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Sep 2014 · 991
The Veteran
Jesse LaPointe Sep 2014
He walked briskly into a dull light

A soreness on the bridge of he and his being

Strength and Grace has left the eyes

And a long locked up flame is menaced by the cold

Leather hangs from the ghostly gladiator

Sacredness fumbling into degradation

A peaceful generation takes the younger duty

And washes away this beastly frame

His heart was drowned by the greyness

No more a beautiful engine

The dawn is taken

A darkened robbery

This struggling old guard

Forged with secrets behind the eyes

A final humble word

And a mind is done tonight
This is a foundation poem. I used two other pieces and took individual words to make up this poem. Each word is found in those two pieces and nothing is added.
Apr 2013 · 435
Dark Blue Reverie
Jesse LaPointe Apr 2013
The people come and ask me
Why the fingers run so wildly
Because they do it quietly
Though they were born quite recently
They've been doing it for awhile you see
Since they run disturbingly
The people act out viciously
But it's exactly this that we
The Dark Blue fingers and I collectively
Get along so swimmingly
We hate the sight of all you pleebs
So let us scratch you in private please
Apr 2013 · 690
Dark Blue
Jesse LaPointe Apr 2013
Dark Blue fingers run wildly
Across my listless chest scratching me mildly
Like an impatient birth, insidious babe
Crawling on fingernails down to stain the rug
In this room nicely snug
Left the husk on the bed to sleep instead
Looks at the books who sit all left unread
The tall fingers wipe across the walls making rhymes
Shouting out the window chimes
Sitting on that window pane making legs out of dust
So the sun set on these larks
And the evening takes its remarks

The city will never likely see
Such grime encrusted treachery

Dark Blue fingers run wildly
Across the wood fence where children cry at me
They long for their mothers who take them indoors
So the fingers ***** the glass of the home
And gaze to see the tomb
Of those who invite the starved fingers in
For some company and mirth over gin
And take in the crooked dark blue smile that stretches
The kids are crying wretches
Drinks are done, no more fun, for the monster's run
Is but only at a start
And the dark blue blood pumps through his heart

The city will never likely see
Such grime encrusted treachery

Dark blue fingers run wildly
Across a mantelpiece quite familiarly
The room is a laughing mad struck sickening
The monster is by the fireplace stealing
The looks of the practitioners and reeling
As the party booms on through the evening
The fingers run across those who are leaving
And wipes his bald and grimy face on their own
Taking all their thoughts they've shown
Until they each subside and then wave goodbye
Leaving the monster all alone
Muttering curses on his own

The city will never likely see
Such grime encrusted treachery

The city will never likely see
These fingers running wildly
Dec 2012 · 712
Small Victories
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
There is a land
Where the sea hardly reaches
And the crimson expands
Until the mind's wall breaches

Take them to the huts
Of the narrow minded folks
Who will teach them to lighten
Their own beastly yolks

Never will I march
With another foot again
Today this island is mine
And I'll heed to no mortal man
Dec 2012 · 897
House by the Sea
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
Fill us with mist
From a seaward assault
And look to the distance
Where the doves go to walk

A safe house of looking glass
Honoured in brine
Taking in prisoners
To make nothing of time

Faint smells of catch
For tomorrow's our feast
Father's away
On our fierce ocean deep

It caters our weddings,
Sundays, and Yule
Until the mother forgets
We abide by her rule
Dec 2012 · 536
Fleeting Stone
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
A house bird with a call
So distant and ringing
Alone on a hill
Screams last throughout the singing

Paint now of dreary hillsides
And cold empty lofts
Of torn wallpaper
And warmth all but forgot

Stand atop the crook
The dying widow's peak
And stare down at the neighbours
Who are lifeless in sleep

Stone upon stone
Lined row upon row
They've traded a hearth
For a fresh patch of snow
Dec 2012 · 730
The Roof
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
Gaze upon our curtain of Infinity
Watch our eyes
Turn your heads to our silent breath
Take in our existence
You, a note in the song of time
Our faces covering the endless
Canvas we've created
Do you not look upon one of us
With the fondness of incomprehensible more?
Have we not honoured you
With a silhouette of all being?
Century after countless century
We fan our warmth into the heavens
We hold you, we carry you
Into not a universe
But all that will be
And we do this for you
Dec 2012 · 581
War Bonds
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
Death to a flower
The season draws to an end
Stalk and leaf melt
And their heads finally bend

Settling in for sleep
Yesterday still a light thought
Crushing petals
Winter was finally caught

They lay down their pride
To a soft and easy breath
Stronger in dream
Smiling, conceding to death

Dead rest with comrades
But they too lay amongst foes
Caring nothing
With a deep sigh, so it goes
Dec 2012 · 639
Feed 'em Gold
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
The gossamer wings of pagans
Lifting their broken bodies
Miles away from home
Floating on royal silver and gold
The Pulse of a million free men
Slaughtered over fear and insecurity
The baby nations looking up
At their far away father
And down at a crowd of the ****
Dec 2012 · 710
Excavator on the Hill
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
A lonely warrior of dust and dirt
Taking eternity off his metal shoulders
Perched atop a mountain of enemies
Narrowing down the endless battles to be waged
Dec 2012 · 438
A Fleet of Buses V
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
Take me to the foreground
Where the river's wiped and wrung
Where the servants of the step
Believe the hymns they've sung
Dec 2012 · 592
A Fleet of Buses IV
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
City streets for those
Doctors and Lawyers
The kind of place
To send my pale skin
Into the gutter again
Dec 2012 · 324
A Fleet of Buses III
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
Windows to the streets
On my cheap covered tour
Daily I'll stalk
My city after four
Dec 2012 · 386
A Fleet of Buses II
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
Broken hand, broken man
Pushes through the bus crowd
Kick up the dust
With your dulled ***** cane
Dec 2012 · 661
A Fleet of Buses I
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
A walking brass band
Burn down the street
Bellow to the bystanders
Break their wicked knees
Dec 2012 · 698
Sitting on Walls
Jesse LaPointe Dec 2012
I'll mostly sit on walls dangling my feet
To tease the swarming trappers
Who nip the dead skin that falls from my soles
Like feeding fish alone in the tank
Who are submitted to the distorted faces
Of their peers amidst
The crashing waves of the surface world
Above where God and his friends are
Smoking cigarettes and listening
To the sounds of Getz
The Golden Boy
While ignoring me until they meet
The one who sits on walls
Dangling his feet.

— The End —