Jesse Ramon Claudio

Jesse Ramon Claudio Jan 2019

This world is celebrating a new found existence while I'm just calculating the distance of my head falling to the floor.
Its a new year, a new hope for the hopless
Theres a casual affair with the maiden next door
And when that doesnt work i know where the dope is.
Its Underneath the floorboards, next to my crushed heart and broken dreams,
Washed up fantasies and unstitched seams.
Because Ill be incapacitated this new year
Kept away from the pain and the fear
Of being sober enough to face my own reflection
Hidden from the complexion of my stone cold eyes, the consistent mellow stench that looms around my scars, and the blatant mistakes in the shadows.
The heart breaks and callous hands
That are both held together by shackles and brands.
I will not remember anything,
Plunging down into a new year.

Depression strijes again this year

#depression #newyears #holidays #blues #sadness #hopless

Jesse Ramon Claudio Nov 2018

A sentence to the world

Death stands at the edge of the valley of man and slowly claps his hands...
Clap...

Clap...

Clap...

"Nice try, my friends."

#death #friends #life #cityofman

Jesse Ramon Claudio Nov 2018

Individualism

The real subjectivity of life is overwhelming;
Prospective consumes our frontal cortex
But there is no escape from this vacuum seal.
We see the faces of our own delight,
The know how of the here and now,
But we are too blind to look past our own perspectives.
Even when we fathom the hearts of others,
Our understandings are predisposed to our own Identity.
Objectivity is a fleeting notion of reality, of truth
and its as though the ground we hold so dearly
Is constantly fleeing from our grasp.
Today we call this individualism,
a disconnect between one's self and society.
But I so selfishly and foolishly believe
that this chasm stems from being lied to so often.
Am I lying to myself or am I being lied to I do no know,
but it is important to understand that it does not matter
that nothing matters, because everything exists in my field of view.
The only question remains: am I correct
Or has the devil made me a fool?
But this does not confirm nihilism
only hints at its initial potential.
Yet there are common truths that are irrefutable
no matter who you are, real or not:
The reality is the here and now,
No matter what ghosts or demons there may be.
They affect the consciousness constantly
indifferently to whether or not they are fraudulent or true.
And my experiences are true, the emotions are radical,
and even if everyone I know is a figment and interpretation,
they still hold a grasp onto my withering heart.

Wanderings

#nihilism #individualism #hopelessness

Jesse Ramon Claudio Feb 2018

Under a willow tree

A girl sits beneath a willow tree
alone, pondering the branches,
embracing the cracks of the bark
while the scenery around her
flutters away in the bitter wind.
The secluded still point she had
built for her own protection
peaks at the last drop of breath
and roles off of her bottom lip,
but does not completely vanish.
Her thoughts of then and now
pile up onto an abundance of polluted
picture books, stacked beneath
the leaves of the tree. However,
they too flutter away with the wind,
lost in the sea of empty desires
and leave her to ponder the tree;
Only the old willow tree remains.
Her eyes trace the the divide
between the willow and the nothingness,
and she could feel the weight of nothing
pressing down on the branches.
The abundance of absence tugging
each limb closer and closer to her feet
and yet closer to the edge of nothingness.
The willow is now her pondering home,
the place where her free-most self
is trapped under the convexity
of her dearly beloved willow tree.
She sits and sits and wonders the beyond
of nothingness, but feels no inclination
to leave her familiarity, her home.
The bark forms her armor, the grain
becomes her fortress, and the trunk
is her best friend, whom keeps her warm.
She sits and sits, and will continue to sit,
forever more, forever less.

For my dearly beloved girlfriend who struggles with depression, anxiety, and paranoia.

#willow #tree #branches #nothingness #depression #anxiety #paranoia

Jesse Ramon Claudio Feb 2018

The Birds in the Dark

The Birds in the dark love to clap
they do not sing under the shadows,
but revel in their calamity
and clatter throughout the echoes

The Birds in the dark see all,
yet are blind to the sight,
but see everything they want
and stumble upon the branches

The Birds in the dark know best,
they understand the understanding
but search ever so superficially
and do not find the burrowed worm

The Birds in the dark never rest
they flutter 'till the world's end
but never discover land dry,
and remain in the haul of my arc.

The Birds in the dark will die.

Feb 2018

wordvango

Look

Recharge then....rest....relax meditate dream about us under our Willow tree cats dogs around maybe a goat
A chicken the sun
Setting
So....
Look...on the horizon...right in between here there and yonder, on the last light of sun through the whispering willow branches dancing for us seems a path on the black night a light through the distance a view of us glancing at heaven together

Jesse Ramon Claudio Apr 2017

Our silence

It's been 4 months since we've spoken last, but 4 years since we've ever felt connected. You say I rejected you, but I've only respected you. Our perspectives viewed are identical twins lined up on the chopping block. We've got the looks and the brains of successful successors, but the hearts of two weary men with weary lives laid down to die. Gray clouds cover our minds with a rain fall that will never completely fade away. We look at cloudy mirrors and expect a corrected view, but project you and I as different from each other. we are one in two and two of three. We don't listen to each other,
But ******* this is a two way street. We we haven't spoken, and yes I know we are both broken toys not yet fixed, fixated on our differences forgetting our similarities, However we are blood. Right now blood rivals slinging mud, but one time long ago we were a thing called love. A brotherhood that stood as tall as we could build snow castle fortresses in our front lawn at christmas, and they were fairly tall, at least from my five year old perspective, but those times have melted. Maybe our eyes have gotten older and we need corrective lenses for us to refocus our hearts. Or maybe our bodies are tired of the ******* we put them through so the bags under our eyes decided to swallow us whole. Or there's hole in our brain that dictates how we see the world and for me that's black and for you that's blue. It's why we beat each other senseless every time we walk in the same room, Why are mind games are sloped to have each other lose, and why we see each other in different views.
It's true we aren't brotherly anymore. But is it my fault, is it yours? We play the blame game on a daily basis, we might as well call it a violent game of "tag, its your fault". because ever time we pass on our burden of blame we lengthen the fault line between us. It now takes 4 months to even see each other. And 4 years to even speak. Weeks pass by and the only response I get is a thumbs up in the form of an emoticon. Not even a full word. Why couldn't we be like every other family? Even if they fight like hell they still speak to each other. But you and I have only dead silence. Inferred violence that quakes our home every time we set sail our fleet. And I speak for the both of us...
We need peace, but not silence