Poet's Showcase

Just Journaling

Well. I was called into the local physician’s office Monday. What I was told was with medication (more fucking pills) and strict diet I may be a few years away from a potentially-fatal heart attack. News like this automatically transforms everyday "problems" into little things that dry up like dead flowers and barely leave their stain behind to be dusted off with slow fingers of contemplation. That was my Monday, missed class bla bla bla.

Tuesday. I’m sitting here typing, living the very sedentary lifestyle that has seemingly doomed me. I hear a surge, then a small explosion, look outside, become the coolest mad man I can be, running back and forth trying to find the smoke (while thoughts of not having kept up the insurance are woven into my mind like a spider’s web) that I am now smelling from an evident, electrical fire. Walk into the master bath, it’s full of white smoke. The smoke appeared to be coming up from the floor, underneath the toilet. I was about to rip the damn thing out of the floor, before this thought had a chance to be analyzed for logic, merit, and so forth. But I quickly realized that-that just couldn’t be the case. So, I went through the wall behind it, found the smoke but still couldn’t see the fire. Then I walk around, and as I told my friend Mike, tore a path to the access wall, then, well, tore the wall down with my bare hands, found the fire, put it out, suffered smoke inhalation, feel like shit now, missed class bla bla bla.

But I (the mad man) refuse to let fire consume my home, and I (the warrior) refuse to die as well. It’s going to be a fight, but I been fighting in one way or another, whether it be for peace, my sanity, or my breath, my whole life. So I say, although I am a pacifist, to any man or heart disease, make sure your gloves are laced up tight before you step in the ring with me.

Two Tiny Stones

As I sat in my pea-graveled sidewalk of faded color,
staring at the tiny stones as I had been moments before,
staring at the cliched simplicity of bee and fall
flowered exquisiteness of nature’s beauty with no other

thoughts than the images that laid before me,
I reached for it, a transparent piece of rock truth.
Was this the same pebble Frost noticed in the bottom
of that well?...Place this truth in the light. Watch the light
bounce and expel. Now slow down the process. Watch it

bend in my hand as I heard cards made of feathers
shuffling . . . .
in the overhead air. Turn to look. Sparrows pass
by in the glare
of sun, and I smile. Then I see another stone,
a smooth
blackness balances. Is this truth?....
then the other one must be love.

Please

Make no mistake: this is not symbolism, nor is it poetic, nor anything other than unmasked thought, "words of wisdom," words of warning and love.

Please everyone. I know life flies past our heads at an enormous rate of speed sometimes, and unexpected bills and costs seem like the world’s falling apart at our feet and piles up to our eyes. But go have a check up. Find out what you are at risk for. And please be tested for whatever it may be. Eat right. Don’t sacrifice your health for convenience. Be around, for your kids, or the ones you love most, or the ones you miss most, for every single person you love. Never let one day pass that you neglect to tell someone you love that very thing. They deserve it. You deserve it. And dive deep into what you love, what inspires you to become a better person, for in the end, all we have is our character, and the measure of that character, to ourselves and to others, are the memories we leave behind. Remember the pain. It is the pain that loves us most. And always live with the purpose to love.

silence sounds
like it's listening
to me, awaiting
my very next move

"Spooky Sexy"

I still stop sometimes
sometimes, to look into her eyes

sometimes her skin inhales me deep into her mind
and sometimes she stays, a little longer than she should

Poetry Contest

The contest is now free.

Just type "The Endless Saga"
into the subject box when entering.

Spread the word around.

Intervals of Light

The light comes on.

cold rain
cling in drops
of shiny

beaded introspection
hanging on . . . to illumination

The light goes off.

cold rain
cold like thin
ice, slow like t r a n s l u c en t

spider-webbing sounds
creeping...across...the grass

The light comes on.

cold rain
taps on thin
metal

with no
clear sign
of rhythmic

balance

each drop
the first
of its kind

Mary's Hideaway

Lucidity's Neon Light

she peeks into this
night with her one eye gazing
through a blue aura

to the earth on which I stand
and we both understand why

Feedback

Can I get a little feedback, please.

This project is definitely underconstuction,
but I've some tunes in place.

How does the music sound?
Does it play alright?

Is this a worth while project?
Or am I wasting my time? (a lot of time. fucking dial up)

Thank you.

~ James

(be back in an hour or so)

limbo

poetry crawls up
to me. scurries away.

frightened by
squirming lines
on acid trip road map thoughts to nowhere

poetry crawls up
to me. scurries away.

before I can catch it.