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Jaymisun Kearney Feb 2014
In the white light of a phone's glow
I write the last lies to be told
in these walls
These could be any four walls
as I'm sure you know
All of the best kept secrets wept out in words
that obscure the stories still unheard
Where's the truth
in this morbid, designer
tale of a breakdown?

That's all this is
as I'm sure you know
You've been here before

You've
felt the last drop of hope float
down the drain with the last check
cut from the paper of places
that let you go
or you let go
It's all the same story growing old
You've
felt the final slap of real emotion
under your face to touch your soul
and unless I'm mistaken
You let it go
You gave up control to your old ghosts
You let it all go
And as
You felt the empire crumble on your shoulders
You could only
Cry and laugh,
Lonely

I'd take air into my lungs
I'd get up, I'd get up
I'd walk
On
Words
For me

If only Winter were over

All of the best kept secrets wept out in words
that obscure the stories still unheard

That's all this is
as I'm sure you know
A story

The son
The daughter
The treasure
The burden
The troubled one
The space cadet
The kraken
Reaching its tendrils into
You
For all that you're worth
And squeezing,
Keeping you cold
In ocean
In orbit
Keeping hold
Even as dirt and ashes coat

You let it go
You gave up control, you gave it away and always
You let it all go
And as
You feel the ghosts breathing sweetly on your shoulder
You can only
Laugh and cry,
Lonely

I'd take air into my lungs
I'd get up, I'd give up
I'd live, fully

But this arterial Winter
wonderland won't warm these walls

I'd live

If only Winter were over
That's all this is.
Jaymisun Kearney Feb 2014
Just this last year, in August of 2013, I was introduced to this website by an acquaintance of mine.
We'd gone on a couple of dates together, but both decided things weren't moving mutually in our
favor. I'd told her that there's no thing I love more than writing. There's a quality in the transference of emotion from thought to page that I just can't find anywhere else. Sad to say, I told her, I haven't written anything in a very long time. Was it writer's block, she asked. I shook my head, but couldn't commit to an answer one way or the other.

Sometime later, maybe weeks after that conversation downtown at The Rialto, she sent me a text message. That was when my cell phone service was still active. She said that she found this website -- literally, this website -- where a large community of people post their poetry. Hard times were fallen on her and all that, and she said that writing poetry again was a great release. She sent me a link to the website so that I could check it out.

What happened after that was nothing short of a small, personal miracle. Words were coming to me again, fast, fast. For years, nothing genuine would come. Suddenly, the gates opened. Ask anyone who enjoys writing why they write and I'm sure you'll get many, many different answers. Mine is this: to affect. There's no greater joy for me than knowing I've affected others in a way that drives them to an end. A positive end, of course. That old saying, about being able to reach out and touch just one person. That's more than enough for me.

The pain. The drama. The isolation. The spiritual dissonance. The love. The joy. The passion. The surrender. There have been a lot of feelings that drive the words I write, and I'm happy to know that there have been people out there reading, even if only a few. In a way, it's like you've all been riding along with me, and that means more than I could ever say. Instead of trying to describe it in detail, I'll say, Thank You.

I have more piece of poetry I'll be publishing here. The final piece to the Arterial Winter collection. It wouldn't feel right to leave without putting the final nail in that coffin. In the meantime, I'll slowly be removing my older works from the website, one by one, until they're all gone. Over the course of the next few weeks, I'll be rearranging everything into new collections, and figuring out interesting ways to print and sell each piece. Needless to say, I'm very excited for what the future brings.

Thank you. I really can't thank all of you who took the time to even peek at my work enough for the fire you've reignited inside of me. These endeavors, along with a couple of novel projects I've started, have given me the justification I need to actually consider myself a writer. Regardless of situation or circumstance, I'll be finding you all again somewhere. See you later. See you soon.

Best Regards
Jaymisun Kearney Feb 2014
As surely as the sun will rise beyond your demise
As surely as the rain will quench and carve in time
As surely as the space you take on the Earth remains

Death will come
Every thing at once
Black and wrapping

As surely as
The certainty of pulse

Come to life
Frozen, ignite

You can hear this voice
You can catch your voice
Before the sound rebounds away
May the pain that's left you void
Cut to your marrow just to show
You're alive to feel the bone break
Death levels but never takes
What wounds surely regenerate

As surely as
The certainty of pulse
Jaymisun Kearney Jan 2014
Last night, deep
In sleep before the heater
I had a dream
. . .
You were in it
We rolled on the floor
Clothed, close
I kissed you

You took it with your dark lips open
But pulled back after just one
Your words were, "You hurry too much"
Eyes wide, I sighed, "What have I done?"

Were it isolated I wouldn't think twice
But I wake to wind at the window
In a moonless night
The stars aren't enough to see where I've gone
Lacking illumination I repeat my wrongs
And caress against a pillow
To pretend I'm warm

Last night, deep in dreams before the heater
I dreamt a scene
. . .
You weren't in it
Weeks ago we played
Naked
On the bed

Too infrequent for cravings
When joined and apart
Your words were, "You don't care if I
Live or I die"
So you withheld your invite
Eyes wide, I sighed
And keep sighing

How do you measure me?
How do you measure this?
Why would you
Hide inside
To try?
Jaymisun Kearney Jan 2014
Over the music
I knew it
Was too good to be true
I thought that I heard you
Say, "Hello"

Oh,
Imagination

Under the tracers
Of lasers
You stood out peeking through
Auburn hair cast in blue
And yellow

Oh,
Anticipation

Are you hungry?
Are you lonely?
I feel you staring
Burning a hole right through
I know you're staring
Projecting those three words

Don't speak
Hush
Bare teeth
Rush
Grasp me, moaning, gasping
When I cut your lips for you
As we both leave to continue

Once before
Believers
Once before and again
Crossing with frigid wind
On shallows

If imagination taunts
Like holding haunts
I'll be broken down if I turn
If imagination taunts
While we still walk the wasteland
May we meet in the melt of rings
To find Spring
Jaymisun Kearney Jan 2014
Once starshine
Once iodide
For years healing
You're done healing
You hard stop
You immolate
Every word
To ember but

You left a fuel line to me

I swore I'd
Sing should you **** me
Unless you
Took my tongue with you
I see you
Thought sealing my mouth
With stitches
Would drown my war cries
Well we all
See how well that worked
Now don't we?
Jaymisun Kearney Jan 2014
All eyes scanning across us,
They all
Know
Ears hear and understand us,
And they
Show
Connection with severence
Blue lipped armed with contention
to mumbled fears
from bodies
Still warm

For what it's worth the hurt means
very little
It's love lacking in life that I give
that flows this ocean

Callous tongues that lash upon
Broken
Spines
Siphon will till palms open
Flowing
Black
Water once pumping crimson
Transmute wishes into ink
for those close for
clarity
Or not

From distance
The trembles
Shake young hands
From cynics
The whispers
Turn lovers away

Glyphs giving
Strength consume
Who follows through
In ocean
Clean lines
Drawn in secret
Seep mess
Into
Life stream
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