Musings

Must we write what we know? I've heard it so many times. For a time I probably even believed it. Even now, there may be truth to it, but I don't know. The example I use for this is, however cliched, love. Random thought I had driving home tonight. Oh how often we hear of first loves and the inevitable sorrow they bring, which often results in bad poetry. Pardon me while I meekly raise my hand to join that crowd. And then on the other hand, how often we are able to see inspired words by those truly in love. The passions they feel for one another.

This, I admit, is such an odd thought for me, and yet I crave it for reasons I know not. Of course on the basic level, who does not want love? Love of some sorts, details are not specific. Now, the point I actually wanted to get at it was this:

If you know not of love, this all encompassing, enrapturing feeling. How can you express that you have these passions within? To simply write them out, with no target in mind; is this not wasteful and fickle? To Proclaim one wants these things they have never felt for another, hell you don't even know if you'd like half of them, they only sound good in theory.

Is it wrong, then, to write what burns inside of you? Ha, it almost seems like a match.com ad. These are my burning issues! Are they compatible with yours? Single white male! etc etc, I digress, sometimes I try to be funny. And at the same time, because you have no one to share these feelings with specifically, should you not then throw them out to the world to see? Almost a beot: look at what I am and who you are missing out on!

Logically thinking, this just doesn't seem like it would work. Feelings of desire are for specific people, are they not? Not idealized versions you're hoping to stumble on to in life.

I'll end with that, as I already feel I'm rambling. Just a musing, as I said, I wonder what it must feel like to know of love?

Oh and you don't get away that easy, let me drop poetry on you too:

I give my words, my greatest gift
my heart more feeble than I care admit
But if love came knocking
I'd answer overwhelmed
Offer my own by the morning dawn
Only to realize, what good are words
when speaking to a dog.

Ooo angsty isn't it? No..I just felt mean. Better to take it out on an imaginary being =)

-jsn

new day same story

In tribute to Matthew Arnold, with my own concerns.

What reason have I to feel such sorrow?
Unhurt, not oppressed, merely existing. No horror.
Lonely, yes; but really is that such distress?
A lacking world is the problem.
What passion, what good, what suffering do we stop?
None! for I fear that it is ever our plot.
Speak out! I want proclaim, but for what?
No one left to listen
No more cry for revolution
If problems left so unresolved
become falling, fading song
No one left to carry on
Occupied in safe mediocrity a
population rots; most in poverty
Minds no longer trained to express
Experiment, contrive, learn to repress
Where's my revolution, my century changing call!
Standing upon hilltop, bricked like wall
We, or perhaps only I look below
upon a scene scribed an age ago;
I stumble down below, into the darkling plain,
Matthew you were right:
We're still trapped; insane
and ignorant armies still rule the night.

-jsn

Just a flash of passion

Slightly inspired by Christopher Marlowe's "Passionate Shepherd to his Love"
He's one of my favorites.
Oh, you can even read the poem as every third line as a stand alone poem! I thought it was neat, but I'm easily amused.

You trap me!
You grasp me!
-twine me in your lace

Pull me close!
Press me tight!
-to cover me: lips and face

You kiss me!
You bite me!
-where our bodies fall in place

You breathe me!
You feel me!
-with skin to skin; touching trace

Sink in words!
Down in moan!
-in our passionate state of grace

Think me there!
Kissing lips anew!
-so remember when i've been replaced

I trap you!
I grasp you!
-how you'll never forget my taste

ta da!
-jsn

Quick!

I miss the kiss of treachery...

Oh wait, that's not my work. Apologies to Robert Smith. =)

I haven't actually had a stable girlfriend in some time, in fact like two years or longer. Whew, what's that Weezer song? It's time I got back, It's time I got back, and I don't even know how I got off the track? Again I digress. Sometimes I just like to talk.

So back on subject, no girlfriend in some time, so I'm not entirely sure this is about someone. Perhaps it's my faceless beauty whom I've never met. You can use your imagination. Make it your own faceless, wonderful, beauty. Read it quickly, like you only have but a moment before they find you. It has urgency. Almost...breathless. Until the slow, then savor the moment. Be with your dream for just that stanza, then let it be torn away. Again, just me experimenting. Perhaps it's crap, eh?

Quick.

Quick!
No one can see,
We're here; alone.
Just you and me.

