"jax" poems
*running by your side
divinity colliding
sparks my soul anew
©2016janetaylor
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
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.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC
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
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
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.
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 10:07 PM UTC
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*
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC
"With the awareness comes periods of days, sometimes weeks, when I have to avoid looking into a mirror. My self hate is so deep, so palpable, I fear I'll lunge at my own image, shatter the glass and cut myself with shards of broken reflection."
~Jax Teller (Sons Of Anarchy)
The mirror reflects images
Of past things I'd like to forget
Memories project ghosts that faded
Long ago after I built up my regrets
And that reflection shines through
All the different scenarios
Of this life that I've lived through
And heartbreaks, everywhere I go
Heartbreak, heathens, hounds and Hell
What wonderful whispers the mirror has to tell
I've heard them before - **** - they came from my core
Love was the loathing that turned into lore
**** the person in the mirror
The truth could not be clearer:
A monster spawned once the medicine cabinet filled with liquor
You hate me? Join the ******* club
I'm the ******* dartboard at the local pub
Then comes the crashing, the breaking, the cuts and bruises
Spectrums of pieces and shatters of truths
And yet it all just reflects right back to mistakes from our youth
The mirror, just an ugly reminder of shame with all the proof
But what can we do? How can we forget?
The images of the past can't change how they reflect
From another angle we could possibly alter the effect
But no altercations can take away the pain and regret
I take a walk to distance me from myself,
but there is no harbor for demons hiding from Hell
I tried my damnedest to become better,
but despite how earnest, I only grew bitter
Now, being sober just gives me the jitters
I can't be alone with the Devil inside
I can't change things when the problem is I
People see me and they are befuddled
I see only a shell when I pass by these puddles
Empty, that's all that's left of me
Nothing, there's nothing left to see
The mirror is blank, a black hole
Drained into space, the remnants of my soul
Blank reflections shattered against my heart
Feeling of hate and self doubt ripping me apart
The eyes staring back at me have no emotions
Wide gazes and high tides like endless oceans
This nothingness is completely consuming me
My life, love and happiness have been swept out to sea
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 5:34 PM UTC
Jax slinks to the bowl
swipes a paw across the brink
litter in his drink
Java to the sink
jumps up to drink faucet drops
before they ker-plink
M J stops to think
before deigns to take a drink
lynx philoso-fur
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 3:27 PM UTC
Driftwood, basking,
in the early morning sun,
beside the stillness of
the water;
the day has just begun.
Warmness, creeping,
up my back and neck,
pastoral scenes abide,
at my call and beck.
Coots and loons, float by,
in a wet and dreamy landscape,
Jax and I are strolling,
it's our eight a.m. escape.
Cormorants speed by,
in fast and hectic flight,
bound for who-knows-where,
they're awesome in the light.
The walk is quite refreshing,
nature's face unfurled,
and today, at this one moment,
all's right, with all the world.
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC
Jax,Lily,Flawless,Marta,Dr.Shweta,Shiv,Neeraj,Dg.
Emeka,Miss,Jules,Bridgett,Salim, Joceyn,memoona.
Sampreeta,daud,Stephanie,Grace,No name,Eloisa.
Hijenduanao,Kauthar,Damien,Joye,Marta,Narendra.
Jolene, Perry, Freebird,Surbhi,Godawan,Ikimi,tm,
Xaela,try,S Nirmal,Astrea,Erin,Mindless,Lace,HB.
AP,Timur,Kasidee,Caterra,the untold,Melancholy.
Melanie,mckenzie, clark,beebz,sherri,bryan,bakunawa.
khaliyah,brianna,Ay2brutus,Angel-like,Maxx,Lure ***
Mike, me zeal, Kim,Kim,Maeiby,Shanath,Marshall,xallan.
Weeping Willow,Mike Hauser,Serena,AnnMarie,DavidLewis.
JenniferJohnson, itgonnamakesense,Mike Essiq,Nancy.
Olivia,Paul,Mark,Phil,PoetressBhumi and Wilyam Pax.
