Jack Raynes: Poems

Good Man.

Jack Raynes Sep 2014

Hammer in my right hand, chisel in my left.
Observing the rock, pondering my next move.
A little off the side, a chunk on top, a leg.
Slow pecking, a harsh construction, a win, a loss.
My brain tries to recognize the creation.
A memory forgotten, an old influence.
Chisel aimed at the chest, a clue.
Something seems to be coming through.

#goodthinkingchange

Swollen (WiP)

Jack Raynes Sep 2014

Swollen (WiP)

You've gone away
swollen leather bag dragging on sand
stretchered stitches, padded heat
a weekend drunk tearing the incomplete
the fear that falls glide through my hands
paper instructions with my future plans
a Tuesday writing, a playful reigniting
to the swollen bag of memories
An awful spell for metamorphosis
releasing the tie, fearing the tide
no longer need proof, nobody needs to know
the history of a boy sent into the darkness below
now a man created through tiresome history
on to a new journey, inventory, the mystery
mechanically or chemically
Never to return, afraid no more
I'm going to remember the past and relive the day
I've gone away.

The Rhythm

Jack Raynes Sep 2014

The Rhythm

I lie in your shared bed listening to the soft music you need to sleep.
Your nightlight illuminates shadows on the wall.
I can hear your body going to sleep. The rhythm.
The air is cool and the blanket is heavy.
The smell of fresh laundry, and your breathing becomes heavier.
I can hear trucks passing on the highway.
The wind streams into the bedroom.
The rhythm. I'm wide awake.

#nightsleeplovelostsilencewillfall

— The End —