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740 · Jan 2014
How poets fight
James Jarrett Jan 2014
You should sulk away in shame. You are a bottom feeder pretending to be predacious. Life has shown  that in the order of life you will rapaciously lick the lips of the alpha every time . You mistake your pretension for power, and you and only you make that mistake. Don’t think that any other believes that you are anything more than the absolute bottom of the order. You can cry to all who will listen about your greatness and only the most ignorant will believe; For a while.    Your attempts to empower yourself by belittling others is a pathetic attempt to cover your own inadequacies. Maybe you haven’t realized yet that they can’t be covered, that everyone really can see you for whom you are.    I am amazed that something would mate with you. I can’t believe that one of your slightly more pretentious peers has not taken her from you yet. You are a disgusting example of a human being. You are petty, jealous and cowardly. You are the very definition of anthropomorphism.; You have been attributed with human traits without actually having them. You are lower than an animal and are pathetic.
Bet you were expecting a slap fight.
729 · Apr 2014
Let my blood bleed
James Jarrett Apr 2014
Slowly circling chains

forged with deceit,

hammered out with contempt

are fitted for us.

Freedom bleeds upon

the ground of history

The lifeblood of our nation

darkly pools

As we lay dying

Our choice will be

the chain or the sword

Let my blood bleed

Let me fall

As I will die free
727 · Jan 2014
Sailing into darkness
James Jarrett Jan 2014
I was but a child

When she faded

First grey

Then gone

Into nothingness

And slowly slipped away

To the other side of the mind

Razor blades and bibles

Children cut from books

Kept her smiling

Kept her sailing

Trailing cut mooring lines

Into the dark night

On the other side of the mind.
723 · Apr 2014
Deborah
James Jarrett Apr 2014
Do you know who you are?
You are my heart and my soul
My light and my laughter
The warmth that sparks the consuming flames of my passion
You are the sweet taste of love left moist upon my desirous lips
The fire that burns within my soul that wants to grasp and conquer
You are the want
The need to have all things
You are my reason
My being
My dream and hope
The obsession that gropes from the depths of my soul
But most of all
You are the gentle smile on my lips
That gives me peace and hope and rest
A letter to my love
719 · Apr 2014
Absence of the sun
James Jarrett Apr 2014
In the absence of the sun
I can see the darkness in the human heart,
the silhouetted evil that lies within the soul

Within the confines of the misty gloom,
roam the fettered wraiths
of secret passion

Lustful, wanton desire, the id essential,
haunts the ethereal domain,
cloaked in shimmering gossamer veils

Half realized creatures of the dark
stalk with soundless echoes
the dim corridors of the soul

Unbound, unchained,
the foul, corrupt spirits of dark secret thoughts
wander freely

In the absence of the sun
I am afraid to close my eyes
Circa 1996. Met a guy at a hotel that I swear was a serial killer
710 · Jan 2014
The hearth
James Jarrett Jan 2014
I require no company
save those that gather
'round the warmth
of my fire.
Late at night
hushed talk floats
in the chill air
like wisping tendrils
of smoke.
Faint firelight gropes
at the surrounding darkness
after imparting
it's warmth.
Hours burn as embers
and laughter flickers
like flames.
699 · Mar 2014
Evelyn/Evil
James Jarrett Mar 2014
Eyes emerald green and turquoise blue

Cotton soft, snowy hue

Velvet, velvet, cotton clouds

Steel and razors, shredded shrouds

Warm and gentle, purring, soft

Running, bolting, taking off

Hiss and scream, grow with fright

Teeth of ivory, day is night

Hunt and blood, running in willows

Sleep and purr in blankets and pillows

Whirling, twirling, spitting, springing

Evelyn / Evil always being

The good /bad cat that you are
A children's poem I wrote for the kids. Evelyn had one green eye and one blue one. The green one was the evil one
699 · Feb 2014
10 seconds
James Jarrett Feb 2014
My body has become purpose

