Jack R Fehlmann

Dec 2014

r

19

when my son was younger
he asked -

how old are the mountains
from where did the First People come
why does the sun sleep in the ocean
what is the color of rain

now that my son is older
stronger, wiser and bolder
he asks -

how old are the mountains...
...what is the color of rain

some things don't change.

r ~ 11/30/14

Hey, Son. :)

Dec 2014

LittleFreeBird

A Poet Is

A piece of you
Reflecting back
The bitter words in your mouth
Too raw to speak
A poet is
Someone in pain
And someone in love
Someone who looks at the world
Through a kaleidoscope
Who takes a magnifying glass to each
And every
Word you say
And lets them imprint on their heart
A poet is
A star gazer
A dreamer
A chaser of
The improbable
But hopes anyway
A poet is
Tissue paper skin
A heart of glass
And a soul of titanium

A poet is
A sharp tongue
And a gentle kiss
She is a sob
He is a sigh
A poet is
The sun at midnight
Bright and
Burning
Hot
Alive
But cloaked in a darkness
They cannot shake
The brightest day
And the darkest night
A poet is
The human experience
A paradox
An oxymoron
So complicatedly
Simple

A poet is
A lover
Who refuses
To stop wearing their heart on their sleeve
No matter how much it bleeds
But rolls them up
So you can’t see
The blood stains

A poet
Is Poetry

Jack R Fehlmann Dec 2014

Lights

would have all of me
No doubt all of us.
everything,
turns out tomorrow,..

Proof will come
to surface
To be shown,
What, if all,.. if
not all,..
To be
If any of,..
like minded,
endless,
Optimistic reason.

is so to come
Then to become,
if we
miss
our way,
and though
untouched
Avatars
of our imaginations
of these
even
Is brought to us
Made then
her body
So lovely.
over
mine I beg,
And suffer
virtual longing
Hopes of
Out meeting.
The valid
potential found
In every wavelength.
Made up
of
And brought by
The first light
inches, miles,
light
minutes,
years
A borne universe
inclined
to hold its
secrets

Still working on it.

#mind #unplanned

Jack R Fehlmann Dec 2014

T H R I V E

To joke around,
Oh,..  I don't know...
How do you?
Any day,
Any night,
This broken globe might,
Recoil back down on itself.
And the world we know,
Will only be available
When around the campfire.
When we take turns
Spinning impossible tales,
To those to new,  to little,
Innocent and too late
To know, to have lived
Once in a world without having
Passing on, how to go on with so little
Where to find another meal.
The trick to calling fire,
Who to help and those that take
All about arrows and bows,
Firing guns and survival.

You mess around now,
So secure, so very very sure,
That this might be folly
What day you when the works of man
And power falls to those with knowledge and expertise at thriving
Will they, well will I,..
Help those,  like you?

Jack R Fehlmann Dec 2014

Unlike the First & the Second

I'm doing this backwards it seems.
         This living, this life, this exhistance...
If that really is, what it is,... A gift, or a punishment?
         Similar to to *******, self gratification, that first one,..
                  Never another, not even the immediate second,..
After the first of anything,
           Has been,...  Is done,... Gets finished,...
                             Is experienced for the very first time,...
                                            The next and next and next,  the second...
              and on and on and on and on... are much much less intense.
More understood, less mysterious,... Less amazing,...  more like practice.

Dec 2014

Ocean Blue

You Jewel

<3 <3 <3

After I lost you once
In the dark folds of life,
Suddenly you are back,
Here in my open palm.
I am never, never tired
To see how your rays glow,
Day after day always amazed
How much in my heart your grow,
How high its pulses you've raised.
You are a Jewel,
For whom so many times I fell.
Now let us shine together,
If you wish, one day and forever.

<3 <3 <3

Jack R Fehlmann Dec 2014

If I Am; Someday Maybe

If I'm the guy who waits,
is there some way?
Cause here I am,
I was, I remain.
The aging clocks face,
ticks out each second passed,

and here I am regardless.

Caught up in fairy tale nostalgia,
forgiven all the wrongs,
hurt endured,
selecting only the best
and cherished
fleeting
flickers of glimpses
at night
just as I fade
to the place where you still come

there too, not always pleasant.
Sometimes I wake and ache so bad
but the cause of that is you
Will I ever turn you out,
face away?
Is this time squandered,
wasted, fruitless?
Or one day are we going to be, again?
Am I okay with no love unless,
unless...
if nothing changes,
distance remains,
who to blame
but my own cowardice.

Some day,
. . . . . . . . . one day,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . maybe,

hearts can change