Here some more love you all, I pray that you are blessed.
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 5:44 PM UTC
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.
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
The darkened roads of the night,
Will soon see the morning light....
As I drive down the hwy of I-10
I see my old city as this trip will end..
It brings up thoughts of the past,
that quickly change to the future...
I am now in the city of New Orleans,
as I will soon begin to wake....
What's on the streets is the homeless, drunk and me....
I park in the french quartes and make sure not to get towed...
I wall to the river and what do i see....
Two young girls kissing on a bench...
A homeless man making no sense...
And a man on a bike without a life...
I then myself gaze upon the river,
As the sun comes up, so do my thoughts...
Watching the tugs push barges,
and the ship's filled with life...
It's a lonley romance the city life..
Yet filled with adventure for live of the night...
Sitting in the exact same place on the railroad tracks as a child...
It was 3 am in the morning, I was smoking *** and watching a recking ball, tear down Jax Brewrey for a mall.
Thought of the past how quick they come and go... How we lose them and choose them is not for me to decide...
Back to the streets as the city come alive... The city will now begin to strive...
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
the ones of courage
stood up to bravely defend
they saw that injustice
was in need of amend
others looked away
not seeing an infraction
yet the valiant warriors
forwarded into action
they dared to do
what was right
and didn't shun
the just fight
showing conviction
was JAX and Kim
who stood up to advocate
for the apt Jim
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
A Child’s First Safety-Deposit Box
For Kirk Briggs
A dime-store pocket watch that doesn’t run
A tiny magnifier for aiming the sun
A bit of chalk, glass marbles, crayon stubs
A pencil or two worn down to the nubs
A pair of dice gained in a school-yard trade
A cheap pocket knife with a broken blade
A pocket calendar from just last year
A bottle-opener that says “JAX BEER”
A shotgun hull, and little toy cars -
A box is for treasures, not Dad’s cigars!
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 7:37 AM UTC
Arriving in a July rain
Was born the future bard Jax Reed
Raised in the fields of sugar cane
As a young teen he jumped a train
Seemed destined to do ***** deeds
Arriving in a July rain
Yet in prison he found his brain
Thinking about his life’s creed
Raised in the fields of sugar cane
As an old man he seemed quite sane
He started riding a white steed
Arriving in a July rain
His stories lived through his son Bane
A legacy that left good seed
Arriving in a July rain
Raised in the fields of sugar cane
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 12:28 AM UTC
on gray hard streets we pounded out our youth
amidst tightly knitted cobble stone pathways
and shining windows always kept clean
struggling strong immigrants far and wide
teemed fruitfully through long days
and playful front stoop games
ring a leeveo and johnny on a pony
stick ball, jax and my favorite skellzey
mostly happy but deadly too
many ways of speaking were spoken
cultures clashed but soon subsided
in quiet civility and tamed calm
that all efforts would bring ahead more
bright days and simple luxuries
a streetside chat... a day at Orchard Beach
breezy stroll through Crotona Park...
a picnic by water's edge and maybe a hooked flounder
pale afternoon sun would blaze firey red at sunset
then pink and purple painted effortlessly
across our sleeping skies
we longed just for friendly pushing around
flirting with the girls when the nerve came up
and smart challenges of who could do what
when and how
for then that time, our time it was
all just a dream a day and the glories
of growing up...
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
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....
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
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.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
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.
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 4:47 AM UTC
September morning;
bright, fresh and clean;
autumn's in the air,
felt, but yet, unseen.
The dawn is past,
the day is nigh;
I greet the sunshine,
with a joyous sigh.
I drink in deeply,
the breath of early morn;
view the placid lake,
the sunflowers adorn.
Jax tugs gently on his leash,
the spring is in his walk;
he nudges grass aside,
among the flower's stalk.
Man and his best friend,
on their daily stroll;
each on his own path,
each with his own goal.
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 12:57 PM UTC
In a world of silence
I run on batteries
walk a mile or two
on wrinkled aging knees.