My mind numbed

Waiting is now a memory

Fear has forgotten to land on me

And grasp my flesh with it's piercing talons

I move through liquid

Everything slowed but my body

In one moment I will go through that door

10 seconds from death

I feel a sense of exhilaration
698 · Jan 2014
Lies in the hospital room
James Jarrett Jan 2014
My words became
Roses
And made bouquets
To brighten her room
Beautiful red roses
Without any wilted petals
Of sorrow or fear
I left them laying
Strewn carelessly
About her bed
And left the crying
For the cold hallways
696 · Apr 2014
Let it come to war (10w)
James Jarrett Apr 2014
I breathe rage
The fire from my heart
Overflowing
Waiting
693 · Jan 2014
Snakebite
James Jarrett Jan 2014
The serpent has mingled with my blood

As she devours me,

I become her lover

Half lidded eyes

closed with numbness

My body tingles

from her touch

She has me paralyzed

She has left me speechless

Her poison

runs through my veins

I can feel her all over my body

She has become I

And I she

I can feel myself

becoming dead

yet alive

Becoming, Soil, water and sky

All things and none

My soon to be widow

lays across my bed

And Weeping Mary, weeps

As I leave her

for another lover

I am afraid to close my eyes
19 hours in the ER, 3 days in the hospital, 25 vials of anti- venin, 2 1/2 months recovery. Getting your hand out of the way in time……Priceless. Kids don’t try this at home, we are professionals.
691 · Oct 2015
A mother's love
James Jarrett Oct 2015
There is nothing sadder in this world
Than to see a mother sobbing into a baby blanket
It doesn't matter how old he was
Or what he had become
It can never change a mother's love
She breaks my heart
Watching her cry
Sobbing, knowing that he is cold
690 · Aug 2016
How poets fight
James Jarrett Aug 2016
You should sulk away in shame. You are a bottom feeder pretending to
be predacious. Life has shown you that in the order of life, you will
rapaciously lick the lips of the alpha every time . You mistake your
pretension for power, and you and only you make that mistake. Don’t
think that any other believes that you are anything more than the
absolute bottom of the order. You can cry to all who will listen about
your greatness and only the most ignorant will believe; For a while.
Your attempts to empower yourself by belittling others is a pathetic
attempt to cover your own inadequacies. Maybe you haven’t realized yet that they can’t be covered, that everyone really can see you for whom you are. I am amazed that something would actually mate with you. I can’t believe that one of your slightly more pretentious peers has not taken her from you yet. You are a disgusting example of a human being. You are petty, jealous and cowardly. You are the very definition of anthropomorphism.; You have been attributed with human traits without actually having them. You are lower than an animal and are pathetic.
A few years ago I dropped this in a poetry forum full of squabbling
poets as a random rant. They were actually a mean spirited bunch who were preying on less accomplished writers. It was like throwing a frag in there. Each one all thought that it was written about them. I of
course thought the reaction was hilarious. Be careful fencing words
with writers…
686 · Feb 2017
Simple pleasures
James Jarrett Feb 2017
She had become a pale wraith
Just a ghost of the girl gone
Blondness and whiteness faded into one
Dead already
But not yet really
Still breathing
But with no heart beating
Nothing warm or filled with love
Just the pinch of the needle
Stinging in her arm
Her only smile
For that pleasure
But that too would soon be gone
And she would be cold and still
And she would wait in her bed
Frozen like a statue
Waiting for someone to find her
And consign her to the ground
683 · Mar 2014
Beneath the mountain
James Jarrett Mar 2014
Leave alone what lies beneath the mountain

