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410 · Sep 2016
Tuna?
Jamison Bell Sep 2016
Sometimes.
I like to imagine the world drenched in fire and carnage. The woeful screams of the entitled ****** echoing through the once fertile plains of the Midwest.
As I casually stroll amidst the piles of decaying rotting flesh whistling to myself. The smell of burnt hair and regret permeating the air around me. Smoke and ash choking out the Suns rays letting darkness reign.
And then my show comes back on so I go back to eating my sandwich and watching tv.
Jamison Bell Aug 2022
I, I don't know
I suppose
I suppose I do it for the pale blue dragonflies.
Translucent wings that shimmer in the light of a setting sun over a quiet river of gun metal grey.
The bats. They flutter about like scraps of a night you wish you could revisit.
I do it for the girl sitting alone at the end of the bar.
Freshly painted fingers spinning a beer while her eyes dance between her phone and the window.
For the ones that feel so alone they wouldn't recognize the sound of their own voice.
I write.
407 · Nov 2018
Freya
Jamison Bell Nov 2018
I don’t have to build her a castle, she won’t come out of the one she has.
High grey walls that loom over any chance at ever getting in.
Tapestries of blood and night rain down over the sides.
I want to wash her face with stained glass on a summers eve
Sleeping before the gates amidst the bones of those before me
She dances with the vapors of the her elixirs that warm her
Alluringly and whimsically luring me to an irresistible demise
The idea of love hushed silent by the fear of an inevitable fate
Now there’s only emptiness, a coldness that pervades
A sullen heart
405 · Jun 2017
Burning Bridges
Jamison Bell Jun 2017
They seem so sturdy,
these bridges.
You want to believe they're made of iron.
Weathering storms and time.
Until you see how fast they go up.
A firestorm of things that can't be unsaid.
Licking at the support beams.
By the dew soaked grass the next morning.
You see the charred remains smoldering.
Another bridge.
Gone.
Who's next?
403 · Aug 2016
The Hummingbird
Jamison Bell Aug 2016
You could sit down and write a thousand words or none at all.
And it would still befit her.
You could detail for the reader everything you know.
And then call it fiction.
Why?
She is love incarnate.
Jamison Bell Jun 2016
There used to be this hill upon which I would sit.
I'd watch the stars every night I could as they waltzed across the sky.
I watched Apollo mount his chariot and Ra he did the same.
My favorite nights were when the gods would battle with swords of fire off in the distance.

I thought about that night the night wept.
She was alone, as if it had just occurred to her.
She didn't look at me when I sat on the bed next to her.
She embraced me and cried. It wasn't the "I just found out Tiffany bought the same shoes I did" cry.
It was her heart. The pain was too much to bear.

Forever upon this hill were my four horsemen.
Pestilence, Famine, Disease, and Death.
Steadfast in awaiting my orders they heed in limbo.
And when the day comes when I've had enough.
(ok so the horsemen were just four trees in close proximity but it's my ****** hill so they're horsemen)

I used to imagine being able to walk on the clouds.
Not those whispy ones. Obviously not structurally sound.
No, those big puffy ones. Climbing over them as if they were albino boulders.
Taking ***** on my enemies. Because so would you.

I fell in love three times on this very hill.
And as many times as I paced that ****** hill.
Wouldn't you know it? There was never any love to be found.
In all fairness though. I'm not smart enough to recognize it either.

I never liked the wind upon my hill so high.
Oh sure, every time it got windy the blades of grass would break out into this impromptu synchronized dance montage.
It just had a way of distracting me from my thoughts.

I still think about this hill. It sits on high upon a sill.
It's there this hill must stay. Upon this sill so far away.
I go there in my mind you see. To bury my thoughts or set them free.
I'm taking you there one day too soon.
Don't make plans that afternoon.

I wrote those lines up on that hill. Words like that don't rhyme at will.
**** it and **** I am getting off topic!
This is worse than when I wrote that biopic.
Focus kid, I know you're high. Just make it look pretty and say your goodbye.

