To transcend labels, this was my original life’s goal. To walk the path of life thinking about nothin but the soul. ____ But obsession with the soul, with meaning and existence, is a waste of breath and privilege, and all of it a heart blockage to resistance. ______ Then one day after much trial andContinue reading “To Be Called a Red”
Mudlung hacking on the street corner, chugging 40 ounces, half past curfew, He couldn’t pay the rent, He couldn’t pay his debt, Now the city bridge is the roof of his tent. Now the city bridge is the roof of his tent. __ Onlyfans allowed in the room, 50 cents extra for a peak. SheContinue reading “Debt and Rent”
Peace is the spirit of the messenger, with birds over yonder. Perched is a dove, a crow, and a pigeon. Perched as the employees of deliverance and omens, and so shall they be our messengers of peace. Peace that which comes from the messengers, and all the work they’ve done.
First draft, catch the idea, put it on the page. But its not all there yet? Doesn’t matter, you have a quota. Just get it on the page, and get it out there. Fuck editing, fuck censoring, it’s all out, all on the line. Tomorrow is a big day, in a bad way, maybe weContinue reading “First Draft”
Vengence, unguarded, has all but been abandoned. Anger, the burning coals the buddha talked about, drop them. See their sparks as they grind into the Earth, then darken into nothing. No time like the present, no fear but the accented. This is where I should always be, yet it means nothing when you stay stagnent.Continue reading “Why A Poem Never Belongs to The Author”
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The hipster hellscape. The trendy dystopian trope and all those goddamn post apocalyptic motifs. Cliche at this point, the world ended years ago. Yet the trends keep being shat down our throats but blue check mark movie producers and hack comedians with shitty podcasts that should have come out 10 years ago, when the materialContinue reading “Hollywood Hellscape”
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As it is, As it was by James J Jackson, Jr Praise new hours, a ticking clock to the foreign loss and familiar social pressure on a 21st century turn. Broken and fixed, broken and fixed, upon the repeated more beats and thoughts and proof of provocation of those of the past idiocratic splendor. Fortune’sContinue reading “As It Is”
Hello my pen, My long lost friend. I put you in your cup months ago, or was it years? You’re all I have now. These hands have toiled. This heart was broken. These eyes have cried. But still, my pen has ink. The hand that toiled Now wants that toil on the page, The heartContinue reading “Hello My Pen, A Poem About Writers Block”
Only a coward attacks with no face. Only a fool takes the time to make an enemy. Only a coward and a fool would ever throw a tantrum about helping someone else. Cowards and fools running amok, literally leaving plaque and death in their wake. We must do something, something now to deal with theseContinue reading “Only A Coward, A poem”
There is no going back, Our heroes are dead. We are our own heroes now. There is no going back. – There is no going back, The tides are swallowing us, A virus is choking us, Our “leaders” are killing us. There is no going back. – There is no going back, You can’t getContinue reading “There is No Going Back, a poem in the time of Covid”
Why I am going to write as much poetry as I will about politics.