The labyrinthined caves and deep burning fire

Take instead the cold stinging creeks

The summer pines and pale blue sky

Take the rocky trails and sharp stone

And all the beauty for your eye

But don't stray below and leave alone

What lies beneath the mountain
680 · Feb 2014
Depression (10)
James Jarrett Feb 2014
Wonder if
I would hear
The hammer
Hit the primer
677 · Feb 2014
Unbowed
James Jarrett Feb 2014
Breathe freedom
Even if it be
Your last breath
Fill your lungs
With the taste
Of free air
And bloodied grass
Breathe the gasps
Unchained
Unbowed
Meet the fate of all
Free on the ground
675 · May 2014
Judith
James Jarrett May 2014
I always wondered where her love went
It was like it was bled from her
A slit vein that ran dry
I was the only one that she gave it to
And I was young and greedy
And I think that I took it all
Used it up
A hungry pup nursing at the ****
And there was none left over for anyone else
She became withered and dry
And by the time her own children came
That love had been replaced by hate
Maybe it had just been killed
And that hate was like the darkness
That is already in a room
Just waiting for the light to be turned off
And then it takes over everything
It didn't help
That it had been infused with ****** along the way
Shot sweating late at night in a seedy room
Or in the parking lot behind the *******
But something had turned that love to hate
Solidified it in her veins
Until she was nothing
No voice
No heartbeat
Nothing
She became a statue
Just hard stone
And the sad part is that she had four babies
Who tried to nurse from her cold stone ***
And tried to get some of the love that I had
But it was long used up and gone
And they had to try and survive and live
With nothing to feed on but that cold hate
And they all survived for the most part
Except for Amber
Poor Amber
In the end, I think the hate finally got her
675 · Jan 2014
Warrior child
James Jarrett Jan 2014
Love of my soul

I see you now only in my dreams

Yet my heart holds you dear

My love for you whispers upon the midnight wind

My tears are moonbeams raining on you

Soft starlight in the night sky is my gaze

Wherever you tread upon this earth

I am with you

Papa
674 · Mar 2014
Evelyn
James Jarrett Mar 2014
My love is not lost on her
in twilight's fading light
As darkness slowly blankets
her softly ebbing life
She cries to me quietly
lying in my bed
My body is her pillow
for one final night
I cradle her as a child
and gently call her name
As dawn comes
and darkness
fades to light
night slowly falls...
upon my friend

Goodnight my friend
Evie was 21 and my most favored cat of all times, even though she broke every porcelain item I held dear, including a late 17th century tea *** and my late father's coffee cup.   Through out our life together she found out that I was rather dim witted and difficult to train. It took her a full 10 yrs. to train me to figure out what her every want and whim was so I could cater to her.
668 · Jan 2016
Larissa
James Jarrett Jan 2016
I thought of her one day

Walking in the woods

Between the sun and shade

My wild child

My little Celtic beauty

Beautiful and strong

Her blonde hair

Flying in the wind

With a smile on her face

And mine

We had raced through

The narrow streets

On roaring steel

Wanton daredevils

Without fear or care

I smiled as the wind

Ruffled through my hair

Gently whispering memories

And wondered

Where

My wild child

Had gone
660 · Feb 2018
28 Years
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
656 · Apr 2014
The festive table
James Jarrett Apr 2014
The festive table
Stands alone
Robed in it's finest
Holiday garments
But there is no warm glow
Of flickering light
And laughter
No spiced scents
Drifting through
Like candied wraiths
It stands alone and empty
The cold harsh light of day
Casting it's shadow on the floor
Last year we moved the holiday table into the garage to make room for guests in the house. It was a rather sad sight and made me think of all those who have their first holiday without their loved one. Yes, I do know that I am a sap...
637 · Apr 2014
Under the cold moonlight
James Jarrett Apr 2014
Under the cold moonlight
I lost the love of God
'Though I prayed
I lost more than faith
While she cried
Looking through a telescope
Into that black sky
Hoping that the moon
So magnified
Would bring her
Closer to God
But her small prayers
Went unanswered
And her telescope
Lies in my closet
No closer to God
Than she ever was
And I can never look upon it
Open those doors
Without wanting to cry
For my Lyric love
635 · Mar 2014
Retroactive abortion
James Jarrett Mar 2014
It's hard to believe
in fate
Until it happens
Blood on blood
Running on your skin
Dark tattoos of pain
On your soul
On your floor
You bleed
until you can bleed
no more
You bleed until
You are empty
An oldie but goodie
632 · Jan 2016
Lies in the hospital room
James Jarrett Jan 2016
My words became
Roses
And made bouquets
To brighten her room
Beautiful red roses
Without any wilted petals
Of sorrow or fear
I left them laying
Strewn carelessly
About her bed
And left the crying
For the cold hallways
2014
630 · Apr 2014
One step closer to war
James Jarrett Apr 2014
Life lived at any cost is just not for me.  I just can’t accept the concept of “bow down and you will be spared”.   There are greater things in life than just breathing air. Things like liberty and honor , the great ideas of men, are more important than the empty life of a drone worker. There are people who will give up anything, or anyone just to continue living a miserable existence.   Who the hell accepts the life of a slave? Certainly not me. Give me death as I fight you, you tyrant ****.   The innate rights that are granted by your creator? Those are nothing if you are not willing to fight for them. I wasn’t given the right to be free… I was given the right to fight to be free. That was what was breathed into me along with my breath and life; The fire of freedom.  I wasn’t born with a bill of rights in my hand; I was born with a hand that could write them. I was born with a hand that could make a weapon and use it if my freedom is oppressed. I was born with a fire that will not accept subjugation. I was born with a fire that will make me fight to remain free. That fire of freedom will only leave me when the last breath is pressed from my chest.    There may be a lot of tough choices coming up for people here shortly, but not for me. That choice for me was made many years ago, that choice was birthed into this world right along side of me.  “Victoria Aut Mors”
620 · Aug 2016
In Memorium
James Jarrett Aug 2016
Gone from this body
And flown
To fairer places
With no pain or travail
Gone but for the memory
And love left behind
Gone but for legacy and legend
Gone but for us
The three percent
Left behind
Mike Vanderboegh founder of the Three percent movement
620 · Aug 2016
The lost Tango
James Jarrett Aug 2016
I  remember