Quick!
The moments pass,
Clinging to me
Skirt the crevasse

Quick!
Your lips fire,
Dissolve me within
A dragons ire

Quick!
Your touch entwines,
Draws my head
To your shoulder-line

Slow.
Let's stay here,
Away from all
Let them wonder
Where we've gone

Quick!
They come again,
Smiles now frowns
Time to pretend

With lingering touch
Our fingers brush
Away we slip
To conditional friendship

-jsn

One of of my more whimsical works

A Faerie Parade

They say she came from a time mundane
to this world lost and far away
we believed her the first
not knowing more would come

a human, she said, when we questioned her kind
more important how had she arrived?
intrigued we crowd about
odd. different. what a funny look.

she laughed and she skipped
no time for this she did insist
and away she went so fast!
at a pace we could not follow

for a while the faeries did flit
tickling her nose with a sparkling shine
until even they full of grace fell behind

higher she climbed, far in the sky where
twas said she had tea with the moons
amongst a grand ball of the Seelie courts

a waltz with the stars and a chat with the suns
perhaps now, we saw
how she had but just begun

how long she stayed
we never could say.
but oh, how could we forget her very first day?

she soared across the crystal plains
and stopped for a nap atop the frozen seas
with a dive she fell behind mountain of spine

and some whisper still
that with a flick of her toes
peace was found in the dark below

her bravery untold
in time, we offered a throne
she laughed once more as she had
in times long before

with a curtsy and a smile
she bowed her head--
and offered decline

can you not see she asked?
my skin has aged; my hair gone gray!
You silly little fey
I soon reach the end of my day

Adventures I had once grand
I fear I've but gone bland
now naps and lazy days
are where i find my dreams lay

we learned great sorrow
as she gave her words
soon she would leave us
not to return

oh weep not! she scolded
there is no time for this sadness
soon a new dreamer will find you here
i know, i've seen him, he draws ever near!

change creeps near my great,
my wonderful, my friends
lie with me now, once more she now asked
as i sleep and relive beautiful days gone past.

-jsn

Hmm

I feel like I've been betrayed on every fucking angle possible. It's quite infuriating to know that a story has two sides, and yet for some reason no one cares to hear yours. People, people, people.

In blank verse. I won't speak of this again.

Closing my eyes I turned my back on Avalon
Let its stone gates shut for the last time
Full of beauty it was once so loved by me
But tragedy befell when spiteful hearts reached out
Took in hand the very winds and laid them with doubt
Spread lie and mix with rumor the manic girl I'd no idea
She's become a tumor.
A broken heart she claimed; as if I left her drowning in sand
Exaggerated, actually. Tis all that is. Sorry to disappoint,
But no hidden reasons are to blame.
It didn't work.
Get over it.
I faded to gray.
Funny still, you steered my Guinevere to betray.
I admit, I know not how you lie and manipulate, play victim
and slander.
For me, there's nothing left, my witching hour love walks away
I just assume she preferred the day.
My friend too you stole,
Same person, you know.
O' how I forget, that was ever your goal.
How can one not see this? Your intentional
Destructive response to mere
Accident.
You win my dear! But it brings no happiness does it?
Misery your own doing, brought unto yourself
I was always there to help;
But a game you chose to play
Your voice drowns mine out
No way back, you've done the damage
Again I say, and implore you to listen:
Never was hurt from me intentional and
I admire your villainy most calculated.


Ughgh, I should be doing school work instead this. Shows you where my priorities are eh?
jsn

So..sick

Ugh yeah. I'm sick. Again. It's not even surprising at this point. Basically, I get to be miserable the majority of the time, and everyone wants to know why I look so unfriendly. Tsk, tsk.

No poetry today, but I do write philosophical meanderings too!

How odd, this pairing off of couples we do. We withdraw from our friends; companions we use as support until we convince another to be with us, and us alone. I see this all around me. And yet, still I remain alone. I'm often curious as to why, as if perhaps it is merely a personal problem. And maybe it is.
Of course, I have been with others before and I generally enjoyed their company. It just always seemed to be missing something. Now, if I can feel this way, I accept others could feel the same way about me. But I admit, loneliness grows tiresome and ever more infuriating. Perhaps it is but sniffling, and the fact is many in this world never find a partner that wishes to share life.
If this is the case, how fortunate those who find their mate should feel. But do they do? A portion must surely not care as they will always be with someone they take for granted; that partners are a given, for them especially.
The most interesting part of this all, to me, is how it is perceived as "bad form" to voice the notion of loneliness; that somehow it is your own doing that others dismiss. It leads to this pent up frustration and cancer of emotions. It becomes a struggle to even go to sleep at night, plagued by the memories of self perceived failure.
And then?
It becomes a new struggle to rise from bed the next day. The world feels pointless when we are alone. This alone is not a physical state. No, it is a mental one. So we bury ourselves in work, school, and drugs. Anything that will allow us to cope and hide how we feel from ourselves. We then go out into our society and put on a smiling face that doesn't even care to smile or frown; a face so numb now they exist for existence's sake. So they laugh and joke, for the amusement of those they pretend to. But they are still gray inside.
Return home and the cycle will begin anew. This is not just a random event. It is every day, every moment. It will never leave on its own accord. Is it still any wonder, to you, reader, why anyone would not crave this life? Why some simply wish to no longer be anything? Why more than anything they simply desire nothingness. To die, and be forgotten?
No, I doubt one who does not live this life could ever understand, else it would not be a problem. How very few will ever understand they have no value as a being? Nothing is more confirming of this than the feeling of being unwanted.

jsn