~holiday~

let us take holiday on the moon 

whilst the sun serenades eyes heavy 

floating to a magician’s tune 

won’t you build me a swing 

slowly sing to me 

that song you like to sing 

for then we shall fly 

collecting constellations 

barefoot in a night sky 

whisper sweetly like you do 

as the stars giggle 

when my cheeks change hue 

let us take holiday on the moon 

with no thoughts 

of ever returning soon 

Poe Places: An East Coast Journey in the Footsteps of Edgar Allan Poe: Petersburg

After marrying his cousin, Virginia Clemm, then age 13, in the spring of 1836 in Richmond, Virginia the two departed for their honeymoon coming to Petersburg, Virginia. They stayed on the second floor of the Hiram Haines Coffee House, owned by poet and writer Hiram Haines and his wife Mary Ann, who was a childhood friend of Poe’s.

It’s unsure whether they stayed as little as a few days or two weeks. The coffee house is no longer open and at the time I visited a sign was on the door with a real estate agency seemingly the building being for lease.

These Stones: a poem

i let myself fade to you
knowing the anchor is not through

it presses upon my hollow chest
no will to fight or protest

it dares me not to cry
as I push back the ache with an empty sigh

my head swirls, words circling, once again falling prey
as the rapture returns with its needful intent to slay

haunted by my own thoughts and the words you slur
from frustration and stubborn pride we both continually stir

resentment and desire to throw it all away, gives us constant whiplash this thing we promised
never to betray

what lies beneath us, the darkness that makes you and I
has always been our savior, never to stray away from or lie

yet we are challenged it seems every day
to embrace what we have, instead slipping further and further away.

i know not what rests in your head
if you’ve willed it away or wished it dead

as for me I cannot explain this bond refusing to break
perhaps fate found me you to cure this ache

or maybe a stepping stone for my soul to mend
from the torture I’ve caused it, unsure how to bend

or perhaps I to you to show you the way
beyond the path you thought you’d stay

or maybe the tool to purge a mind
from all that baggage trailing behind.

so when i let myself numb the world and think of you
the first thought I have is were your words true

from all that we’ve shared
it was always obvious to me just how much we cared

but it’s hard for me to accept that we have failed
after chartering waters neither of us have sailed.

how can we just let it all go after having the courage to let the most darkest pieces of ourselves
show?

emotions can be such a powerful drug
that can force us to push feelings under a rug

or cause us to act in disarray
react or say things we don’t mean to say.

insecurities own us, blind us to what’s really there
prisoners to our minds, stripping us bare.

i know this thing I feel is something all together new.
it’s that thing inside that keeps pulling me to you.

there it is the world, coming back into view
i push my thoughts away again, as I repeatedly do.

bewitching happenstance: a poem

She knew all along
it was there
dormant yet waiting
to kiss the wanton air
to dance out of the darkness
to own the light
to taste every demon
and soar in its delight

one day twas happenstance
he came along
singing to her soul
a bewitching song
that linked to every emotion
she’d hid life long

each fiber within came awake
silently beckoning for him to embrace
what she knew she always wanted
but too scared to face

grief

i know not the lengths of this journey as time, unbeknownst to me, shall likely coil it’s precious and vile moments within the ruptures of my brokenness.

hear the tumultuous cries but leave me to dance in my seemingly motionless state

watch me glare into nothing yet as if the narration of my life is before me

grant me this nirvana where I shall run to the shadows for solace to bleed, to smile, to weep to laugh, to burn, to soar…

image of “Grief” taken from Rock Creek Cemetery in Washington DC. Sculpture created by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and listed on National Register of Historic Places. To read more about its elusive history read on…

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adams_Memorial_(Saint-Gaudens)

my black sun: a poem

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my black sun

how I swoon

as your shadows embrace me

becoming this phantom veil

obscuring the world to this beast

that hides within

and your touch,

your touch

like a tornado meeting a hurricane

the two caught in a trance

both unsure

of relinquishing power to the other

to begin the decent

into the sweet oblivion

where the twisted world we imagine

comes to life between each breath

that is only our utopia

J

 

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a walk with you…a poem

2016-04-10 21.27.52

she still thinks of a time when
beneath a crimson moon
upon a path laced with secrets
spilled a desire
a likeness she found in your eyes
to a fire
a flame that scorched
the blackest of dreams
sedating the demons
for a moment’s walk with you

~J~

 

adrift

 

 

 

Screenshot_2016-03-24-22-08-04-1

adrift

I never knew what it was
to be without fear
until there was him
how he led me
to the shadows
of my salvation
and i, easy prey
desperate for freedom
freedom to let these dark wings biting at my skin soar
and he, he sensed it, smelled it
and embraced every ounce
coaxing it, willing it, molding it

into this dark angel I became
life-long barriers quickly diminished in this realm we created
debauchery was not a word
it was a way of life
and in it, I thrived
I became an entity of me
in the trenches of my mind
the dirty, dark confines of one’s soul
where the sane distract themselves
from fear of getting ripped to shreds
that is where I lived.
i bathed in it
and he,
he was my water.

how i let him ravish my veins
turning me into his masterpiece
standing on the edge of his every word
waiting, wanting, needing
and when he came I drank him as he would taste the spoils of his creation
my sweet poison he was that I forcefully injected without haste
my daily dose of life that without, my breath would surely fail

and so we danced our dance a thousand nights from moonlight to a tipping dawn
how I knew even then with each new day brought with it this emptiness, this brokenness
this void that drowns me now
for he is gone
this false God I bowed to
this magician of sorcery
this beast that fed me in slow seductive doses
and now I am here in once our darkness
unable to stray
broken, addicted and derailed
waiting for my wings to come back to me

~J~

03/24/2016