When we still danced like we were young

Under the silvered moon 'round the crackling fire

Spilling wine and laughter

Late into the night

Our own private party

Until the dawn of the day

When we still danced

Like we were young
death love loss marriage sorrow
James Jarrett Mar 2014
So you say
While my sweat and blood
Feed the hungry ground
My broken bones
Toil behind the plow
So you say
While you lay
And feed your hunger
And cry about
Your pain
So you say
While I feed you
Yet another day
And watch you drive away
In the car
That I own
614 · Nov 2015
Mother's tears
James Jarrett Nov 2015
He is gone now
Returned to dust
All that is left of him
Are his mother's tears
Tears that she cries in torrents of pain
Late at night when all others sleep and dream
She rocks in the old rocking chair
Weeping and sobbing
There is no comfort for her
Knowing that he is gone
His place on this earth vanished
The life that she gave no longer existing
All that is left of him now
Are his mothers tears
To my wife, my love. May time someday take your pain. I love you.
606 · Mar 2014
Childhoods end
James Jarrett Mar 2014
Hollow, haunted, hurting eyes staring at
the ceiling.
Cold, hard, white tile floor a pillow
for my head.
Last gasping, grasping tendrils of reason
slipping from my brain.
Oh the bite of bitter steel; sweet and
welcome pain.
An outstretched palm, ungrasping fingers,
nerve and tendon showing.
A smile of peace, a sob of despair;
blood is thickly flowing.
I close my eyes and now I see that this
is childhoods end; Wasted lives, broken
people and shattered dreams that never mend.
This is the first poem I ever wrote.
604 · Aug 2014
Why spring?
James Jarrett Aug 2014
Why was I given this one season only?
Why tempestuous spring with its hard storms blowing, angry and unstable skies tearing down and touching the earth itself, throwing fields of earthen debris into clay colored skies, melding the two into one.

Could I not have summer with its long lazy days and deep blue skies, with rocking chairs creaking on wide wooden porches and  lush green meadows among the white skinned birch trees, so close to a rocky creek that you can hear its tenor and ****** as it rushes downstream to gladly fill it’s moss covered banks

Or maybe the red and yellow of fall, with the crisp cutting air biting pleasantly in your lungs as you bellow out in the red rising sun, like a locomotive cutting through the wide open prairie, slicing the  amber openness like a knife , puffing steam and smoke like a dragon as your track vivisections the countryside

Could I not be given the white and cold winter, with its black skies, punctured by burning blue stars, as the fireplace roars out warmth in snapping and crackling dances of orange, surrounded by stone and wood, the still whiteness, muffled by snow and night outside the windows, that stare with red glow into the carpeted forest, hung heavy and damp with snow