My lushly green haired knuckle cocked up from the ground.
It's where you find me should you need me. But that's it. You'll never need me.
Don't worry about it. Because she's up here with me.
And there are no questions. Just laughter.
This poem was brought to you by Isolation. Put it on a sandwhich. Clean grease off your lamps. A useful substitute for play doh or ******. Find it today in the "***" aisle of your local bazaar.
399 · Apr 2016
You
Jamison Bell Apr 2016
You
I can't tell you which star is which.
Only because I don't know.
I can tell you how it feels. To touch one.
It's soft and warm. Think early spring.
That tingling feeling. Couple that with the good kind of nervous.
Never will my heart beat so fast whilst I remain perfectly at ease.
I don't care what we talk about. Just so long as we keep talking.
The mythology behind the blood orchids or Marie Curie.
If I fall asleep, I'll just pick up where we left off in my dreams.
I don't know where that river goes.
I know I can relate to it.
In so as it passes you by in this moment in time, as do I.
Though our time seems of length. Tis only a breath.
I am not yours and you are not mine.
Just as the moon doesn't belong to the wolf.
Nor does the wolf belong to the moon.
In knowing this. I will trade a thousand breaths to one.
If only that one could be spent with you.
Jamison Bell Aug 2023
I don't know exactly what it is that I'm looking for.
I just know it's not here.
My gut.
My guts are telling me that I have to wait.
So. I'll smile for you. And if you play your cards right.
I might even write you a poem.
Just know, understand.
I'm not here for me.
I'm here for you.
If it were up to me.
I'd be anywhere else than here.
Jamison Bell Oct 2021
Upon a place no man has stepped.
A lonely girl knelt and wept.
Her family lost, her hope as well.
She’d brought along a little bell.
She started to dig where her tears had fallen.
For she could hear her best friend callin.

Faintly was the scent of death.
From out of the dirt, she smelled her breath.
She presented the bell before the hole.
And shook it thrice to hear its toll.
Sulfuric smoke seeped from the ground.
The forest stopped and made no sound.

“Right the wrongs done to I, so that I may cease to cry.
Free them from their mortal coil, so that in hell they’ll burn and toil.”
A scream like that of a banshee ripped.
From out of the hole a fire slipped.
A winged demon emerged in sight.
Dripping hate and firelight.

From out of the burning debris and embers.
At the feet of ancient timbers.
A winged version of this lil girl.
Stretched out her wings a did a twirl.
She looked upon the moon with ire.
Swearing to one day set it afire.

“Emily, where are you dear?
Please approach and hold me near.”
Emily then, bid her welcome
“Why dear sister are your visits seldom?
Emily I’ve missed you so.
I was sad to see you go.”

“I’m so sorry Laura. Please.
I stopped along the way for these.”
Emily held out daffodils.
That she had brought down from the hills.
Laura smiled and cocked her head.
“Much like I, they’re also dead.”

Many things had lived and died.
Since they were by each other’s side.
Emily watched as her sister drowned.
She made no effort or even sound.
Laura’s death was for good reason.
Her mood was death for every season.

Emily had seen her sister ****.
Standing by and standing still.
Then there came that night now haunted.
When Emily would not be daunted.
Laura had taken Emily’s cat.
And gone outside with a bat.

Emily then chased her still.
Towards the well upon a hill.
Emily returned that night.
Laura lost, no where in sight.
She’d watched her sister drown.
She made no move, she made no sound.

The two embraced and cried in quiet.
They both did wrong and both stood by it.
"Emily your heart feels cold against my skin,
it was not like that way back when."
"It's been so dark since mother died,
father hasn't mourned or cried."

"Our mother died? Say since when.
Tell me Emily, begin again."
"Not long after I took your life,
our home became a place for strife.
The crops fell sick as did our cows,
as well as the chickens and the sows.

Our mother she neglected me,
she hung herself on our oak tree.
Then fathers friends they came right after,
they strung me up from the rafters.
One by one they had their way,
our father watched and took his pay."

Laura pulled away in awe,
uttering only "not our pa".
Emily sobbed and lowered her head.
"Our home is but a place of dread."
Laura slowly unfurled her wings.
"I will not stand for such awful things."

Her claws of black volcanic glass,
her cat like eyes let nothing pass.
Her shredded skin and fibers showing,
her thirsty fangs and eyes a glowing.
"Tell me Emily where is our father?
I'll let him be the first I bother."

"On the floor back at our stead,
with any luck already dead.
His friends are also probably there,
waiting there for me I dare.
Oh Laura dear I am afraid.
Please do not get hurt or scathed."

Emily put her knees to dirt.
"I only wish I couldn't hurt."
Laura took her sisters hand.
"Emily dear, leave this land.
Where your from you must never say.
Because for sure you'll die that day.

