Tonight I missed a shot with nostalgia because of myself.
I've become such a slave to my phone that the flashing colours in the sky could not,
would not bother me.
Everything except for the device shining in my palms was blocked out like a voice I didn't want to hear in the first place,
Except I DID want to hear it.
I want know about everything that is happening around me without burying my face so deeply into Google to find the answers I'm searching for.
Nothing ever happens to me because I'm too busy in the comfort of my own home,
upon my own couch,
on my own phone worrying about the next Facebook status
and whether or not it will be entertaining
or in need of a dose of an opinion that is my own.

I recognize that I have my own personal "cell"-mate that will follow me wherever I go as long as I don't forget it on my kitchen counter.
I am shackled to my cellphone.
It takes me in handcuffs daily,
arresting me at my own free will.
A policemen of such small character,
yet so many brains.
And I already know my rights.
I already know my rights because I've researched them enough times with my mobile text book to have them memorized.
You have the right to post a status, anything you say can and will be taken out of context.
You have a right to an opinion, if you do not have an opinion one will be appointed to you by your desire to impress those whom share a friendship with you.

I am a servant to technology.
It's as though it is a part of my anatomy.
If it's not one item of electronics it's another and it has my full undivided attention.
As connected as we are, we have all become disconnected.
No one talks anymore.
Word of mouth has become word of texting.
Important pieces of information are shared via the internet because it's easier to get it out there all at once instead of saying it multiple times.
I sadly succumb to every chime I am beckoned with as it demands I answer whomever has interupted the surfing
and scrolling
and sharing
and liking
and commenting
and posting...
I put my phone down in disbelief.
Now tell me, "What's on your mind?"

our relationship is like
you force the sun to stay on such a gloomy, rainy day
because you need her to warm your soul up
no, she couldn't shine as bright as usual

but you asked the sun to leave at night
because there is a moon
there is a constellation of stars
there are citylights
they brighten up your dark soul

and suddenly you like cold weather

and suddenly you miss a warm morning

and suddenly you don't wanna be interupted by her light

and suddenly you miss her flame


— and

all
of
the
sudden
become
a
bad
habit

Dawn a constant drunk, waves modernity on,
Nights in purple doze, while head in rags’ sat,
Mind pats window pane, sky occupied, flat
Hangs the figures that push plague, condensation
Outside is hugged in damaged and breathless car park clots.

Close the arriving scenes depress, far and close by,
Screaming seagulls sing dreams scattered wide,
Cuts the closing of now yesterday’s hope
Soul-bruise rates sit low tonight.

Danger plays path fields bedsheets house
Graceful clock plays dropped fate in loft
Echos hand by hand  between beams
Downstairs door lock snapped atoms ring
Floorboards creak quake trepidatious
Eyelids meet strange death amusements
Waiting gun hyped howls air tight
Rail, tracks, interrupted delight.

somethingtomakemedisappear
to
make
me
disappear.
if you're pregnant: shoot yourself.
              hoping: tell God to stop looking in the mirror
for the answers.
I know, that if you cut from the top of the skull
             and ***** left, you'll see clearly what you hide from
and whatever it was you called your reflection: will lose it's meaning faster than

saying goodbye.
                                                  "but I've just met you"
"he jumped in front of the train for her"                        "a last request"
       STOP LOOKING AT ME.                   "he's dead" "he's dead" "he's dead" ...in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes in your eyes in your eyes in your eyes
stop changing color                  listenlistenlistenLISTENlistenlisten
can you hear yourself thinking? quick, write it down if it's important.
think more.         read it until you've got it memorized and then take off your clothes
stare: this is your body, this is your sweat, those are your bruises: take pictures
take pictures of moments to make those moments last, be happy because you're young
be still. BE still. "I'll hold your arms down"
"it was awful, I couldn't move"           "I don't care what you think about me, I just want you to know that"
unfinished, interupted, slow motion sentences that stick in your hair like honey
and your upper lip lifted when you said it.
                               and you said it, you said it, you said it


and I didn't believe a word.
                                            Say it again because I missed it.
say it again, you're so quiet.
you ******!
                 come closer.
you spirit, stop spitting, I know what it feels like:

                      and if you can relate, it's no excuse for the things you do yourself.

What do we do when the shadow's pressing against our hope
or dragon tails whip our thoughts into a frenzy
when we struggle to walk a straight line
on paths that twist and contort?
How do we ignore the vices and voices
that mock and entice us
or lights that would blind us
from the sight of the righteous?
How do we utter our words to a lover
when doubt trips us to stutter
knowing we should speak better
but the truth is smothered to a mutter
like a snuffed candle's last splutter
or spittle from a kiss interrupted?