Why spring and only spring, with pregnant clouds heavy laden with dark blue storms, hanging from their belly and the threat of tempest, just waiting to lay down their tearing winds and pouring rains

Why spring with its fickle beauty and warmth that can turn so quickly into a deluge that floods the earth and wipes away the burgeoning beauty that it has just created, roiling across rippled soil, dancing like silvered fish in glaring bursts of blue lightning

Why spring, that after all it’s hard blowing and storms it just fades away into nothing?
James Jarrett Jul 2014
I do everything to see her happy
Because her smile
Lights a glow in my heart
It shines on me like
The warm spring sun
Making me feel better
To my bones
I do everything to wipe the tears
From her inner child
Those tears that
Never should have been
Kiss her cheek
And make it better
Be the man
She should have had
Love and protect her
Care for her
Let her laugh
Make her smile
Because her smile
Shines like the sun
To my love, the strongest and boldest woman I know who still hurts deep down inside
600 · Aug 2016
The deep end
James Jarrett Aug 2016
I should have stayed in the shallow end of the pool
Getting nothing wet but my feet and legs
Risking nothing more than a chill
But I'm drowning
Choking on all of the right choices I've made
I'm drowning on all my loyalty and love
My lungs are filling and I die
I die
The air that I try to breathe
It's not air
And my lungs fill while I panic
Clamping,biting and heaving
And I'm in the deep end of the pool
Drowning
Feet trying to find the bottom
Drowning on people dying and hurting
Drowning in all the pain that they are not willing to face
And I'm under the water with no way out
And I don't know what's worse
To die and stifle and suffocate
Or to wade in the shallow end of the pool
And not care and just watch
While everyone else
Slowly goes under
599 · Jan 2017
The Waiting Room
James Jarrett Jan 2017
She moves through the darkness

Alive yet dead

In sheeted glory she breathes without life

Bleeding without battle, she fights

I wait and wait

I hope

It is a battle I cannot fight

My skills cannot persevere

Though sword and knife

Are easy to my hand

I wait

I trust the skill of another

Who's knife gives life

I hope that she can fight

She is all that I have

I wait
596 · Jan 2014
It sucks to be a poet
James Jarrett Jan 2014
Some days it *****

To be a poet

To have words

Softly banging

In your head

Clouding your sight

With visions

Of things pictured

Or perceived deep

Within your brain

Incomprehensible

And duplicitous

Swirling and straining

To chain

Into verse or prose

The Goddesses of words

Unasked and uninvited

Laboring in your mind

Squatted down and

Birthing broken strings

Of words

That linked correctly can

Make them demi- gods

Half God

And

Half lyric

Spelling out the Iliad

Perhaps…

But you are left

Walking through the day

In a daze

Quietly tasting words

As they flood

Into your mouth

And onto your lips

From the jumbled maze

Inside your brain
594 · Mar 2014
Chumley the cat
James Jarrett Mar 2014
Whilst strolling through the woods one day to while away the time
I came across a creature, orange furred and fine
He had pointed ears and bright green eyes
And a tail that kept in time

He sat on the path quite relaxed and squarely in my way
He did not move, he did not budge, he would not let me pass
"Good day to you and how do you do?" Said I in my merry way
"But please move aside, as you've broken my stride
and let me continue with my day"

"Hello"  Said he, as he sat on the path, in a soft and purring way
"Let me introduce myself, my name is Chumley and I am your cat
I'm pleased to meet you, pleased to see you, so glad to be your cat"

"It's a fine thing you've done and a fine man you are
to walk your cat through the forest
A cat could ask for no finer master, could find no better man.
So, let's finish our stroll on this beautiful day and continue on our way"

"Hold on!" Said I, quite taken aback " For surely you are mistaken.
I have no creatures great or small and most certainly not a cat. You are wrong good sir, a mistake I,m sure, for I know that we've never met."

"Oh master!" Said he, with a sorrowful cry "What is it that I've done? Whatever would make you treat me so, the pet who has been like a son?"