This is a curse I must bestow.
Because for every death there is a toll."
The sisters said goodbye once more.
Things won't be as they were before.
Laura flapped her wings to flight.
Emily walked into the night.

Laura perched upon the barn and saw.
Her fathers friends but not her Pa.
She changed her scent to that whiskey.
Then she willed away a man named Liskey.
In the barn up to the loft.
The hay was old, damp, and soft.

She waited for the drunkard there.
Her eyes aglow her body bare.
Liskey forced the girl against the joist.
Laura hung his body from the hoist.
While his friends below were sharing whiskey
Hanging high was Mr Liskey

Next there was a young man named Sam.
She made him cry like a wounded lamb.
This brought the others to the field.
She slayed them all she would not yield.
She tore their flesh and drank their blood.
She scattered their limbs into the mud.

The sun was set and about to rise.
To light upon such distant skies.
Laura made her way towards the ranch.
Stopping once to break a branch.
From off a tree her grandpa planted.
For there would be no mercy granted.

She found her Pa there in the kitchen
She raised her branch and started switchin'.
Her father awoke and screamed in wrath.
He tried to run and clear a path.
But Laura dear just kept on hitting.
He started cursing, fighting, spitting.

Her father suffered so many blows.
Just how many, no one knows.
He screamed until there was notheing left.
Not of the branch or his breath.
Laura knelt down by his side.
Unto the sun she would not abide.

Upon his cheek she pressed her lips
and traced his face with fingertips.
She took him by the legs outside,
then took him by his bleeding hide.
She lifted him with wings aloft,
he cried aloud while she just scoffed.

She stopped above her earthly tomb,
that cursed well, that demons womb.
"Father dear it's here you'll sleep,
here unto your death you'll keep."
She let him go and watched him fall,
his body slapping off the walls.

So now you know the story see.
Of our dear friend Emily.
Of what she did to be right here.
Her sins forgiven conscious clear.
I'm sure by now you surely see.
We better be nice to Emily.
Jamison Bell Oct 2016
From the top of the mountains that rest under Apollos feet.
To the deepest of forest where Artemis has been heard to sing.

The cliffs of Moher overlooking the remains the forsaken Mal.
And to the canyons formed by Paul Bunyan's axe.

Where ball lightening dances to where the Angel she falls.
And even where they ghost danced so that Miwok could sleep.

I've told them all so many times, you must've heard by now.
Surely tales have found you wherein you ought to be found.

Pan himself is tired of my proclamations.
My devil may care position on you sickens even Cupid.

So let it be said and let the darkness be ******.
Tell Osiris that I am on my way for maybe he hasn't heard.

One day these words will reach you and then you'll finally hear.
I love you.
390 · Jan 2019
You’re too late
Jamison Bell Jan 2019
Shatter me
As if dropping a spider
Smash my spirit against your wall
Test my will
If you will
Preserve this moment to memory
Before you make your attempt
Remember me as I am
As the storm rolls in
And this test of wills begins
Where you’ll find me here
Under the stars and just beyond your reach
Salted, baked, and thirsty
Be merciless in your verbality
I beg of you my darling
Only your worst will do
The joke is on you my love
I was already broken when we met
381 · Jun 2016
(sigh)
Jamison Bell Jun 2016
The shadows on her chest eb and flow like the tide.
With every breath she takes from me I watch her chest heave.
The candle flames dance, as if to garner her approval.
You're too late Hephaestus, tonight her heart is mine.
376 · Apr 2019
Jameson on the rocks
Jamison Bell Apr 2019
Colors stream down your face
Like raindrops on a window
Washing away one layer of you at a time
Like scenes from a movie
They play out nightly to an audience of one
And though they’re not worth much
To you, or anyone
They’re all I have
Illusions and things left unsaid
371 · Sep 2016
When it rains
Jamison Bell Sep 2016
It's raining and it's all I can hear.
I wish you were here.
I wish you understood.
It's raining here, it is all that I can hear.

Satiating my desire for serenity without having to abandon my mortal coil. This rain falls calmly, it doesn't look to erase anything. Only to replenish.

I wrote to you of my wrongs. Perhaps the rain bled my letter. The quill translated so many of my thoughts that night.
The black sweat of a bottle, traced feelings upon parchment. Erased by this cursed rain. I am held to its will and it to mine.
Jamison Bell Jun 2016
I won't lie and say I trust myself because the truth is that I don't.
I will lie and say I'll be there when, but the truth is that I won't.

