Category Archives: Poems

Cowardly Lion (a poem by Jack)

What’s a lion… Stripped of its mane?What’s a lion.. Stripped of its roar?

What’s a lion.. Stripped of its pride?

I’ve seen lost men… Wondering souls.. Prideless reservoirs of built up frustrations.. Repressed human instincts.. Dulled.. Extinguished..

Where is all the strength?

It didn’t disappear.. Vanquished? 

Simply appropriated.. 

The mother of the universe cries out in pity.. Woe is thy man.. And all that thee have become..

Pity to the design I created.. And the abhorrence it has become.. Some say an evolution.. But I see a corrupt mutation..

Woe to man and what it has become.. Displaced instincts.. Displaced spirits.. Living in a distilled environment..

Woe to the disciples that can still see what lies in plain sight.. Do not allow the chastisement to sully the righteous spirit..

Eventually the lion will war again.. Eventually the lion will roar again..

As acentric as one’s sentience would lead the consciousness to believe the universe to be.. It isn’t so..Perception isn’t always the complete truth.. Only a fraction of such..

The lion will Roar again…

static (a poem by Jack)

Because you know you’re great, people will often require a physical manifestation of such to justify it so, that’s of no necessity and isn’t your obligation to provide..

My DNA knows slavery.. But it knew God for much longer..

It’s only natural… Elasticity.. I gravitate back to my natural state….

Shock.. Traumatized Phenomena… Circumventrical exploration of soul… Rat racing back to it’s most poignant tragedy..

My brothers, yes, knew slavery but it’s the least of all they know..

My gods knew rape… But remain the gatekeepers of humanity.. The purveyors of all mankind.. So the fruit of her labor is just.. And the torment her soul feels is justified.. 

Can you continue to test her Will?

We know hope because our future is our past…

So in the mean time.. It’s the stress of the present that clouds our judgement… Fried our clairvoyance and foresight of anything worthwhile..

Rat racing to the present is a fantastical tragedy..

But we endure.. And find a way to to see love through the static of corrupted sight…

Love is all we know… And it’s our only tangible manifestation of our Great..

Solarity (a poem by Jack Nitty)

If the sun dies.. Does not the earth along with it..

Don’t stay proud of who you are.. It’s quite circumstantial.. Who you are can dissipate from this life to the next..

The solar eclipse of reality caste when the moon dictates what should be…

The moon is the hidden truth that remains hidden behind the Sun’s ego..
What you are will always remain.. 

And what I am is of the most high..
The stuff where magic procreates…

But the reflection of who I am dances in the moon light.. The Sun often betrays the truth, until another shows you exactly who you are…

When the mirror is held to your face… And the reflection you see burns the flesh.. Do you run from the pain.. Or seek a glimpse of who you really are… In spite of the pain…

Do you really want to know who you when the tide sets.. Are you comfortable enough with what you are to not let who you are corrupt what you have and will become?

When the Sun dies.. Do not the other planets along with it?

Plastic Doll.. (A poem by Jack E Frost)

What is sleep without a dream.. The same as life is without a dream…

Plastic child… Chase your plastic dreams…

Your image is nothing.. I don’t believe in it..I know you hold it near and more than dear to your heart.. But it has no loyalty to you.. None…

Don’t you sleep every night and feel forsaken? Did you not know what that aloneness was?
You build it up your image, and even put your soul into it.. Identifying with the facade.. But, fuck the truth huh?

Because the truth is, I see you..

And you don’t want that.. You don’t want anyone to see you.. You want to hide behind all your fears and ambitions.. A lil babe wearing a Knights armor..

But, fuck the truth

Your truth is dying.. Excuse me, I said your truth is dying and your spirit along with it..

What good is a soul if it vibrates out of frequency?

Is a body without use of a soul any more worthwhile than plastic?

They would lead you to believe… And the fact they do and aren’t questioned is the true tragedy…

blinded bright.. (A poem by Jack E. Blaze)

Some Suns shine brighter than others..The sun traverses the universe.. And like any vortex, it brings those within it’s reach along with it..

So which star shines bright for you.. The brightest blaze garners the most attention…Whom do you put your faith.. Where are they taking you? Or maybe it’s you and you’re the center of your universe…

Suns never burn forever.. Eventually they become moons adhering to a power that’s plenty greater..

I prayed to the sun.. There was a time.. I bathed in the Rays of the sun until I perceived a false truth…

I realized it was my energy she basked in all along.. And what is a man to do with such a profound truth.. What do you do when the wonders of your soul’s radiance is blinding–quite overwhelming..to any and all perceivers…

Do you diminish the bright? Do you allow others to direct your vortex.. And what can a sun do with all these planets in its orbit…

I’ve seen a sun bleed tears…

I’ve seen a sun scorch earth..

I’ve seen a sun lose its way… Focusing on the surrounding planets and where they’re going when really you’re leading the way..

