meaning

Temperance

The streets are clean 

But only by the street sweeper

Our hearts are open 

But only for the surgeon 

Our minds are sponges 

But only for social media 

Our passions are set for justice 

But only for the social warriors 

9 rules of temperament 

Goodness 

Kindness 

Gentleness 

Patience 

Self -control 

Faithfulness

Peace 

Love 

Joy

 

10 perfect laws tempered with mercy 

Is all we need 

To create a world really worth living in. 

 

I wish you could see it with me instead of against me.

We are the same but our eyes see differenly.

I love you.

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WORDS

 

Words can make you happy

Or they can make you sad

Words can make you feel good

Or make you, feel real bad

 

Words can help you heal

Or they can make you hurt

Words can give you praise

Or they can throw some dirt

 

Words can raise you up

Or they can put you down

Words can make you smile

Or they can make you frown

 

Words can make you smart

Or they can make you dumb

Words can make you leave

Or they can make you come

 

Words can make you laugh

Or they can make you cry

Words can tell the truth

Or they can tell a lie

 

Words can bring you sorrow

Or they can bring you joy

Words can be real blunt

Or they can just be coy

 

Words so much

 Our lives affect

That we should use them

 With respect

BOEMS by JA 97         

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tags:

Man's Purpose

Stepping on split skulls and bones

Of bygone daughters and sons

We head into the abyss

Embraced by hell’s dear shadows

Reality’s mundane kiss

Welcomes us in the burrows

of Death, her friend oblivion

awaiting on the doorstep,

Laughs at Man’s every next step

Nearing the grave, the none.

 

foreplayed

The bow of my body lay suspended by your charms

hung in mid air with the lightest of touch

Fire glazen eyes burn through naked flesh 

Shudders tentatively meet the tips of your lips

Rib cage to Belly,

belly to hips,

to thigh

Breaths lay untaken

Tension rides the sinews 

Pleasure languishing in every  stroke 

Your heated approach has left me starving,

Unlocked, ready, awashed with drippings

Flooding senses overridden

I thought no meant no?

First Book. (me and my Fox wrote that)

The light coming trough the window

showed all the dust that exploded from

the opening of that one book…

 

 

This cold light

lighting up

the warm dusty room.

Books and books and nothing but books.

Mice’s houses.

Rat’s castles.

Home of the fattest woodworms.

 

I cough with every step,

cause every step

is a step creating

clouds of dust.

Dust created from books.

Sandstorm.

Duststorm.

Bookstorm.

 

As I walk thought the kingdom of dead knowledge

towards the end of the world,

I’m looking for one book.

Even if in pieces.

Even a tiny part of it.

i need it.

 

A page, or a line.

A word would do.

 

My room is my desert,

my prison and my kingdom.

So I build my paper castles

and I burn my books to feel warm.

I drink the sunlight

and I look for the word, hopelessly,

like it would save my soul,

like it would grant my wishes.

……..

I don’t know how old is that wine.

I found it behind these books over there.

It tastes like shit,

but that’s allright.

I’m eating the leather covers some book have,

else i’m dying.

I lick my own sweat,

the rats are no more.

All their houses and castles and bedrooms are ruined.

You see, i’m still looking for that piece from that book.

Even the moths are gone.

Not that tasty,

but that’s alright.

Oh well, here we go again…

 

I’m a starving man,

a godless messiah,

soon I’ll feed myself

pieces of my flesh,

tiny organs no one needs.

It hurts a little now,

but that doesn’t matter.

I can devour anything,

I just need to keep my fingers,

so I can run them over my book,

when I find it,

I will find it,

gently caress the pages,

one by one, run my hands

over the hard covers, the soft insides.

 

When I find my book

it will all be worth it.

 

New rat in town.

The rat is no more.

Gave me strenght for one last search.

It seems i looked everywhere:

in all the secret rooms,

under the stairs,

behind the bookcase,

under that little door behind the sofa…or what’s left of it anyway.

The book is nowhere to be seen

so now i’m on the floor.

Breathing is almost impossible

cause of the dust i breathed through these months.

Seems like my last scar has opened up…

The ceiling is beautiful…

Andels fighting demons.

Demons loving angels.

And God is reading a book…

WHERE DID YOU HIDE IT?!

I KNOW IT’S HERE SOMEWHERE!

DAMN IT ALL…

 

There’s dust dripping from me.

Dust and words.

And light.

I’ll ask you in a bit… Father!

 

 

 

So what I’m a character?

So what my steps are counted?

I had the right to try and change that!

See you in the next book, God!

 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Please comment and tell me what you think. I would be happy to hear from you.

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What do I do Now?

Lord help me through this time,

Lord help me through this time,

I don’t know what do,

I don’t know what to ask,

I don’t know who to talk to,

I don’t know even know you.

 

Wisdom is the weapon but the line is thin,

On one side I’m in agony,

On the other in pain.

