let me introduce you to my old friend
Jax (Jackson) Hate
ladies and gentlemen
tell 'em about yourself
why don't you, you're the writer
I've known Jax for as long as I can remember
UK to US
kids to teen to?
to a sentimental ***
He's an *******, but he's my *******
He kept me safe
kept me laughing
when I was lost he found me
stop you're making me wet
I love him
really - I do
I'd love me too
The scruffy, scatter brained, *** crazed, sarcastic sociopath is more than blood to me
My imaginary friend who leaped straight from somebody else's nightmare to rescue me
You looked so pathetic, let's be honest, I didn't really have a choice.
He was the one who went straight for the cricket bat in playground scraps
taught me everything I know about manipulating women
You'd still just be loving your right hand every night if we never met
Yeah, but I'd still be in college
Yeah? Rotting away with the other soon to be bovine corpses? Stellar plan my man. ******* A
No, now we rot alone
Smells more like waiting for the legend to take hold. We'll own this world by proxy.
Me, I'm a kid who writes
Jax?
He's a murderer at heart
the hurricane to my calm, rippling koi pond
You forget I'm a misogynist.
I don't know if he's here to stay
I don't know if I ever want him to leave me
no longer mutually parasitic
*the ******* end

Among the boulders- I escaped the wind,
settled for the shelter of the rocks;
just me and Jax and no one else,
on our daily different walks.

Jax never made a sound, no barks,
he was contented on this hike;
man's best friend was mine,
everyplace we went...he liked.

Even walking city streets,
strolling avenues;
I cured our boring morning,
as we chased away our blues.

Two vagabonds, just walking,
for exercise and joy;
a bond that lasts forever,
that death cannot destroy.

Perhaps we'll walk in heaven,
treading sacred clouds;
invisible to others,
two happy, wandering shrouds.

I.

Everything meets
in the middle,

all that is
and was
and done
or said

eventually.

So they say while
the fulcrum creaks
and the lever sags.

     That’s where
     they’ve
     lost there way.

Take two magnets and
try to push them together
to meet at center, instead
they slide from side to side
and go around, no force
can bring them together.

     I say everything
     that goes around
     comes back this way,

the wrong way,
to haunt or remind us
but never to the middle,
never offering peace.

Maybe that's why
some say suicide
is a valid option,
as if to trick
the sacred balance,
sneak up on
magnetic rejection
and force your way
to center.

     Sometimes I dwell
     on the mystery of
     Golden Gate.

Such a sacred place,
the breeze, the sun,
her hypnotic beauty
and the fact that
no one jumps at
night.


II.

Nero:    "Jax, do you believe in Karma?"
Jax:       "Not today"
  
     But I believe.
     I believe because
     I have lived it.

     My Karma is Grace
     and I can’t tell you
     how many times she
     has found me,

always where I didn’t go willingly,
dragged by a massive darkness
and held up high while the weight
of death sat across the divide
on the other end of the teeter-totter.

Seated together on the
hard linoleum floor of
the kitchen we played
for what seemed hours
With a small rubber ball
and ten metal JAX
I honed my skills on those
rainy days when we were
not allowed outside to play
From the classic onesy
until achieving all ten
for victory, the game
was always simple & fun.
Perfecting the bounce
was always key and
cat liked dexterity
made someone a dangerous
player to defeat.

Hers was always the only soul I ever wanted to absorb entirely.
She's the only reason I write weird **** like that.
Before her, I was plain and thought words were just empty sounds breaking through our silence when we felt like.
Before her I thought movies were for entertainment like Insidious or Rambo,
not feelings like The Perks of Being a Wallflower or Blue is the Warmest Color.
Understanding the world was the least of my worries.
But with her gorgeous insightfulness waking me every morning, I'd gotten used to curiosity and enlightenment.
I wanted to feel the world's love and soak in every perfect ending.
I wanted to listen to the voices and grasp the thickness of the meanings etched into their words.
Every laugh I heard I saw happiness.
And when I look at her I feel the entire universe hugging us as we dance along to heartbreak in The Front Bottoms' lyrics.
I want to hear her voice above all others because making sweet love to her and drenching her body with the promise of forever, well that's the one that stands out the most.
And she calls my name like I never dreamed anyone could.
The poetry she reads me is the most imaginative and splendid and I want to write like her.
To put more beauty into my font.
And I try to make the world my muse.
It'll never be as good as hers.
Because everything that ever was, is her muse.
And mine could only ever be her.

When I was a kid
I wanted a pet cat.
A disney cat.
Simba or Copa.
Do you remember Copa?
Do you remember the excitement
of your imagination
post movie
when its catchy music
that made want to dance.
A dance made of
skipping and jumping jax
with imaginary pompons and maracas

I find it odd how as time goes on we find a reason to set down even our most valuable possessions in place of something new..

Something you had once sworn to be your life-blood can become more like your daily bread.


Not necessarily   necessary....


I guess even diamonds lose their lustre at some point....

The bear grass looks so lush,
in the fading of the light;
it's pleasure on my vision,
as the day turns into night.

The breeze is soft and gentle,
like a lover's sweet caress;
the coolness is a balm,
in this eve of summer's rest.

Jax leads me by his leash,
he knows the way back home;
there is no pressure tugging,
it's like he's free to roam.

In the distance, mountains,
take on a purple hue;
pastoral hills abound,
the sky grows darker blue.

The evening's walk's refreshing,
it clears the mind and soul;
erasing turbulence,
easing living's toll.