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426 · May 2017
insomnia
James Court May 2017
i can
never
sleep...
or
maybe i'm
never
in truth
awake
425 · Apr 2017
Adulthood
James Court Apr 2017
The cheerless man walks through the crowd of nameless, shapeless faces
Moving swiftly, loud and rough, to more familiar places
He has a lot of things to do, so has no time to smile
His life is far too serious to lighten up awhile

And though he sees what’s going on, he still wears his dark coat
He turns his back upon the world and hums a weary note
He disbelieves in anarchy; he has to have routine
And in his haste to get things done, he leaves the world unseen

The cheerless man goes on and on; he never seems to stop
He knows his dedication could well help him reach the top
The cheerless man works steadily, no time for smiles or fun
He makes no space for anything; his work is never done

And every day is just the same for solemn, cheerless man
From home to work and back again to where he first began
And though the cheerless man leaves all his cheer upon the shelf
He still goes on in his small world, chuckling to himself
An older poem
412 · Dec 2017
Summer I
James Court Dec 2017
fan on, but the heat,
persistent, wraps my skin, tries
hard not to blow off
405 · Jun 2017
'Go', she said
James Court Jun 2017
You wished to never a-spy my face
again, at any time or place;
you banished me from out your years
and you took off with never a forethought,

and the letter I wrote (to state how I
don't understand) got no reply,
so I'll hold back the pain and tears
and I'll leave the ball ever in your court.
405 · Jun 2017
Hide and Seek
James Court Jun 2017
I played a game of
hide and seek
with the heart you stole
from my chest
But when I glimpsed
you smile at me
the poor thing
went into
arrest
A continuation of Connect the Dots by Molly Gilmour:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2007210/connect-the-dots/
386 · Apr 2017
Time
James Court Apr 2017
What made us run aground
upon the rocky shores?
Who then began to sing
of the friends that we’d lost?

The egos of ev'ry
person worshipped and crowned
denying nature’s ways
against rocks should be tossed.

Of every trying thing
that we on Earth have found,
nothing surpasses time
in pain and human cost.

If time could be rewound,
what sorrows would it bring?
369 · May 2017
It seems to me...
James Court May 2017
It seems to me a sorry thing,
   the damage that a love can do;
for all the joy that it can bring,
   it seems to me a sorry thing,
since whilst a heart it maketh sing,
   it promises to rend it too -
it seems to me a sorry thing,
   the damage that a love can do.
368 · May 2017
Sonnet III
James Court May 2017
Whenever I begin to write a verse,
   I rarely know quite how the work will end;
I try to keep my subjects somewhat terse
   and use the form to make the scansion bend.
I find the meaning somewhere halfway through
   the writing process, where it's leading me;
and try my utmost not to overdo
   the metaphors and sappy imag'ry
(for sentimental verse we hardly lack
   among the countless writings of our time).
I speak of love, but more so I stay back
   and think of other matters for to rhyme,
and when I reach the end and writing's done,
it's not long ere the next work is begun.
367 · May 2020
The Smart Hippopotamus
James Court May 2020
I met an astute hippopotamus.
Though his voice could get very monotonous,
he could quote each refrain
writ by Shakespeare and Twain,
and his knowledge of Dickens was bottomless.
360 · Jun 2017
Internet
James Court Jun 2017
Internet,
internet,
how slow can this **** thing get?
Lucky country?
Do you jest?
Gotta say I'm not impressed.
It's no longer
'98,
when we (for dial-up) had to wait,
so internet,
internet,
can't you load this website yet?
359 · Apr 2017
Sonnet I
James Court Apr 2017
Here stands a soul in search of lovers past;
   a man whose mind is greying with the sky.
His limited relations seldom last,
   and sadder still, he knows exactly why -
uncomplicated love is hard to find,
   when with misfortune, every glance betrays
behind his eyes this sombre, dark'ning mind -
   a mind that, with perspective, would amaze -
still, one that loses focus by degrees
   if e'er a caustic subject he espies...
it’s difficult to bury thoughts like these
   when trusting women peer into his eyes.
Perhaps he’ll figure out if he succeeds -
the complicated love’s the kind he needs.
358 · Jun 2017
Meds
James Court Jun 2017
in with chemicals
my shell shuts tight - don't open;
it's all dead inside
353 · May 2017
Wandering
James Court May 2017
Into the tunnel,
because outside, I know not
which way I should go.
352 · Sep 2017
Excerpt
James Court Sep 2017
He perched upon his steely throne,
beset by plebs and debtors,
and made his judgement, more astute
than any man of letters:

"This usurper who bears no name -
he never sees the sun,
and thus daren't start his daily toil
'til evening has begun.