Hearing nothing as I sleep
most things won't wake me up
I sit in awesome silence
and sip my coffee cup.
Closed caption on the t. v.
informs me of the news
the world is still divided
violent, bitter, bruised.
Time for my daily walk
check the batteries, they're fine
attach the hearing aids
the sun begins to shine.
My dog waits patiently
with uncomplaining love
it's a chilly wintry day
I reach to take my gloves
The air is frosty clean
I leave the car at home
and step with Jax, off the curb
in the neighborhood, to roam.
Dec 4, 2019
Dec 4, 2019 at 10:44 PM UTC
did you know
that jax
and snacks
sound similar
you see
it's because the "ax" and "acks" make a similar sound
also my father hit me
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 5:16 PM UTC
With inner child,
I rummage through an attic.
Boxes line corners unlabeled
Shadows from window lead inquisitive mind.
Low and behold,
a time capsule I find
filled with memories sacred.
A cigar box reproduction of a treasure chest
painted gold is filled with toys
only child could understand.
A few MARBLES are indications of wealth
where coins were used
to trade for valuable objects.
A SPINNING TOP the key to open portals where
freedom became reality.
A collection of COWBOYS AND INDIANS
resting together both sides in truce
after years of battle.
A FEATHER filled with magic to make one
fly in dance gracefully like birds.
green and red JAX AND *****
that was company on rainy days.
A SHELL that held secrets when brought to ear.
And a good luck CHARM
fitting in child’s hand that held many a wish.
The best part of its find was that it sat on a MAGIC CARPET used to travel across galaxy with fairies
when nap time was instrumented by mom.
Me thinks I feel a senior moment
coming on now where nap calls.
Let the journey begin.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 12:04 PM UTC
2,000, five hundred feet higher,
it's ten degrees cooler up here;
than the place where I now live
watching the green cacti near.
From where I am, I can't see it,
I'm too far to the north and east;
but the views I do have, are great,
Verde Valley's a high desert feast.
The peaks behind Flagstaff's are lovely,
Eighty-nine A winds her way to Jerome;
and a shelter of pines line my footpath,
as we amble and stride and do roam.
Jax - is my faithful companion,
adorable, trustworthy...true;
a canine that I can call buddy,
he's with me in most things that I do.
The road is a thousand feet lower,
like a concrete snake amid trees;
Wood-Chute mountain's enchanting,
as once more, I return, to just see.
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 1:17 AM UTC
no new tricks, my fr'en' Jax, he say, you may learn.
did that happen to you? getting old,
did it happen for you?
did you make that happen?
In my youth, I aimed for an end,
then found life goes on
and I asked,
what haps
when you ask
super, but natural, forces,
wind and water, or
sun and soil to be in your favor?
It's like the movies, only you direct the action,
--- ah, rhett or rick,
give a **** play it again, Sam I am
--- y'lost this trick,
--- this old man came rolling home,
(Sisyphus gimme a shove, from the top)
See ya,
in the funny papers, yeah,
we said that.
wayback when Krazy Kat was gay.
yes ,oh, no, you lost it all.
Life past,
you failed to pay attention,
you ignored the
ignorance growning around you,
as you aged
full of grace, accepting today
as the starting point.
from here you can see forever,
pay attention,
ever learning, never learning
ever
ever, ever, ever this
last bit of what can be known
lost on the info-super-highway that
Al Gore used to make global
warming seem like
some new thing. Old men who paid
attention
never fretted. We remember polio
and marching dimes giving hope a
booster shot on a sugar cube,
love being more than a four rune symbol,
we used to wake
merry boat rowers who believed,
as they were told,
life is a dream to
dread getting old in.
Hear, ol Adam Clayton Powell laff'n'say
"Keep the faith, Baby" then choke on all
the lies he left for a legacy.
He died, maybe never knowin'
what magi know of faith these days.
make note, young dreamer,
Magi and magic shall never be unlinked.
row
row
row, or turn around and flow.
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 11:55 AM UTC