Shine and they will follow…

Sea shells subside… (A poem by Jack)

It’s not supposed to be this hard they said..and they ain’t neva lied…

Oh fragmented child.. Fighting from dusk til dawn…

But I see you beyond the crust.. Always have.. Forever will..

Full fledged adult carrying a broken child..

No! 

Broken child… Relying on a full fledged adult to be barrier between you and your other you..

The you that’s trapped in time.. The you that makes sense.. The you I hope to befriend..the you who eluded the confinement of time and remains the precious of your consciousness…

So flower child.. Sprout like the daisy.. Take refuge in my heart.. Warm the soil of my soul and let my love water your roots.. 

In a perfect world..oh in a perfect that would be.. It could all be so easy…

But this is no such thing, yet.. It has not manifested, yet.. So that child carries the shield.. And that child puts up wall after wall after wall.. That child has built an impenetrable fortress.. And remains shielded.. Guarded..

In the process.. I’m to be gelded.. The only proof I come in peace.. As the enuchus of yonder I pose no threat..

My soil… I worry about soil at times.. How long is to remain rich and nutritious…

How long…

Please… Tell me… How long?

How long is my soul to go without seed? How long will flower child remain in her package..

I look forward to the blossom…

Her blossom is my destiny..

agape… (A poem by Jack)

It’s a bit erroneous and fallacious to say..But you see me as a man of yesterday year.. I keep telling you… I am not that man.. He is not me.. Our likeness not the same.. Our origins unique..

But no matter what.. You keep drawing on our similarities..

I am not, He…

The love you kept reserved for him, you restrain from me…

But.. I am not, He..

The recalcitrance you bestow upon me… Was never meant for me at all.. But disappointment bleeding through from  time before…

A time precious… A time that never goes away.. No you don’t reside in the past but some past do their best to keep pace with the future..

But.. I am not, He…

You weep tears that were never meant for me… Curse the very breath I breathe.. I stand in disbelief because by your conviction you swear they were meant for me..

But.. I am not, He…

Now the suffering I endure.. The vitriol I deflect.. All because the love I chose…and the man I choose to be..

But I am not him…

Maybe he crafted how you see me… And all the other Me’s you’ve ever saw who just happened to be his mini-Me’s in your eyes..

But… I am not, he..

All I seek is to get my face back…

When will you see me and me alone….

When will you see that I am not him?

Rested eye… (A poem by Jack)

Prone..

I lay supine.. As the voices chattered among themselves..

And Taunting me in the same notion..

A single tear struggled to find it’s way out of the crevice of my left eye..

“You’re a kingless man.. You’ll never get what you want…”

Was it the truth… Was it a truth.. Was it my truth.. At that moment it didn’t so much matter..
You see, because they are quite keen.. They know exactly when I’m convinceable..

Vulnerability is every man’s downfall…

And that’s what this is about.. Me and my convincing nature… So a man thinketh and so is he..

And at that very moment.. The tear trapped in my eye could tell you exactly who I was…

Who I am..

And who I was meant to be.. 

All converging at a crossroads…

While I lay supine… Lost in a gaze… 

mud is bond (a poem by Jack)

I am not bonded by word but by choice…
Don’t need symbols because my flesh communicates everything on my behalf..

Child of the stars… My genetics run deep… We never worshipped the sun but saw it since it’s infancy and encouraged it’s growth with jubilation…

We mourned the moon, but now nature grieves for us…

Mud born we reigned….

Jacob fooled Essau… But that was supposedly just a warning.. Only an allegory… But I see my siblings giving away birthrights as though they have no idea what a birthright is…

It’s death or liberty.. But death is liberty… So why trade freedom for comfort.. Why trade freedom for convenience.. What is freedom in reality, when reality is nothing more than Jacob’s lie…

Fucc Jacob and his words… Do not be bounded by them.. But know each choice reverberates for infinity… Bound by choice we are…
Your flesh was never coincidence…
The mud runs deeper than the blood could ever….

I am Child (a poem by Jack)

Like the little boy… Who yearns for mommy…

He is me…

Mood..

This is the current inundation that has flooded my lungs and has suffocated my spirit..

I miss something.. But I don’t know what…

I feel alone.. But don’t know quite why..

I want to cry.. But the tears refuse to flow..

It’s like life.. Has sewn my tear ducts shut..

A jaded mule I’ve become..

Some nights ago I heard the spirit of lovers past.. They were screams of anguish.. Begging heavens gate to send a new me.. I saw the irony and truly sympathized but felt no pity…

I guess I’m in a frozen place… A state of mind trapped somewhere between freedom and remorse… I’m somewhere between moving on and I’m already passed that..I’m running in place in a hurry to get nowhere..

I’m somewhere.. In some Galaxy.. In the fetal position with mommy rubbing my back..

I’m somewhere being replenished by the fathomless tears that this life would not let me shed..

I am child…