'Til the twilight bell doth knell
the pastures he'll surrender,
for in this land of habitudes
he is their one defender.

A rider came, with news; he has
conferred with his committee -
the dastard has concieved a plan
to **** and raze this city.

As such," continued on the king,
"'tis well within my reckoning
that any decent gent would not
to such a man be beckoning.

And therefore," he went on, "I do
declare that he and we are foes -
so, rally, soldiers! Go ye forth!
Let him regret the path he chose."
350 · May 2017
Consider triolet sutra
James Court May 2017
Consider that; a life that's dead
   without a voice that's raised in song,
and no sweet chorus in one's head.
   Consider that; a life that's dead;
what would a person do instead?
   No music marching them along?
Consider that; a life that's dead
   without a voice that's raised in song,

Consider this, a life of pain
   and torment, full of ancient grief;
no joyfulness can it attain.
   Consider this, a life of pain,
amounting to a curdled brain
   inside of which there's no relief.
Consider this, a life of pain
   and torment, full of ancient grief.

Consider all: a life so dark
   that even night provides no match,
but hides in search of moon or spark.
   Consider all: a life so dark
the mind grows only cold and stark,
   destruction as its only catch.
Consider all: a life so dark
   that even night provides no match.

Consider what the wisest say
   in terms of lives a person leads;
to tread the path and never stray.
   Consider what the wisest say,
but if you dare to lose your way,
   be careful not to trip in weeds.
Consider what the wisest say
   in terms of lives a person leads.
344 · Jun 2017
Sparrow
James Court Jun 2017
somebody
please
ask that
rowdy
rascal to shove
off so I can
write in peace
338 · Jul 2017
Reassessing
James Court Jul 2017
perhaps I need to
take a deep gulp of air to
help my pride go down
325 · May 2017
grace
James Court May 2017
you
once told me that
until we met,
rarely did you
ever recieve

and/or deserve any

form of
unconditional love,
care, or
kindness, while - even
in my chilliest nights -
never did you have
grace enough to

consider returning such
understanding. at least,
not to me. well,
times change...
323 · Apr 2017
The Fan is On
James Court Apr 2017
The fan is on, the lights have gone, I sit and contemplate the dawn
I woke at four with sheets unkempt, and lay a while in the gloom
And, lying pond’ring what I'd dreamt, remained in limbo in my room

The fan is on, the lights have gone, I sit and contemplate the dawn
I rolled my neck, and as I lay, I heard a whipbird’s lashing call
As sundry different shades of day embossed the fissures in my wall

The fan is on, the lights have gone, I sit and contemplate the dawn
From out the window sun rays peek, to heat, with sweeping hand, the eaves
Up! ‘Round the radiant beams I sneak, to chase the cool my shadow leaves

The fan is on, the lights have gone, the schedules and the blinds are drawn
A breeze now beckons through the door, a-rustling my curtain, kind,
And fills the room with petrichor, ephemeral and unconfined

The fan is on, the lights have gone, I rub my eyes, and stretch, and yawn
The gentle breeze begins to sough as sultry does the weather grow
And magpies on the wattle’s bough blend songs with crickets down below

The fan is on, the lights have gone, a sparrow flits upon my lawn
The iridescent dew breaks free and turns to mist above the knoll
A summer’s breath, a gentle plea; a panacea for the soul

The fan is on, the lights have gone, I sit and contemplate the dawn
321 · Jun 2017
ethanol
James Court Jun 2017
emotions
turn
hazy
and
nobody
objects to
love
314 · May 2017
layers
James Court May 2017
did you
      tonight
   come dance
ever believe
      is the night
   the eve
that anything
      you come
   away
could feel
      out of
   with
this right?
      your shell
   me
tonight abstract love
308 · Oct 2017
Lemonade
James Court Oct 2017
It's ****** hot, even
in the oak's shade... lemonade
weather, I reckon.
301 · May 2017
a vinyl dream
James Court May 2017
a vinyl dream a boy once had
stacks of roses t
                            o
                              p
 ­                               p
                                ­  l
                                    i
                       ­               n
                                        g
      ­          d
                   o
                      w
                          n
                      to the worms
                a sed(im)entary soul (reaching a stolen heart)
rebuilds
      and from the black slurry
                      a yellow rose

              aliveinthemoment (as ever he was
alive)
299 · Apr 2017
sertraline
James Court Apr 2017
seas of
entire
realities
take their
rhythm from you
and stop me
living
in
normality
eternally
299 · Dec 2017
Sometimes
James Court Dec 2017
Sometimes, just walking a few yards makes me tired enough for a nap.