There comes a point when my insomnia and depression play with one another.
It's a moment where I lay in the darkness and contemplate and wait for sleep that never comes
I'll sit and wait and close my eyes in attempts to dream
But my efforts bare no fruit, so I abort them.
Just like how I aborted you.
Our relationship was toxic and so we're we to each other
It was a matter of time before it pulled me under
But now I'm paralyzed at the thought of you
And our supposed to be 2 year anniversary leaves me sad and feeling lonely
Though I'm not. He's an hour away
I need him to keep you away
You've interupted my thought process and I can't help but notice
How you've manipulated my body into wanting you.
But my brain and heart know better and they stay away
They put up their walls and nothing will ever escape.
That is until the time I see you again
And I feel like crying because you're no longer my friend
But that's okay, time heals all wounds
Well youd think but, I'm not amused.
So I'll just lay here crying and wondering what to do
And asking myself how
The **** can I get over you?

I felt a tap on my shoulder, so I looked
standing there stood he
only coming up to my shoulder
i smiled in a friendly way
i knew not what he wanted
i offered him money, he turned away
i offered him food, he turned away
I knew not what to do, so I frowned
then he tapped me on the shoulder
said he "Mister, I need one thing"
I nodded for him to go on
"Sit down" he said
I sat and as I did he looked at me
"Now please, talk"
And as I did, the boy never interupted
at last i looked over, he was fast asleep
a smile upon his lips

Still night,
Interupted through carnage dreams,
Communication cut tight,
Feeding childish curiosity,
Recycled induced fear,
Cringing into safety.
Eyes clamped shut,
The inevitable sight of fright,
Vacant sheets,
Twirling round and round,
Bright shadows illuminate humanistic curves,
Curtsied into the darkness of cover.
Bumps in the night singing
In tune to mythical belief,
Heavy breath heated in echoed conversation,
Being watched,
Sinister eyes teasing pain,
Indefinitely a poisioned child.
Anxiety destroying rationlization,
Room of mystical wonder,
Vacant everlong ,
Silence torn asunder,
Street light orchestra play for her.

Life seems like a series of moments, that the greatest loves of our lives come and are gone before we realized what had come and gone.

Such is life, but seemingly long pauses interupted with moments sublime.

I was sitting in the dark
While the dog started to bark
But I was so lost in my mind
That not even the dog interupted my mind
I thought of how my life is about
I thought of my country and it's where abouts
I though of my people who suffer for food
And how I am hopeless to to lift off the load
I wanted to give them hope
But I could not lie to make them feel good
The world have no mercy
Not even a human life is considered worthy
Hate is the new fashion and selfish is our passion
Give your heart and you are weak be kind and you are stupid and people let you weep
You know it's hard to live like this
But I hope you and I can change this
It is difficult to accept change but it's the only way to make people live safe.
To love each other even if it's the only way
Cause in the end we are all the same
We are made from the same sand and mud
We should love each other and in God we should trust

I love to preach the Gospel of Jesus of Jesus Christ.
Pastored in five different churches over a period of 40 years.
These were small country churches averaging 10/20 adults
So I had to work at employment while Pastloring

But one day my health interupted my ministry
so I was forced to resign Pastoring, but not preaching
I  was yet able to preach from time to time, here and there
filling in for Pastors on vacation, sick and short interims.
  
Ond day someone suggested  go on Face Book Live,
Which I have been doing for about a couple of months.
So all you my poet friends, I invite you to go to Face Book
and type my name, Jerry, and hear me preach.
                          THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
                             Jerry Howarth

(april 2020)

..day 36..

i find i have built a cocoon, a nice place to be
shielded
yesterday was interupted by reality a while

& failed early
busy i was

drawing the japanese with their found fabrics
watching the marks come good, no smudging
intended
yet it came
without warning

you see there is not such a thing
not like in the war there were sirens

they still tested them down the end
of our road when i was a child & I
listened in wonder & was afraid

then

there were the stink poles outside
too and up the hill a big chimney
where they burned the waste

there are two of them as there often
is
reflecting each other yet
spot the difference

they say there may be spots too
i went once with those like in comic
red dots all over

he said it was an immune reaction &
i still get two on bad days

we talked about that yesterday
immunity responses & other
guidance

so james i wearied early with it all
talked about the goats up the crimea
slept well
know that
this is a another day