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Between us lies
An empty space.

How could we know
How great the gulf would grow?

I carried the strain.
You would not share my burden,

Now find me
An unwilling host.

I have found a rare mutation
Spliced, we are perfection.

Uninfected, we evolve.
 Feb 2015 James Jarrett
Xyns
What is, for you,
A raindrop
In a puddle

Is, for me,
A hurricane
Over the ocean

What is, for you,
A crack
In the pavement

Is, for me,
The beginning
Of an earthquake

What is, for you,
A simple,
Minute step

Is, for me,
A monumental,
Colossal devotion
Love is setting
Both your feelings
     And a person free.*

© 2015 J.S.P.
Draft. Making sense out of palindromes.
I dream in
The colours of the palette you have gifted
my eyes see

New colours
Not-like-red and not-like-blue

Like the new love
not of the seven kinds
ever more than Eros and

Familial,
cerebral,
Celestial fantastical

Breathe, breathe, breathe
in gasps and
small
bewildered
shudders.

Coming

To see that
You have set me
Free.
 Feb 2015 James Jarrett
GaryFairy
looking back at my past
none of those hearts were ever mine
only the arrow was meant to last
embedded in my fractured spine

love lost is better than love never found
I see no difference in the two
hindsight is far less confound
foresight can be a hopeful fool

looking back at my past
only my heart was truly mine
love affairs, i've had my last
another broken valentine
 Feb 2015 James Jarrett
Jeanette
i.
Watch me in some corner of a dimly lit bar,
you will not recognize me;
I look the same, it's just that
when I laugh my face resembles
that of another woman.
ii.
I left my job 4 months ago and have done nothing but
climb every mountain.
I watch the sun drown the city I hate and
it emerges beautiful, and wavering;
Glowing in the dark is
the only way I know how to love it.

From the top,
I count every room I have ever slept in
one, two, three, four, five, & six;
The only thought I can hold is that
of the spilled cups on wooden nightstands
iii.**
I am selfish, I am endless wasted days.

Sorry for writing you after so long
but I  guess I just miss
the person I was when
you still knew where to find me.
 Feb 2015 James Jarrett
Letiisbae
Roses are red,
Violets aren't blue,
Violets are violet,
Not ******* Blue.
The bright, yellow paint is chipping.
The  ivy vines are climbing the walls.
The war had started and it was abandoned.
A once beautiful house neglected in fear.

The windows are broken
and the door is hanging by one hinge.
A tornado had come through here.
A tornado of men, guns and turmoil.

Clothes were strewn across the house
Antiques were shattered on the floor.
The war had killed the beauty of this house,
but had enhanced the tortures of its story
The story of a peaceful family.

A table flipped and dinnerware on the ground.
A teenage boy dead on the floor.
****** handprints on the walls and bullet holes in the stairs.
A broken railing and a dead man at the top.
Shot gun shells and holes in the destroyed door.
A woman lay dead by the edge of a cradle.
The mothers blood slicked down the edge of the bassinet
A blood soaked mattress
And a baby that lay unmoving with a torn and ****** onesie.

The destruction of this war is terrifying
and the World War 2 veteran can’t erase the scenes from his mind.
They stick with him as he ages until the day he joins the peaceful family
in the land of the dead.
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