Follow my Tik Tok & Patreon

Hey all!

Just another quick post to say thanks for all the likes and follows, and a polite reminder for you to join my Patreon. Joining supports my poetry and you will gain access to my blog THE WEEKLY PROTEST, only available on Patreon.

And just an fyi, if you want even more free content, I have become a voracious tik toker, especially since I no longer check Twitter. I have even crossed my first threshold with over 1100 followers (5k here I come!😊)

Be sure to follow @thepoetjamesjjackson for:

1. poetry livestreams

2. dad jokes

3. random rants and musings

Thanks again for all the love and know I’m sending it all back as much as I can. I wish I had the time to read every single one of your blogs. ❤

As It Is

As It Is

https://jamesjjackson.com/2020/10/12/as-it-is/
— Read on jamesjjackson.com/2020/10/12/as-it-is/

Reblog of a poem I write in college.

Your Likes are My Crystal Meth

No ideas. Writers block. Fuck it, just put something on the page, then hit post. But what if it doesn’t make sense? Doesn’t matter, hit post, keep …

Your Likes are My Crystal Meth

The Weekly Protest | My Father and Charles Bukowski | James J Jackson on Patreon

Join James J Jackson on Patreon to get access to this post and more benefits.
— Read on www.patreon.com/posts/46364808

Relapse Dance

It’s not an addiction,

if it’s fun.

Dance, dance away.

It’s not an addiction.

It’s a community, and that’s not stupid.

It’s just how things are done now.

*

Do a little jig,

it’s a relapse dance.

A relapse dance?

A relapse dance.

*

Self-flagellation, cucking,

masturbation,

x rated, castrated.

Good clean family fun.

*

Do little jig,

it’s a relapse dance.

A relapse dance?

A relapse dance.

*

This would be the part where I’d skat

if I had a band and more talent.

Skip bop bitty bop

dippity daba dobby datta yeah.

*

Do a little jig,

it’s a relapse dance.

A relapse dance?

A relapse dance.

*

Killing old pain

with fresh bottles.

Skip bop bitty bop,

Can’t beat em? Kill em.

Skip bop bitty bop,

dippity daba dobby datta yeah.

It’s the relapse dance.

The relapse dance?

The relapse dance.

The Weekly Protest | Just Because You Said Something | James J Jackson on Patreon

I can post whatever I want. So, let me put what has been on my mind out into the ether, so I can get back to my Lebowski state of mind.
— Read on www.patreon.com/posts/46086274

No Clear Way to Describe It

No Clear Way To Describe It

To bare feelings genuine

free of mystery

removes all art and life.

Is this so?

Perhaps,

yet perhaps not,

perhaps mystery is an illusion

produced by illusion itself.

Perhaps,

perhaps these feelings are self provoked.

Unfortunate, there are no clearer words,

no more explanatory ways,

only the mystery of my stories

and each thought is explained,

in the mystery itself.

The answers can come from

any convoluted plan,

any selfish push.

Forgive us this day

our daily bread.

My life is full of progress

and I still have more to do.

I was a terrible buddhist.

And a sinful christian,

a lazy taoist,

and a confused atheist.

This is not my life story,

but it is true.

These things were

and still are true,

though shrouded in the tedium of mystery,

it is still true

it is still there

it is still real.

The Weekly Protest | Cold Turkey – Twitter Versus Cigarettes | James J Jackson on Patreon

In my not-so-humble opinion, it is easier to quit smoking cigarettes than it is to quit Twitter.
— Read on www.patreon.com/posts/46128039

Reminder: You should give me your money

Forgive the clickbait title, but like a good poet finding his way in the world, I have to beg for change.

So once again I’d like to encourage my followers to join me on Patreon for my new prose blog The Weekly Protest, which features a new post every Friday.

It only costs a buck and the funds help me to keep this site running without paywalls. The prose is for profit, but poetry is for the people.

And in all fairness, writing is my livelihood, and writers don’t write for free. Just saying, it’s good karma to donate to your favorite artists especially in this economy. Again, just saying.

So join today, gain access to the prose posts, and support your friendly neighborhood bard and his cigar habit. 😉

Click here to access The Weekly Protest

Just A Joke

Soyboy cuck gay lame loser dumbass!

Don’t be so sensitive,

it’s just a joke.

Rage and racism exhaled through Taki crumbs and dust, ironically the guy thinks all Mexicans should be impounded.

Don’t be so sensitive,

it’s just a joke.

Hatred shat out the mouth of a fat white albatross with a Twitch following, trying to outdo the fatter albatross with an even bigger following, who is trying to outdo the blond albatross who’s dad got her a job on Fox News. All of them calling the libs “the real racists” in perfect harmony, like a K K Choir.

Don’t be so sensitive,

it’s just a joke.

A gamer, famous for some reason, gave discount cheat codes to his followers for free Nazi paraphernalia and klan hoods, while the blonde woman I mentioned earlier reports his tweets for revealing her old nose to the world.

Don’t be so sensitive,

it’s just a joke.

Now for a Tik Tok about PC culture by the virgin with too many zits to be sacrificed to the gods and destined to be dueted by the 40-year-old man who agrees with it.

Don’t be so sensitve,

it’s a just a joke.

An honest question

Where is the methadone clinic for the people who take drugs with their eyes and thumbs? Why does asking for the wifi password feel like finding a vein?

The Weekly Protest | How to Heal For Real | James J Jackson on Patreon

My new weekly blog has officially launched and the first two posts are up for free! Check out what you’ll be missing if you don’t sign up.

Join for $1.00 to help support my poetry and gain access to all my future exclusive weekly posts.

— Read on www.patreon.com/posts/45966668

Saxophone Ringing In My Ear

There is a lonely saxaphone

playing in my head on a loop.

Echoing as the steps on the concrete

and the smoke drowning out the smell of the city fill all of my sinuses.

It plays in my head wherever and ever I go.

It’s not as cool as it sounds.

And the pills dont make it stop.

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