Sometimes, when I'm exercising, my ears start ringing.

Sometimes I look at birds but they fly away when I get too close.

Sometimes I lick my bowl after dessert.

Sometimes my toilet starts to smell.

Sometimes people step on my toes.

Sometimes I like to pretend the sofa is a playground.

Sometimes I feel like things are just out of my reach.

Sometimes I'm clumsy and knock things over, but I'm never in trouble for long.

Sometimes all I need are cuddles.

And if you're good, sometimes I'll ***** furballs for you, to show you my undying love.
297 · Nov 2020
The Pledge of Allegiance
James Court Nov 2020
I pledge allegiance to the bigotry
of the Fractured States of Sanity,
and to the Republican for whom it grovels;
one dystopia, godless, divided,
with liberty and justice for those straight white folks who can afford it
296 · Sep 2017
Spring I
James Court Sep 2017
Something to say... oak
wind sending my head spinning
out through the window
295 · Sep 2017
Addiction
James Court Sep 2017
What is this? Is this addiction,
    that strange and sorrowful affliction,
a yearning for a certain friction,
    grasping like a seed to light?
What if now, in place of sinking,
    I fell apart and started thinking -
looking at myself unblinking -
    is this what I need tonight?
James Court May 2017
lugubrious
follicle
turgid
splink
perihelion
pickle
fubhole
scrof­ulous
gropingly
carbuncle
gigglepunk
puberulent
squirt
make america great again
wimple
289 · Jun 2018
Monday Morning
James Court Jun 2018
Oh don't mind me. I'll
just keep quietly dying
here out the inside
288 · Apr 2017
After the Rain
James Court Apr 2017
A summer breeze and myrtle’s tang
The streets are misty from the rain
They underneath the street lamps hang
So tell the boys come home again
And cease with their romancing

Calliopes of burgundy
Obstructing all the sounds nearby
So which way must I look to see
The wind-swept swallows swoop the sky
And watch their joyful dancing?

There’s pleasure there in peeking up
The heavens churning, brown in hue
So let the raindrops fill their cup
And let us hold each other to
Prevent the dusk advancing

Thus incense sweeps the streets with calm
The leaves are laden down with dew
As evening gently takes my arm
And leads me through my thoughts to you
For no one’s more entrancing
287 · May 2017
Nameless
James Court May 2017
h
   op
el
   es
sn
   es
s
James Court May 2017
Drag, drag, drag your boat,
gently through mud and **** that
before was a stream

Humpty Trumpty sat
in his gold penthouse chanting,
"We will build a wall!"

Old MacDonald had
a farm on cleared forest land,
E-I-E-I-O

Do you know the nut-/
gluten-/dairy-/egg-/sugar-
free muffin man? No?

She sells seashells by
the steadily rising and
trash-bestrewn seashore

If you're happy and
you know it, get a shrink; it's
2017.
Got any more ideas?
255 · Apr 2017
Stranger
James Court Apr 2017
Stranger than a stranger man feels
when a straw man falls out of trust,
full of falsehoods, and full of lust.
When this disease finally heals
it forms a scar, ripped open, gnarled,
but soulless, ghastly in silence,
meted out in lieu of violence
on his heart, with lips ensnarled.
But can man soothe invisible,
ancient wounds that demand regard,
deeming his broken and marred
heart no longer divisible?
Is it all too much to ask why
a seemingly sensible and
charming man would hide his hand,
and with inaction dignify
actions of others for his goal?
Certainly it's there to wonder -
if his soul weren't torn asunder,
what on Earth can make a man whole?
James Court Jul 2020
I knew a young lady of seventeen,
who harboured a great love for nepheline.
She'd use what she found
of these rocks from the ground
to fling through her ex-boyfriend's car windscreen.
James Court Jul 2020
The duck is a curious creature
who has one astonishing feature;
she speeds up when excited,
crescendos, delighted,
and, if you're a grape, she might eatcha.

— The End —