I don't know what you want from me much less to what extent.
Most days I just push it through when other days I'm spent.

You may or may not have said those things believe them I just can't.
It's hard to pay attention when my mind it starts to rant.

"It's all absurd, listen not, for these words we hear are lies!
She doesn't love you she doesn't mean it, don't look into her eyes!"

Alas though I'll hang my head, to look into my drink.
Thank Buddah it isn't empty, this scotch it helps me think.

The amber cloud of liquid courage I've captured in this glass.
Brings to mind I'm out of smokes and these thoughts can kiss my ***.

**** the truth there's nothing there but misery and pain.
To soak a soul in smoke and scotch lest he go insane?

The illusion that I'm living I think will suit me fine.
I don't know how the story ends so I refuse to wait in line.

No materials that I want so much that I'll sacrifice my time.
When I could be here hoping you are reading every rhyme.

Well I've sorted all my quandaries relating to this matter.
Whether or not they give a **** could only serve to flatter.

To know the truth will woo the ego or feed my self loathing.
Another lie to tell thyself a wolf in some sheeps clothing.

I thank you though for hanging out as I wrestle with myself.
Choosing which illusion to pull down from the shelf.
360 · Mar 2019
It’s not much
Jamison Bell Mar 2019
I can’t give you all of me
But you’re welcome to take what’s left of me
356 · Dec 2018
In between the inside out
Jamison Bell Dec 2018
She paints her moments on her caramel skin
Those ones she knows won’t last
Sorting through things said
Reliving the storms, hoping they stir her again
Whether it be rage or loss
As long as she can feel it
So the stars look for her
And the moon has missed her soul
While she hides in her corner
Because she doesn’t trust the light
Jamison Bell Mar 2019
She asked “Did you take the trash out?”
How do I answer that?
I guess.
There’s still more here.
There are things waiting to be trash
There’s things that we think are things but they’re actually trash
There are things that I think are things but you think they’re thrash and vice versa
We’re eventually going to go out and buy things that will one day become trash
Then someone is going to take the trash and turn it back into a thing until no one wants that thing then it goes back to being trash
Perhaps it’s because we’re so used to handling trash
That sometimes we tend to treat each other the same way

And no, I didn’t take the trash out
Jamison Bell Jul 2016
She said "dear, inspire me", when the truth is that I can't.
It's not that I don't want to, but all I do is rant.

Some ******* here, a comment there, as if I feel I must.
I'm throwing around cynicism like its ****** fairy dust.

The fact is dear, there's nothing inspiring about me.
I'm mediocre when at my best, no reason to ever doubt me.

Oh sure I can tell you all about the mysterious Devils Kettle.
Or talk at length if you will about the Spinxs favorite riddle.

I know the Raven to and fro, but no one wants to hear it.
I can tell you if you crock that roast, it'll be better if you sear it.

I cannot grow you flowers or always make you laugh.
I can't even say you'll be impressed at my version of a staff.

I'm sorry dear I truly am, for my game is truly lacking.
My talents few and far between, I'm not even good at stacking.

I can keep you up for nights on end with what I know of Russia.
Or spit for you a thousand tales just one shy of Scheherazade.

See what I mean? That last verse barely makes any sense.
Kind of like that inferno opera The Pirates of Penzance.

I will tell you if I may, it's not entirely my fault you see.
For once you take up nihilism you may cease to even be.

I will tell you my good friend, that you are indeed my friend.
Someone there to read this **** and maybe smile at the end.
352 · May 2016
I don't know
Jamison Bell May 2016
There was a time, she said to me not so long ago.
It made me think about the things I don't already know.

I don't know if she loved me, her feelings were unclear.
I can tell you how my hands would shake whenever she came near.

I don't know where the light is, I can't seem to find the switch.
I can tell what the dark is like, she's a vacuous soulless *****.

I don't know how to "love" myself, I can be quite the ****.
My apathetic nihilism is enough to make me sick.

I don't quite get consumerism, is this something I should know?
Buying **** that I don't need just to help the market flow?

I once claimed to play piano, the fact is that I don't.
I could say that I want to, the fact is that I won't.

So many things left unmentioned, these things I don't know.
Like lightening bugs and that crazy bioluminescent glow.

