Mental Dancin

Cold winter never wake up, 

Warm summer until we break up, 

We wont worry about the clean up, 

Don't think that i can keep up, 

Dance with me i can keep up. 

Cracking my head just to get a clue, 

Snapping my neck to get a clear view, 

No voice left but i can hear you, 

Definitely look better from the rear view, 

Spinning my mind through the same night, 

Twist the design until it aint right, 

We might have had a connection, 

But i never have your attention. 

Skipped steps fast, 

Sped through A to Z, 

Most thoughts came last, 

Gaps in the intimacy, 

The past is ash, 

Forge a future with me, 

What have i got to prove, 

Versus what you believe, 

At ease, 

In this entrancing grove, 

Best believe i want to dance with you.

A little diggin

I dug deep in the cold to recover my mind,
Amidst the ceaseless snow of my personal fjord,
Each stroke an arrogant celebration of the self,
All because i hid my heart int he dirt,
Inclined to converse with the worms,
Mounds become peaks in this dreamscape,
Something to look up at as i work with gravity,
From my shoulders i watch as i scratch and scrape,
With time to ponder every flake,
Tools Swiss red and preserved in ice,
Winds that shape and carve,
The violent hum nostalgic,
In this hole i am alone,
But this hole i've made my home.

Warm Winter

Any other timeless day,
A Natural encounter,
Cold problems and seasons,
Unnaturally calculated,
In the arms of anything but despair,
Looking down at the flora on my chest,
Unphased by the risen blues and grays,
A shared aesthetic of an instinctive architect,
Given time to admire the primal geometry,
Body glazed over by a repeated chill,
Frozen and weighted in warmth,
Question suppressing the shivers,
Circled by the cuticle vine,
Flattered and nourished by the paradox,
Dry ice structures which melt on cue,
Against your smoldering maw. 

Submerger

Moments mirror the tides,
Sea sick riding the waves,
Skipped a pond into the ocean,
Bounced from rock bottom a smaller stone,
Cracked glass mixed environments,
Bottled messages turned trap,
Flowed from currents that called,
Perforating worth with words,
Breached the surface of the self,
Found disdain for the reflected,
Evaded with no choice in direction,
Back to the old love of sand and mud,
Real cold solace swallowed whole,
By imaginary scavengers,
There was always color down here,
In the blue that blends to black,
The red which rise to white,
An integral smothering,
And the refreshing suffocation of the night.

Seedling (Short)

We were just seedlings oblivious too all,
The dirt is for growth or comfort when we fall,
You stem,
I stretch,
Extend and then heighten,
To the ones up above whose lives are enlightened,
I peeked the sun through you,
I stay stunted,
She has proceeded the weeds i just confronted,
I practiced patience
And contemplation,
Through these foundations,
You've fueled my creation,
But they've grown too much,
I'm holding them back,
I wither,
And whats left of my petals turn black.

Imagination to explain the exaggeration of my ironic self imposed desperation.

I'm a premeditated toy soldier,
When we play we play; but its serious,
This guns is as fake as your tears,
My war is as real as my pleasure,
These battles all fought for years,
My mixture of lethal and leisure,
Armed to the teeth with apathy,
Striving for a comfortable anarchy,
Amidst the reds of blood and love,
I press my wounds to spur me.

I'm a three eyed Sheppard,
I tell myself they were lost to the wolves,
Out the back of my head i saw them hop the fence,
They ask me how i saw them die,
And how my wool can be so dense,
My declaration as the singularity,
Amidst these beings who look so much like me,
Is masqueraded as passion and energy,
But holds nothing but confident irony,
Yet some still flock to me and form my feigned harmony.

I'm a third gen thrift shop cyborg,
I knew disappointment was a fuel when i converted,
Ditched the manual before i put the work in,
I took reality and put it in computers,
Swapping hands became a comfortable maneuver,
Hardened my skin and watched out for insipid shooters,
Iron eyes weighted and scraping by my sides,
I've seen in black, white, hindsight and even megabytes,
Even with all these upgrades combined,
This tech when applied only dampened my mind.

I'm the creature so rare it doesn't exist,
You people paid and have come for nothing,
Yet you hobble together on mass to see,
Something completely oblivious to me,
Curious of something that isn't there,
I'll take on the colors and adopt the flare,
Put in the care to make it a reality,
For a hope of invading your sanity,
Be at the mercy of my expressions,
As i struggle to leave an impression.

Was working on another passion project! Xpect content soon

Slight Hiatus on the poems, i was infrequently writing while i was working on my own custom Pathfinder adventure path, as well as this i got a new 7-5 job which is super draining, sometimes im too tired to feel anything (but im gunna talk to my boss about a slight hour reduction). With whatever free time i had after work i worked on this Dungeons and dragons piece.

It racked up a total of 30,000 words and 60 pages worth of material, quite a lengthy piece of work. Super irrelevant to my usual writing but it became a passion project since i knew my best friends would experience it with me. (if you'd like me to post it here give me a message and become the first person to message me on this platform... if you can even do that..).

That's all gone to shit now, something i treasure gone for the tie being.
Replaced that with classic wow and hey presto you have a recipe for time wasted!
But its fuel for the fire and i'm currently working on some new pieces for those of you who are still reading!

My b,

Jay