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James Jarrett Dec 2018
Why do you lie

While I sleep?

Telling things

That I should keep

Oh, Drunken pen

Trailing ink

Telling stories while I drink

Where are you

When I wake?

Gone, gone

But the ink

Just the ink

On paper traced

nothing left

But stories, Stories,

To be told

In the dark

Never, ever to be shown

in the light of day

But drunken pen

Why do you,

Yet sober stay

So far and  far away?
James Jarrett Nov 2018
And in the sky
Floats all the breath
Of every man who has ever lived
Or ever died
Pasted onto the pale blue wind
Sometimes raining
Sometimes shading
But always and forever there
James Jarrett Nov 2018
I wouldn't write
Not a word, Nay one
Until she caught me in the corridor
A dark hallway for sure
And put her blade to me
Sharp and cold
To the hilt
One push
One twist
To make me feel the pain
So now
And only now
Do I sing
James Jarrett Feb 2018
And all that time
And all that love
In the end
Came to mean nothing
And the dreams of the young
Oh, those passions
Died on the beaches
Shot down storming life
Killed as surely as any man
Put to their end
And they bled out
All that they had
Tattooing the sand
With all their crimson hopes
Until the next tide
Erased them all
In shifting colored eddies
And washed them out to sea
To be gone forever
James Jarrett Feb 2018
Not many marriages survive the death of a child
And now you and I
All old love aside
Are buried on that mound
Just as dead as he is
Just as cold and hard
We could not survive
And all we are now
Instead of you and I
Is just another statistic
James Jarrett Jan 2018
I'm hoping that she lives now in the green pasture
That's nestled into the curve of the forest
Outside of the dappled dewy shade
And hued moistness
The blue sky running like water above
And the lazy trickling creek running it's course below
All the red clay gone
Cut through to shale and rock
By the water that cares nothing but to run
I hope that she has a place here
A place in the meadow in the Sun
A place to be warm
After all the cold she had in life
Poor Amber never made it out. Drugs and abuse are  a hell of a thing
James Jarrett Jan 2018
Do I dare to dream
To aspire to those lofty
heights from which I could fatally plummet?

Ah, but the air is crisp and the sky is
blue upon that misty summit

And it calls to my desire to have the world
beneath my feet

But if I am again to dream I first must rest and sleep
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