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JW Jan 2015
***
Supposedly
Solves everything it
Seems
JW Jan 2015
That moment you feel
like your reality is held together by
mis-laced bits of duct tape and chewing gum
that borderline twilight
dancing between sanity and rage
the seams slowly unraveling
the cloth comes undone
revealing naked truth beneath
that we are all stark raving mad
who'd want to stay alive
in this hell hole
we call a world
JW Jan 2015
I'm lost and I don't know my way
The sky is hidden from me
I can't find my northern star
I do not long for ecstasy
Nor crave eternity
I desire oblivion
the halting of all emotion
Love, sorrow, joy , hate
The silence that preceded
The universe's birth
that will once more be heard at her death
In memory of my legacy
Forget me
JW Jan 2015
I have forgotten how to weave worlds
To knead words
And with a twist of inflection
A hint of intent
Send them spinning
A veritable solar system
Please give them back
I can't do without
These baubles
My imaginary worlds
JW Jan 2014
Why is it when we ****
It's ******
When He kills
It's judgment?
Why is it when we take by force
It's theft
yet when He takes by force
It's reclaiming?
Why is it when we rage
It is sin
yet when He rages
it is righteous?
How is it that when we forgive
We remember
But when He forgives
He forgets?
It could be that He is perfect
He did say it was good.
So, why is man flawed?
Why would the embodiment of perfection
Create the imperfection
The colossal mistake
That is man?
In a bit of a writing rut so decided to post poems i had worked on years ago and more or less hid from the public eye. trying to see how my voice has changed over the years and where it's heading.
JW Jan 2014
And some fell by the wayside
Their hearts hard as stone
Yet claiming to be flesh
These were torn out
Eaten by birds then crushed
for that is all rock is good for
Crushing into dust
Ps. before anyone worries, I'm ok. just been finding so many old poems from when i was 19
JW Jan 2014
I look out into the world and see all this beauty
And my heart runs wild
As sensations I’ve never imagined rush through it
And I want so badly to create these wonders
I want to mould beauty
So I start
Eager, young, naive
I begin
Trying, working, struggling
My teacher shows me how
I try some more
A kind soul corrects me
I continue trying
But before I show anyone my beauty
I see a version more perfect
More beautiful
And I let mine fall
I wake up
No longer young
or naïve
or eager
Doubtful,
Aged,
I wake
my dream shatters
I let it fall
And I sit and try to shed tears
But can’t for I am too old for that
I sit
watching this version of beauty pass by
I know you will say
We should not compare ourselves with others
You will say
there will always be greater and lesser people than ourselves.
But in truth
what is to be human?
To live amongst people
To be thankful when around those with less
To find it hard to do the same when those arond have more.
I know you will say
We each have our type of beauty,
One we can give,
One that will move someone,
One that will belong to someone
It will be their version of beauty
Their perfection
And I think
I decide that you are right
I pick up my pieces
Get back to work
Finally I’m done
My beauty is perfect in my eyes
I lock it away in a place where none can find it
I keep it.
Once in a while
I look at it
Once in a while
It moves me
Once in a while
It makes me smile
For none else can see it and find fault in it
None else can crush it
Since it is mine
I can never destroy it
Once in a while
It’s my perfection,
My beauty


I say all this
But I Lie to myself
For each time I look at my beauty
Look at my perfection
It looks dull
Unpolished
And no matter how hard I want to try
Always unfinished.
Though I have all the time in the world.
It hurts
I am my own worst judge.
Beauty is the reason we create
Why the vampire lives forever
Why a single note of the orchestra
freezes hearts for one breath
Why a simple melody will move souls
Yet stop the evening breeze from being felt
They are all perfect
that’s what I want
Laughable
How can I possibly get there?
What was I thinking
Assuming.
I should just let it fall one last time
For beauty is clearly not meant to come from me
Just observed,
Some are made to create beauty
I was made to be moved by it.
So what do we do then?
For I had dedicated my life to creating beauty
Now what?
Why did I have to see their beauty?
Why did I foolishly look?
For the funny part is
They are my image,
or maybe I’m the cheap imitation of theirs.
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