 

I am past the anger,

I am past the fear,

Show me the truth that I seek,

Though not of my will.

 

I am stuck in the loop,

With no light to be seen,

But as long as I’m in it,

 

I will find. the end…

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Author of

I AM THE AUTHOR OF STUPID POEMS THAT HAVE NO REAL MEANING

I AM THE STEPPER OF STAIRS THAT CLIMB TO THE HEAVENS

TO FIND THAT HEAVEN IS NOT THERE

I AM NOT THE VICTIM BUT THE ONE WHO SEES ALL

WHO KNOWS HIS OWN DEMISE

I AM THE MAN WHO HAS WATCHED HIS LOVES GO TO OTHERS

HAS STARED AT TROPHIES WITH JEALOUS EYES

THE WAY THEY SHINED AND WERE HELD ABOVE ME

THE CHAMPIONS THAT HELD THEM GLEAMING

LIKE THE IRON SPADES SEWN ON LEATHER JACKETS

THAT THE PERSIANS WORE TO WAR

INHERENTLY SMALLER THAN ANYONE

INHERENTLY MORE TORTURED

IM THE ONE WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT NOTHING

I AM THE ONE WHO KNOWS MY OWN FATE

WANTS TO STOP IT

I KNOW IT'S HARD TO UNDERSTAND

I KNOW THAT MISSING SOMEONE IS DIFFICULT

BUT THE WORLD WILL ALWAYS SPIN AS LONG AS THERE IS THE BEAUTY WITHIN YOUR HEART INHABITING IT

I AM JUST THE AUTHOR OF STUPID POEMS WITH NO REAL MEANING

MISSING ME IS LIKE MISSING AN OLD JUNKY CAR

DONT BE TOO SENTINMENTAL

YOU CAN FIND COMFORT IN MY VERSES

DONT LOOK AT OLD PHOTOGRAPHS

LOOK AT THE SUN AND KNOW IT SHINES FOR YOU

I'LL BE BEHIND THE MOON SHINING FOR YOU TOO

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Honestly just wrote this now. it's about friends that see the good in you (even if it's completely manufacture) and sort of weirdly biographical. idk im bad at this but if you enjoy this than hey awesome let me know!

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Transcendestiny

into the dark treed forest

cease the dream
come with me
Enter the darkened night 
wander lusting searches sight
to weigh the days
till dusk wakes dawn.
The Ancient ones await
amongst the jade treetops
bright jeweled stars 
chrysanthemum fractal  
scenes beam with 
 shimmer dance of night sky 
fire glow in distant clearing
the time is near.
 drumbeats meaning
the time is here 
a ceremony undertaken
the grand vision
smoke stained eyes 
the mind awakens

infinite waves of bliss 
lick from the living breathing sea
the shore 
eroding the deep chasm of time
a stained glass mandala 
caught like a dream
like a
prism of dew wet web 
lacing together 
the continuum of time to space
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Peace

Solitude is peace.

 

You don’t have to listen to others.

 

When you’re alone,

 

You can shut out humanity’s corruption.

 

 

 

Nightfall holds no meaning.

 

If you’re at peace, let be.

 

Sunlight holds no meaning.

 

If you’re at peace, let be.

 

 

 

How peaceful it is to be alone.

 

To be alone is to meditate.

 

To meditate is to see truth.

 

To see truth is to be at peace.

 

 

 

You don’t have to listen to others.

 

A family isn’t needed for peace.

 

The light that lives inside,

 

You’ll see it even better when alone.

 

 

 

Reside alone with only the light.

 

With the light by your side,

 

You will feel no loneliness,

 

Only solitude, only peace.

 

 

 

If you seek the light,

 

You won’t find it in people.

 

If you seek the dark,

 

Finding the light will be easy.

 

 

 

If you find the light,

 

You won’t need people.

 

You’ll have the light,

 

And you’ll know peace.

 

 

 

Should you forget about people?

 

No, even though you don’t need them,

 

Remember this,

 

They might need you.

 

 

 

Live for peace.

 

Live knowing death.

 

All life dies, yet lives on.

 

Death comes and peace remains.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I hope people can make some sense of what I was saying. Sometimes I just spill my emotions onto a page and end up not sure if it's even logical.

 

I felt like writing this because in the past few years I've dwelled on the darkness I see in myself and other people - the corruption. I see so much of it that I tend to lose sight of what's good. For a while I dwelled on the darkness and felt content with hatred. I hated the human race. I wanted to watch it die because in my mind everyone, including myself, deserved it. But now I've found peace in solitude and prayer/meditation. Even though I still easily see bad things in myself and other people I've become a little more numb to them. I'm more able to highlight the good things in people. I've done this by turning not to people themselves, but to something higher, much higher. I crave solitude and time alone so that I can reflect on this, and so that I'm not so sickened by the world around me.