There is something that should be said before I have to leave.
About a certain someone I keep tucked up in my sleeve.

She calls me out and lays me down stealing every breath.
A demeanor so befitting it would puzzle even Death.

Of all the things that I know so very little of.
She would be the only one that I could say I loved.
352 · Feb 2022
Ashes and ice cubes
Jamison Bell Feb 2022
I was never there with you
Where you were
I couldn’t go
Far away I roamed
Through ancient forest
Haunted by stories
Of things that are gone forever
Over rivers of sunlight
And blue deserts
I’d wander tirelessly
Until I found someplace
Echoless and boundless
Where I could be alone
To think about you
Jamison Bell Jun 2016
It'll never matter how I say it.
Or write it.
I could dress it up with lights and display it.
It still won't matter.

I could slay a thousand dragons and tell you jokes along the way.
Though your still hanging on the words someone else said yesterday.

I want to have your drink ready for you when you walk into the door.
To hear about your day and how it went down at the store.

I've cursed the moon so many times because it holds a thought of you.
And any love you deserve is probably years over due.

I am the ogre holding up the bridge if ever you should cross.
Time not spent within your eyes could be my only loss.

A million sunsets and all the stars could never hold a candle.
In trying to relate your attributes I'll probably never get a handle.

Think of me a fool if you will, for this I cannot change.
But should I choose your life or mine, I'll step into the range.

The softness of your presence and the warmth of your smile.
Is enough to hold me over for at least a little while.

Suffer the fools, the misogynist, and the others if you must.
Rest assured my wayward friend in me your heart can trust.
Jamison Bell Jun 2016
I figured it out at a fairly young age, there is nothing I want, only what I need.
But if I could have what I want? Free from the gluttony, the guilt, and the greed?

I want to know what, the where, when, and why.
The who doesn't matter, because everyone dies.

Its my desire to know these things that you don't.
Those things you can't know and probably won't.

Like just what was up with the loneliest whale.
Sung much too loud, no friends by his tale.

I'd like unlimited access to what the Hubble finds.
The **** you keep secret from blowing our minds.

To know what she's thinking, feeling, and ****.
So that I may know whether to stay or quit.

To be right on time for all the best sunsets.
Or to forgvie and forget all those ****** regrets.

To know when and where to see the northern lights.
A front seat next time the Komodo dragons fight.

To know if she's smiling, make the why optional.
To know if she's hurt, this ones unconditional.

And why was I where I shouldn't have been when?
And why the hell cant I go back there again?

How may I acquire a bioluminescent glow?
That one right there would be impressive to know.

Just how did I get her to despise me so much?
Was it the lack of presence, or the last time we touched?

What was the name of her favorite song?
I will learn this if it takes all night long.
338 · Dec 2017
Nothing
Jamison Bell Dec 2017
I’d hang myself, if only I could find the end of my rope
It’s tangled up in whiskey soaked thoughts
Everyday is a new measurement. Another step I don’t want to take
down a poorly lit hallway
I can’t see before me and I don’t want to look back
I do anyway
Under flickering fluorescent lights
Eyes squinting through stale cigarette smoke
Nothing
Always nothing
Jamison Bell Oct 2017
You know what it's like?
To be tortured of mind.
To have all these thoughts.
To feel nothing in kind.

I taste only ash.
No longer I smell.
For the scent of rain.
My soul I'd sell.

No reason to cry.
No reason to smile.
No logic to suffer.
It's been a while.

All night I think,
Of where I went wrong.
What brought me here?
Was it her or that song?

What difference it makes.
Apparently none.
Am I already dead?
Is this life done?
336 · Aug 2016
It's science and stuff
Jamison Bell Aug 2016
Do you even know what I'm thinking?
It's not to be contested.
And yes I've been drinking.
Enough to be arrested.

In order for you to teleport.
And this you can't avoid.
Your consciousness we must import.
Your body gets destroyed.

Your character we'll scatter.
To places far and near.
For a moment you won't matter.
Until you reappear.

Though here I am to warn you.
Things may seem a little out of place.
See they have to reconstruct you.
And you're still carbon based.

They'll upload your very being.
Right up in this new you.
You won't believe what you are seeing.
When you step out on Timbuktu.

