you make us proud--
but they don't see
they are what matters
when it comes to
a kid hoping to grow into a better person

there are colors;

some old and chipped
and falling apart,
on the frames of people's
subconscious
while fresh new colors shimmer
in the evening
starlight atop blue waters
just waiting to be discovered, like a
blind person experiencing sight for the first time

but how can I see the night stars
and fall in love with
the moon's beauty
when I'm too busy staring
at the sun
trying to make my way
up to the very top
running, taking jagged steps,
bent over all broken and
crawling

just hoping to be remembered

as a great sign of the times.
08/28/18

I'd be grateful if people lended me some warm words of kindness. I don't get enough to sustain me these days.
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