"Step aside!" Said I, becoming irate "The day is fading, the hour is late.
You are not my pet, I know for sure, your mind is muddled, go find a cure! Now move from my way and allow me to pass. I've had enough of you blocking my path!"

A tear seemed to form in his green hued eyes
and next when he spoke he asked me why; why after all these years
would I forget a pet of mine

I'd had enough and told him so "Move from my way and let me go!
I've things to do and things to see, begone from my path and let me be!
You've wasted enough of my walking time, now out of my way, you are not mine!"

The cat finally spoke in a wavering voice " I will leave you alone you give me no choice.
But I will always remember our time together, long nights in bed and walks the wood.
I will always remember the love and the good

Later that night, I'd dined and I'd supped, I'd closed the curtains
and turned up the light
I thought of that cat I'd met earlier that day
The thought of him would not go away

I sat at my table, full from my meal, of bread and cheese and wine and veal
I wondered if he hungered, whether he had any meat.
So just to be sure I put a bowl at my feet......
For my cat Chumley


Copyright 1989 James Timothy Jarrett
This was written for a children's book with hand drawn illustrations. The story itself was written at work on post it notes. Every stanza that I finished I would slip to my wife who worked at the same place.    If you have ever come across the cat that insists that he is your pet and is going home with you, you get it.
591 · Feb 2014
As love gives
James Jarrett Feb 2014
I once cared for you

And loved

And gave

As love gives

All that I had

And you gave in return

Your cold smile

And empty words

That promised nothing

But love

And now you have become

Nothing

But a bitter memory
590 · Jan 2014
Days gone by
James Jarrett Jan 2014
Days gone bye
That I can never
Exchange
Still haunt me,
Stalk me
In the still
Dark forest
Of my sleep
Weaving ‘Tween
The trees of memory
Like late
Morn’  fog
Leaving
Trails in the darkness
Of my long
Forgotten pain
I stay lost
Blissfully
In the dark
Damp of night
585 · Jun 2014
Agnes
James Jarrett Jun 2014
Friend of my youth with many glories shared

Confidant of my soul and comfort in my arms

My ear hears the saddest thing of all

Where once beat that true heart

Where my head lay to sleep and peace

I hear hollow, thundering silence
I think that dogs are the sweetest and most loyal creatures on the face of this earth. It really ***** when you have to take that final listen to verify that they are gone. And yes, I am aware that I write about anything.
584 · Jan 2014
Texas girl
James Jarrett Jan 2014
She doesn’t care

If I think about her

But I do

As the sky runs from

Blue to red

And the sunset bleeds out its final hues

Power lines and traffic

Distracting with electric hum

The bustle and blur of modern life

That interjects and controls

But I do

And will

In between the weaving lines of traffic

Crossing dotted lines

That mar my sunset

And sometimes dull my mind

I always will

I can’t help it

She’s my Texas girl
For my beloved niece Shonnie
581 · Apr 2014
Poems of love
James Jarrett Apr 2014
Her kiss