For it was but a moment when you were here by me.
Till you up and vanished across so many seas.
To hell with you you blasted ***** teleporting *****!
I'm coming for your *** when I walk out that other door.
336 · May 2016
Not a poem
Jamison Bell May 2016
I don't blame you.
I'm not sure I believe in blame.
Do you remember?
No. I've done my best to forget. And I might say I've done so wisely.
Why?
It's not worth it. There's no gain to be had.
What if there was?
Gain?
Yes.
Such as? Nye, don't bother. As I've said.
What if what was could be again?
It can't. Because it never was. I looked into her eyes.
And?
I saw the world unanswered, I saw the same stars I saw the first time I looked up.
So?
I didn't see me.
Jamison Bell Jan 2023
I’ve been mired in an existential crisis for so long now, I don’t trust jelly.
It just doesn’t look right.
Bear with me here. (Barry the bubbly brown bear. See what I did there?)
What if, jelly disproves the life is a computer simulation theory?
Why would a sentient machine running a computer program to simulate life write jelly into the programming?
It wouldn’t, right?
So now that I’ve nixed that theory for y’all.
What else ya got?
332 · Sep 2016
(sigh) that felt good
Jamison Bell Sep 2016
Forgive me my tresspasses.

Only because I have no one, no where else to vent.
I have a gf. She insist she loves me. I've had a few others in the past say the same thing. I have never believed them/anyone.
I'm not sure why. I don't know if it's because no one has ever met my definition of love. Maybe I'm dead inside. I have no idea.
Sometimes someone will do something nice for me. I'm not sure what that is all about either.
I can wrap my brain around the concept of a black hole. But for the life of me I will never understand this love thing.
I know how I feel about certain people. But I can't say they feel the same way. At least not with any certainty.
I just can't imagine anyone feeling for me how it is I may feel about them.
I'm not crying, *******, moaning what have you. I'm just stating the fact of my confusion when it comes to how love is supposed to work.
Jamison Bell Nov 2019
Just hand me the world
I’ll give you my life
I’ll dust it free
Of peace and strife
I’ll put the horse before the cart
And where you finish is where I’ll start
Just put it here upon my shoulder
I’ll be right here when it gets colder
I promise not to fumble this
Muddled world of **** and ****
Just let me wipe it shiny new
Remake this world just for you
329 · Sep 2016
Well. Ok then.
Jamison Bell Sep 2016
Did you see?
Do you have it with you?
I do.
I take it out and look at it.
When the night is at its coldest.
When the batteries have gone dead and the music has stopped.
I unfurl the tapestry of that moment.
I hang it up in the back of my mind.
And I watch it play out.
The colors surrounding.
The silence in the air.
The smell of your skin.
It was an all encompassing moment.
A warmth unforgiving and a softness too rarely felt.
The day I kissed a hummingbird.
Jamison Bell Jul 2019
I can’t love you
And I can’t **** you
So
I’m going to drink this here poison
And wait for you to die
Jamison Bell Jun 2016
Thank you for the invite to your table.
I have nothing to offer you.
Therefore I cannot sit down.
I am not of noble blood.
In fact there is very little about me that could be described as noble.

I ask that you tell me what ails you?
Do you need something fixed?
A problem resolved?
A dragon to be slain?
Let me bring you its still beating heart.

My character is appreciative but undeserving.
I am the atrocity by nature.
A scourge upon dreams.
A knight for all the wrong reasons.
Look closely, you'll see my teeth marks on the dragons heart.
Jamison Bell Jun 2017
I hate the knowing.
The knowing of what's going to happen before it happens.
I know what she's going to say.
I know what he's going to do.
Predictability.
People.
Reactions.
I've been here before.
I don't know how much time I have left.
But.
I know it isn't much.
So.
Can we just cut to the chase.
I'm going to say.
Then you're going to say.
Then I'm going to counter with.
And you're going to react like.
So I'll reinforce.
You'll roll your eyes.
And the dance goes on.
How about we just say "*******" and call it a night?
Then I can go back to drinking.
You can put down the facade of empathy.
And.
Well I guess I don't know after that.
I suppose.
We'll both find someone else to dance with.
Jamison Bell Jul 2017
The loneliest whale.
No one can understand you.
You've got to calm the **** down.
Jamison Bell Sep 2016
If she only knew
She is a galaxy in my eyes
A wonder to behold
Beautiful in her mysteries

A symphony of light and chaos
The longing to dance along side her
It is an ache sorely kept
A pain most coveted

Resting on an event horizon
Time stands still
The past, the present, and the future
Discombobulated moments entrance

