Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Justan Rahming Jun 2019
Do I care if someone reads this?
Just a few words that I put together one night.
A blog wrapped in a medium of stone age art.
I spend my life building these structures,
semi representation of my underlying self
replicating a random style, theme, and form.

All this time of study on how to find rhyme,
interlocked with philosophical quandaries
and a self-reflection of my psychological state.
Winding out long hidden feelings, sending it all out,
like yelling out the window to see who actually turns.

Though, do I shout loud enough,
or do I prefer whispering to myself?
I wonder if I care if nobody reads this.
We come into life, and leave it alone for a reason,
our whole being is to be trapped behind our outward gaze.
Madness is external, so is our precious vanity.
Nobody cares, and everybody is a nobody,
So who does?

If my eyes are the last to see these words,
I ask what that means to me.
I put this out to be read,
but if it’s not
do I care?
Justan Rahming Jun 2019
His story is boring and long,
full of contradictors, who played
little to no purpose

The ending, oh that ending
predictable, and again, had
little to no purpose

I am… I am… A failure
He said

Never saw him again
but that tall tale he told
stays with me
no matter how bad
Justan Rahming Jun 2019
She sat alone with the child of her true love. A true love that will never love her back. Her eyes lift heavy with tears to a reflection of herself on the wall. Pain that only she can see, and only through a lens of tears.

Tired of her selfish view, her eyes tried to focus away from the broken face of emptiness, to focus on a picture of her love smiling beside her. His face frozen with a smile and eyes glimmering in perfect joy of the moment.

With a blink and wipe of her wrist, her eyes focused again to the image of a young girl crying on the ground. Feeling lost within life and herself, having to guide the last remainder of her love to a hopeful life to one unlike her own. She looks back at the photo that is gently placed in the plastic frame, at the photo of a man that had taken her spirit. With the face he will have forever.

And in the corner of her eye, sitting broken on the floor, a reflection of the face she too will have forever.
Justan Rahming Oct 2018
I witness the memories that I no longer have
refreshed new with refracted eye
youth be revisited, I fall in love again
frame after enamored frame
I recall upon your archaic name
filling the room with quantum spirits
lives together in symbiotic dreams
And for one moment, I am alive
over and over again
I find myself
and I am with you
Justan Rahming Oct 2018
Breathe in the brisk air of life
Breathe out the exhaust from your heart
the air around me is muggy
I cannot catch my breath
This is what it feels like
to be intimate with death
Justan Rahming Oct 2018
What I have
What I can loose
Who am I without it?

Who is Kant
Who is Hegel
Who set the first step in my home

Remember infamy
Remember astronomy
Remember autonomy
Remember polygamy

I forgot your name
Remember it for me
Justan Rahming Sep 2018
Willingness to structure situations
appearance for self patience
             mood information outside advantage

Humor                  Knowledge

Accent politeness to change choice
Next page