Spoken softly

Onto my lips

Recites me poems of love

Wild with passion

Told to my tongue

And I listen

And listen
577 · Dec 2014
Let it come to war II
James Jarrett Dec 2014
Outrage turned to anger
Overflowed and out the door
Let it start here
Let it start now
Let it come to war
Lay down their bodies
And burn fires in the night
Fan the flames of fury
With smoke and wind and might
Savage thirst in righteous quest
Will not rest until it's quenched
Let it start here
Let it start now
Let it come to war
572 · Mar 2014
Not A-mused
James Jarrett Mar 2014
Maybe I have nothing to say today
But you won't accept that
You secretly slip words into my brain
Like a tongue sliding between closed lips
Suddenly and unexpected
A moment of shock and surprise
Yes, I went to peck you on the cheek
And you slipped me the tongue
Maybe I don't want your words kissing me
Your passion pouring in my mouth
Hot and torrid
Sliding soft and wet on my lips
Maybe today I want to be left alone
But you won't accept that
You are always nagging me
Good morning!
567 · Dec 2014
Reserve
James Jarrett Dec 2014
The cut is too much
The **** to my love
Fatal
The life blood
Has drained
From the deep wounds
Of my heart
Left in a dark pool
To cool and become
Lifeless
And something else
And now
I can't touch her anymore
I can't reach her heart
Or let her reach mine
I can't have her hands
On my heart again
I can't let her hold it
I can't Feel her love again
Because this time
I don't if I will survive
My Lyric love, I can't ever stop loving you, even if I try. Papa
565 · Sep 2014
A letter to my father
James Jarrett Sep 2014
How can I rip poetry from my soul for you?
You are part of me and so is your poetry , rooted deep within my being
I cannot put that emotion into words
The best that I can do is tear out a raw, quivering, ****** lump of feeling
You are my rock, my strength, my laugh, my goodness, my caring,
All of the good things that I am
You are my love, immovable, everlasting
You are my security and protection
The roughness of you in my memory,the scent in my nostrils,
Your face always before my eyes
You are my father, even though you are not
You loved me
Even though you didn't have to
You are gone and God, the price I would pay
For one laugh or smile
One word of good cheer or uplifting
One story
Or one joke.
I love you
564 · Mar 2014
Last night meant nothing
James Jarrett Mar 2014
I reached out to touch her
And nothing was there
Her soft warmth
Was missing
Even the ghost
That she left in the bed
When she slipped away
Late in the night
Was gone
That wraith of heat
And scent that lingered
On in the sheets
Was missing
That spot that I could feel
And know
That she had just been there
There was nothing now
But the cold
My hand touched
Nothing
Someday I realized
That this would be forever
That there would be more
Cold
Than I could bear
Last night meant
Nothing
It was only
Anger blowing like the wind
Disturbing the night
Throwing leaves and debris
In the darkness
I rushed home to find her
Soft and warm
Nestled in our bed
And put her skin
Beneath my kiss
And held her warmth
And softness
In my arms
My hands feeling her
Caressing her
Beneath the sheets
Last night meant
Nothing
Nothing at all
Yeah, late night
562 · Apr 2014
Heaven
James Jarrett Apr 2014
I stood upon a mountain top and breathed the

ethereal air and watched the lofty dreams of

men, a shimmering misty veil. And upon the

the cold uncaring winds I heard their rising

prayers. Cries of mourning, admonishment, , joy

and fear, sailing upwards into the heavens

to be swallowed up by the billowing clouds.

Again I listened and 'lo came the voices of

insanity, a multitude of babble, swirling and

flickering like a grey pallor of smoke on

fire driven wings.And here in this place

gathered all the hopes and dreams and

despairs of men.Cold and bitter but with the

radiant sun shining brightly on them.And I

knew surely that upon these immortal granite

peaks, that men struggled upwards, gasping,

grasping for handholds, sweating, swearing,

falling, groping, rising, packed with all their

livelihood upon their backs, reaching ever

for the snow covered summit.
562 · Mar 2014
New sons of liberty
James Jarrett Mar 2014
Shall we all stand idly by as our country erodes
watching day to day as our freedom wanes
and our precious republic fades to nothing?
Have none the courage or foresight to care or fight?
Shall we sit back in idle content
as shackles are slowly forged around our ankles?
I say not!  I say that this thing that we have,
this unique experiment called freedom,
is too great a thing to perish.
We are a nation of kings;
Every man born to rule what he can.
We, America, took the sovereignty of the monarchs
and then set their crowns upon the head of every citizen.
Shall we now give that crown back?
Shall we cede the freedom paid for in the blood of our ancestors?
I say not!
I say let the battle be enjoined!
Let the forces that work against us,
against freedom and liberty,
meet us on those bloodstained fields of freedom;
For we will fight and in this fight prevail.
Let us march towards those fields now,
with honor
for the  many who  have fallen there before us.
Let us take this sacred duty,
the protection of the freedom of all men,
and march toward our destiny.
We are all the new sons of liberty.
I think it is obvious that I am no fan of the growing police state and believe that it will end very badly. It does not matter who is in charge of it as it is taking on a life of it's own. It is becoming hauntingly similar to the bureaucracy described by Vaclev Havel in "The power of the powerless"
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