Words not heard or felt
Lost in a vacuous void
Between her heart and mine
Too much time, too much space
318 · Aug 2017
A puppy with a chainsaw
Jamison Bell Aug 2017
You might smoke a little *** to ease away the pain.
You might drink a little whiskey just to soothe the brain.
You might snort a little coke to get the party started.
Perhaps you'll take a little pill to forget your dear departed.
Me? I'll take the *** but I don't smoke it cause it's great.
It's there to cloud my thoughts because my heart is full of hate.
317 · Aug 2017
Your bones are wet.
Jamison Bell Aug 2017
Tell me a secret.
Tell me about that time.
That place.
It's ok.
You can trust me.
I'm going to assume you're lying anyway.
Jamison Bell Jun 2023
The ones that loved me, didn't like me. The ones that liked me? Didn't love me.
314 · Sep 2016
How you like me now?
Jamison Bell Sep 2016
I stopped to smell the roses.
They laughed at me.
I painted the roses black.
Now I'm the only one laughing.
Jamison Bell Aug 2016
So what if I lapse?
I'll catch you.
When I fall?
Yes.

I've fallen before.
You will again.
You weren't there last time.
Wasn't I?

It's getting darker.
It usually does.
What'd I do?
You feel your way through as you have before.

They told me it's always darkest before the dawn.
And then they told me all hope was gone.

They lied about the dawn and they lied about the hope.
Tis too soon to hang thyself by an apathetic rope.

It lies in my perception these answers that evade.
The world I see around me is the world I have made.

And when I look inside to my blackened rotting heart.
Standing there before myself, to see my ego fall apart.

I'll find the hope that springs eternal as I've heard them say.
I'll clinch my teeth and gnaw the bit until my dying day.

I don't need you there to catch me if ever I should fall.
And should you say my name in the dark, I may not hear the call.

Rest assured my weary friend for there will come a day.
Until that time my trusted friend there be demons you must slay.
Jamison Bell Jun 2019
I know it doesn’t matter
But I’d like to know
Did it matter
To you
Did I teach you anything
Were you ever happy
Or did it mean nothing
Was it all in vain
I don’t mind going
Just tell me
If it meant something
That I was ever here
At all
307 · Jul 2016
It's raining.
Jamison Bell Jul 2016
I can think of no comparable rapture than a electrical storm.
Power, chaos, and fury moshing it out and the earth is their pit.
It's like watching three brothers fight for the front seat.
There's so much passion condensed into a small area.

Ages ago I'd climb into the safety of my car and drive.
Once I reached a spot void of light pollution I'd **** the engine.
Just to hear the rain hammer the roof of my car.
To feel the power in the air and watch the streaks of light.

I'd think about life or the lack thereof and her of course.
The darkness enveloping the turmoil that lie unseen.
A certain beauty to the chaos if looked at from just the right angle.
Though unlike the other dogs. I stayed behind to finish the game.
The storms just never scared me.
306 · Jun 2019
This is what I drink
Jamison Bell Jun 2019
Why we **** and the irrational logic that is ego.

