Joshua J Veatch: Favorites

Jan 2017 Joshua J Veatch

Savannah Charlish

Most humans drink coffee and wine
They consume television and mainstream novels
They feed their souls with popularity contests and safe relationships

But poets
We could not survive without passion, intensity, and meaning
Everything we feel is felt to the depths of our souls
We are the ones to put into words the unspeakable pain of heartbreak
The incomprehensible joy of falling in love
We are the ones brave enough to say out loud the diaries of a thousand souls

Us poets
We drink tea and whiskey

Nov 2016 Joshua J Veatch

"... ... ..."

Nov 2016 Joshua J Veatch

SG Holter

"... ... ..."

This axe was made from
Oak and
Anger.
Forged in the fires that
Shaped my cardiac
Armour.

I'll never surrender to a
Woman
Who sees love as war
Ever again.
It's been a long,
Lonely time.

But I've seen peace.
Still sacrifice to the gods,
Praying for brief, cold
Winters; for all other
Seasons to be neither.
They all have room for a

Woman between them,
But my hatred for ego
Is a burning beacon of warning
Even I myself shun.
I just want the silence.
That deep, deep silence,

Whose last word will never be:
"Me,"
But:
"... ... ..."
That, I can love.

This axe was made from
Oak and
Anger.
It beats paper; scissors; stone.
Sees me armed. And still
Alone.

Nov 2016 Joshua J Veatch

there must be a place where broken words go

Nov 2016 Joshua J Veatch

mk

there must be a place where broken words go

there must be a place where broken words go
the ones without a limb
not fully formed
not spoken right
not heard

there must be a place where broken words go
the sentences left uncompleted
the trailing words that never left the lips
the "but" and the "and"
that were always left hanging

somewhere between silence and speech
there must be a place where broken words go
full of stutters and writers block sufferers
somewhere between the "i love"
and the "you" that never followed
or the "wait"
that was whispered into the air
the "please come back"
that made peace with dying
on the corners of a turning mouth

there must be a place where broken words go
the words spoken but never heard
the letters written but never posted
the train of thought that crashed into the clouds
the words in the bottle that traveled the sea
but sunk to the bottom before it could ever reach

there must be a place where my broken words go
the stains on my diary that didn't come from a pen
and the letters on my thighs that don't make sense
the things i could never say
and the things i said that came out all wrong
all the broken alphabets in my song
that cry for salvation
for one more chance

there must be a place where broken words go
there must be a place i can call home.

#poetry #broken #words #home #silence #speech #stutter

Oct 2016 Joshua J Veatch

The theory of letting go

Oct 2016 Joshua J Veatch

Claire Elizabeth

The theory of letting go

Dear J,
   I may be at a loss for words half the time, and the other half I might have too much to say, but I can almost always say this; I love you. I have felt fear and I have felt bravery and I have felt loss. I can look pictures of us and I can recall everything we did that day. I can listen to videos of you and I can tell what you felt. And I know that you didn't think I was paying attention, but I knew how you looked when you thought something was unfair. And I knew the look in your eyes when you saw the light just right in a sunset and you knew that nothing could ever be recreated quite like that. I felt the same way about you.
   Wherever you are, know that loving someone isn't a matter of feeling something or not feeling something. It's a matter of knowing what you're feeling and when you need to let go.
   I think that people know that letting go involves unfurling your fingers and watching something fall from a great height. It's the act of following that objects downward motion that gets to us. That once it meets the ground or whatever surface it is deemed to hit, it's gone. What was there is gone. And once you think about that you think of what could have been there. That one last touch, that one last feeling of bliss that comes with knowing that the moment you wake up the sun will be shining in rivulets through fingers that tangle in hair fresh off the pillow. It's sad to know that nothing like that will happen again.
   The sun won't shine the same way. Instead it may simply fall. It won't cascade, it won't flow over the edges of noses or smiling lips. It's the same way water may lose a stone from a riverbed and from there on after it doesn't run quite the same way. But another stone, another pebble will fall in place because replacement happens.
   I guess what I'm trying  to say, is that letting go is letting someone else take a spot. In order for something else to happen you have to let your joints move out of their grip and unfold from their hold on something that wasn't meant to be held by you anymore.
   Sometimes you have to let them land somewhere new.
I only hope that it's somewhere even more beautiful than before.
            Claire

Oct 2016 Joshua J Veatch

Taxi

Oct 2016 Joshua J Veatch

mikecccc

Taxi

Take me away
driver man
go as far
as my wallet
will allow
so at least
to the next neighborhood
I hear their lawns
are as green as emeralds.

polished emeralds
at that

— The End —