How Dry My Mouth Has Become

crystals

How Dry My Mouth Has Become

I stand
Ever prideful

Watching shadows
Fill the cracks of the foundation

How I want to invite them into
My cell of insanity

Where I curse pure intentions
And shiver on bathroom title in Portland night

I would show them my ribs
And hands with skin like designer paper

Let them trace every newly etched line
And examine eyes the color of desired dreams

They could turn every story to murdered moths
Have this tomb so I have nothing more

Except the pills and dust
And the cool numbness of knowing

Posted in poems

How beautiful we once were

dark-abstract-landscape-gerald-paul-swift

How beautiful we once were

Her hands coddle
a cold stone

A gaze melts
a frosted heart

With her
I forget
I’m human

Is unsettling stillness
she sees all my sins

Razors exhale
And ribbons dance madly

A cool burning
falls from truth-bound lips

How awkward
We’ve become
As animals

Pulling the needle
From the cracked record

She confesses to me
“We’re all dreamed by dreamers”

In slow moving twilight
We dance
Like time on fire

How beautiful
we once were

In that moment
Never changing

Posted in poems

Download the second edition of my poetry book, A Beautiful Violation for free.

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Hey Everyone. At the start of 2012 I created a very simple book that was a collection of my poetry-short writings. What I am planning on doing is re-releasing it every year with a new chapter filled with new writings for each year.

So, this is the release of A Beautiful Violation, year 2. Don’t mind any of the formatting issues, this is something I threw together myself and I am terrible with desktop publishing stuff. A bit more work will have to go into it if I every want to make it a large scale publication. However, I don’t think that will ever happen. The idea of selling poetry is an odd concept to me and one I hope I will never get used to. I plan on releasing the new edition every year for free to people that enjoy my work.

So here it is. You can download the PDF by clicking this link. Please let me know what you think. My writing tends to be dark but I think a lot of beauty can be found in darkness.

Thanks,
Jesse AKA Joshua Blackwood, my pen name.

https://www.dropbox.com/sh/k38i1o7dp52ztfp/doh_j9vxoH

Posted in poems | Tagged ,

Some words about the recent shootings.

Shootings have always had a great affect one me. I think one of the major reasons is because the Columbine shootings happened on my 18th birthday. Those shootings, like all shootings, were a thievery of innocence for everyone. For me, every time another one of these senseless acts occur it reminds me of having a BBQ at my house in Santa Barbara when I was 18 and having about 40 friends over. Many of them were still in high-school but ditched class to celebrate my birthday with me. I remember feeling blessed to have so many friends and I also remember someone coming into my backyard, telling everyone about the shootings when they first started. What was a a day of celebration under a beautiful April sun quickly turned into a crowded gang of teenagers crowded into my living room to watch the news as this tragic event unfolded.

It has been a hard time for me recently with all the the terror that has taken place. A little over a month ago there was a mall shooting 8 miles away from where I live. Shortly after that there was the horror that occurred in Newtown. Then shortly before Christmas my mother called me late one night to tell me that while Christmas shopping in her local mall a man opened fire in the parking lot, shooting over 50 rounds. My mother was in the food court at the time with my cousin and luckily no one was injured.

It has been a rough month in general but these shootings have made it an especially dark time. I’m sorry for going on a long, emotional rant but I’m a writer and writers and an emotional bunch. 🙂 I’ve written these 2 poems in the last few weeks. Please give them a read and let me know what you think. I hope they don’t offend anyone.

 

Here I am with you, myself again

Clustered drops of tears like drained compassion
This skinny, frail body that knows it’s lost

I watch, wondering how much shadow can pour from a soul
That greedy, unsatisfied darkness that questions beliefs

The white faced man forces unwanted angels
as the schoolyard asks questions that can never be answered

In violated numbness all innocence is infected
And every poetic verse is an insult to thick silence

Doves scatter under paper cloud sunbeams
Following ancestors to bathe in God-intoxicated beauty

 

 

 

 

Karma, what a disgusting debt you’ve collected

Sharp white paper screams unsettling silence
And every beautiful woman’s kiss has fallen to tasteless gray
This chest is now but a void where thunder tumbles down

Under a rust filled sunset, Portland rain makes no sound
And East Coast mothers stare with glass eyes
At religious leaders who can offer only jumbled words

In dream-quaking remorse, memories scream like knifes
And compassion is but a phantom limb, reminding us only of loss
Holes within our screaming hearts, like so many small graves

Posted in poems

How can one begin to heal? – A new poem

Two hours ago I walked to the gym and came across this memorial. When I got to the gym I saw on the news the that sales of bullet proof backpacks has tripled in the last few weeks. I got hit hard with a case of “What the fuck’s the point?” I left the gym, went to a local cafe and wrote this. Fair warning, it’s sad. I’m sorry if it offends anyone.

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How can one begin to heal?

Sharp white paper
Screams unsettling silence

Every beautiful woman’s kiss
Falls to tasteless gray

This chest is now but a void where thunder tumbles down

Under a rust filled sunset
Portland rain makes so sound

And East Coast mothers
Stare with glass eyes

At religious leaders who offer only jumbled words

In dream-quaking remorse
Memories scream like knifes

Compassion becomes a phantom limb
Reminding us only of loss

Karma, what a disgusting debt you’ve collected

Posted in poems

Here I am with you, myself again – A poem

white-clouds

Here I am with you, myself again

Clustered drops of tears like drained compassion
This skinny, frail body that knows it’s lost

I watch, wondering how much shadow can pour from a soul
A greedy, unsatisfied darkness that questions beliefs

A white face man forces unwanted angels
And the schoolyard asks questions that can never be answered

In violated numbness all innocence is infected
And every poetic verse is an insult to thick silence

Birds scatter under paper cloud sunbeams
Following ancestors home to bathe in God-intoxicated beauty

Posted in poems

She reminds me I’m dying- A poem

images (3)

She reminds me I’m dying

Diamond inflamed veins beat through paper skin
While The echoes of war ring a faint hum
And dilated eyes stare at plastered white skies

How it pains me to wake with arm draped innocence
With this body, a husk without reason
How much can one learn and still be lost?

Watching the silhouet sleep in purpose
The retreating thief takes even his whispers
“We are always reminded of what we once were”

Posted in poems