      People really are the worst. No other creature on the planet is as unapologetically narcissistic, ego driven, and petty as we are. And it baffles the **** out of me.
      Let’s look at it from a logical point of view. You wake up in the morning and you think to yourself “I’m a person of fine caliber who deserves the undying love I get.” You’re not and you don’t. You’re a piece of self serving **** and I’ll prove it to you.
       You brush your teeth. You’re supporting a chemical company that tested the chemicals they used to come up with that refreshing minty taste on animals. A creature died so that you can feel clean.
        Your shoes were made by an uneducated poor as **** Malaysian child that sleeps on a dirt floor and hasn’t eaten in two days. But no, they look great on you. You ******* donkey.
        Your phone? That precious ****** device you use to keep the secrets of who you actually are. Those pics, those texts. The minerals used to make that phone were mined by slaves under deplorable working conditions. However, you need to get that ****** selfie so ole Ping Pongs stage seventeen cancer is going to have to wait *******.
        The oil burnt off by the giant ****** container ship they used to transport 90% of the useless **** you have to buy from Walmart? Well that kind of negates your eco friendly tampons, so no Janet you’re not doing **** to save the planet.
         Look. I have no problem with people doing as they do. But for ***** sake, own up to it. If you’re going to be a *******, stop ******* kidding yourself into thinking you’re entitled. Because you’re not.
         Ask nature. I assure you if a Timber wolf should approach you with the ability to talk. He’s not going to say “I ******* love what you’ve done with the place.” Tress are not going to hug you and birds aren’t going to sing to you. They hate you. Nature hates you. Because we’ve done nothing but hate **** her and ourselves at every turn.
         People know they don’t have long. They know their time is short. So they seek out the immediate sources of gratification. “Because tomorrow may not be here Jimmy so if Marilyn wants an interracial ****** *******. What am I as her husband to say?” *** Daryl?
         Hence all the pain we inflict on ourselves and others. The typical person will cut the throat of anything they covet if the right buttons are pushed. It’s inevitable. Even if it means cutting off our noses to spite our faces. A person will do it every time.
        That’s your reason to not trust a ******* if you’re looking for one. Not because of who they are. But because of what they are.
         People are hypocritical cancerous cells hell bent on the indulgences of our momentary needs. That’s it. We deserve nothing because our behavior doesn’t warrant it. We give nothing back in comparison to what we take and we’re as apathetic as **** about it.
         It’s always been the reason for my own self loathing. I feel like I should be apologizing to ******* Gaia every morning for what I’m about to do. I feel like I deserve every bit of pain I’ve suffered for the slights my mere existence has brought upon the world and other people. And.
        That’s what ****** me off about other people. Especially the ones that like themselves. The **** did you do? Cure cancer? You **** and you’re too ****** stupid to even know why. You’re not as nice as you think you are. Because I bet I can round up at least a dozen ******* from your past that would agree. And just by statistics alone, they’re not all wrong.
         We’ve all done our damage. We’ve all hurt someone. We’ve lied for our own benefit and there’s no measure to how far we’d go to secure that which lets us sleep at night. It’s what we are.
         I only ask that people own up to it. Stop kidding yourself into thinking what you get in life is earned or deserved. I can assure you that there is a perfectly irrational answer for it all. And it’s not because you’re special.
304 · May 2017
Ahem! yup
Jamison Bell May 2017
To write you what I'm thinking
would be nothing short of forced.
Words of wit and wisdom
adamantly coerced.

Albeit about the moon
or the stars to be admired.
Amber rays of sunlight
and those things so oft desired.

Hummingbirds aloft in flight
remind this knight of thee.
Alas my heart sinking
in the eyes of an emerald sea.

Or could it be what it is
a mutually assured destruction.
A simulation of our own design
our perceptions in construction.

So there it is I told you so
my wording lacks in flair.
When I all ever wanted
was for you to know I care.
Jamison Bell Sep 2019
Mired in a trance
The cigarette bites my finger
I hold it under the faucet until it tells me it’s name and who sent it
My mind is saturated with the thought of thee, I bite my thumb at you!
Flinging open these ******* shutters, hoping for a flirt and flutter
So I can squeeze the life out of Nevermore
Cursed reminder from the Nights Plutonian shore
There’s no fire here but every time you come waltzing onto my train of thought, my whiskey bottle becomes a little lighter
Jamison Bell May 2019
I’m too afraid to turn around
I’m too afraid to see what isn’t there
My footprints, my words, my acts
Washed away by the tides
Of all who were in some way
Better than I
300 · Dec 2017
The library of lives
Jamison Bell Dec 2017
You can search if you like, the library of those who have lived.
Row after row of dusty books, stories of some that gived.
Others are just pages of lamenting, describing their pain and loss.
Scribbles of things unsaid and things that silence cost.
You may just find your book, amidst the stacks of stories unfinished.
Ink still wet on the pages, of a life not yet diminished.
In there you’ll find a sentence, in which you casually mention me.
In my book you’ll find a chapter, of which was written for thee.
289 · Apr 2016
Sleepy Heart
Jamison Bell Apr 2016
My heart is tired.
I can feel it.
It wants so badly to lie down.
To go to sleep.

I am ready.
I don't want to.
But I must acquiesce.
It hurts, all the time.

Lie to me.
Before I go to sleep.
Tell me those lies.
Before I give Charon his duty.

Tell me you loved me.
Tell me I mattered.
I know you don't mean it.
I just want to hear them once.

I want to believe you.
I can't, though I want to.
As a balm to my heart.
Just say it.

I'm going to lie down.
Call me for dinner.
If I don't rise.
It's my heart. It was just too tired.
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