Yar!

Sadly, this post is not pirate related. Just another one I've been working on. A few places are clunky and not...lyrical enough for me. I'm just an elf at heart man. Enjoy!

-jsn

What Else?

The stars still whimper
the stars still whine
weeps that the threads
of our loves would never entwine

I see her still, the purple wreathed
Muse; sweet jasmine crown
upon her dark sewn hair
of brown

For a short time we found
a steep valley, hidden vale; oceans
of great lilies pale that swayed
in the wind, leading to moonlit foray

And it would be no lie to confess
fantasy unfolded in warmth of
a time sewn nest; where all the
world stopped silent in reverence

But winter comes ever creeping,
lilies die, hearts fade, leafless
branches full of weeping;
threads unravel; great distance; lone travel

And so quick the silver valley
fell to shadow; thoughts not thought
feelings not felt - things of failure
sighs of regret

Ages have passed, great kingdoms
fallen. Yggdrasil trembles and
new worlds are dawning. but
something remains in two distant minds

Two stories remember and you only with
mine; you've no choice but to follow
my recollection and wandered meanderings.
an insisting reflection:

It must matter not what tragedy
was wrought -- aftermaths and angry
talks, if you but cherished the
moment before it stopped

Even if regret does follow,
if you but kissed like you meant
it for that moment in time, frenzy
filled touches could never be hollow

So despite what you think
Despite what you say and despite
where you go; however different for
you the story did unfold

For but a moment your whole life
mattered and
Color me confused, but
What else could you possibly be after?

More Plath based fandom

It's okay. Nothing special. I think a few parts need revision. Enjoy.

-jsn

Kiss.


It seems as though our last kiss
- has been our last

I recall so well how the scene did unfold
- a familiar couch if nothing else

Your lips on mine and our arms entwined
- how I still remember the taste of the first time

As I lay in the floor next to your bed, I whispered goodnight
- and I peeked your red crowned face loom down upon me

Oh, how I swiftly surrendered, tilting my head to meet your own
- receiving your lips and offering mine own

There in the dark I felt your blue flames flicker
- and I knew it would follow me till the end of days

I could keep the feeling held utterly close with gripping hands
- Even if you decided it was time to go away

How it seems you've left,
- found another to abuse and mistreat your love

Strange, how our last kiss will always be our last
- and I can't even pretend that I think you know.

Whoa two in one day

I totally posted that other one way late last night, so it totally counts as posted yesterday. I'm on a Sylvia Plath kick. Asked for her unabridged journals for Christmas. Don't ask me if I actually got it or not. Confessional Poetry

Valentines Party

It must have been in second grade,
when Valentines gifts were no longer
mandatory made.
And we all sat in a circle
taking turns handing them out.
Nervous I waited and watched,
card after card went 'round the block.
Stephen got six.
(I remember he told me.)
And Shea got ten.
Preston was four,
and Tiffany seven.
It was Crystal, who actually got eleven!
Then it was done.
(I had already passed out to everyone)
But not a single card came round to me.
And I couldn't quite understand,
Twenty two kids and not one had thought of me.
As a child, I remember it clearly: I went home and cried.
As an adult, it never quite hit me,
just how much I died.

I the ever shivering,
and you my
long sleeved jacket.
yet when it comes
to your love,
I can't help but think
the cold still
wraps about my feet.

Hello hello

What's up? This is me talking to myself. So, no original work of my own today, but I've been really captivated by this (famous) piece by Arthur Rimbaud. That, and I think I have a crush on Ophelia, go figure. I just think it's so melancholic and beautiful. Ethereal, if you will. I hope you like it. It's also so amazing that he wrote his best works at such an incredibly young age (late teens! OMFG) The beauty and genius of some souls must be eternal, despite what lies beyond this world. I think if you like poetry at all, this is someone to greatly admire and you should look at his other works. They are unfortunately (for me anyway) all written in French, a language that I really should learn. I'm just terribad at language acquisition. Of course, they are all just my meager opinions. Have an awesome day. Oh and PS, Dear Asami lurker, I think you will like this one a lot!

-jsn

Ophelia

I

On the calm black water where the stars are sleeping
White Ophelia floats like a great lily;
Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils...
- In the far-off woods you can hear them sound the mort.

For more than a thousand years sad Ophelia
Has passed, a white phantom, down the long black river.
For more than a thousand years her sweet madness
Has murmured its ballad to the evening breeze.

The wind kisses her breasts and unfolds in a wreath
Her great veils rising and falling with the waters;
The shivering willows weep on her shoulder,
The rushes lean over her wide, dreaming brow.

The ruffled water-lilies are sighing around her;
At times she rouses, in a slumbering alder,
Some nest from which escapes a small rustle of wings;
- A mysterious anthem falls from the golden stars.

II

O pale Ophelia! beautiful as snow!
Yes child, you died, carried off by a river!
- It was the winds descending from the great mountains of Norway
That spoke to you in low voices of better freedom.

It was a breath of wind, that, twisting your great hair,
Brought strange rumors to your dreaming mind;
It was your heart listening to the song of Nature
In the groans of the tree and the sighs of the nights;

It was the voice of mad seas, the great roar,
That shattered your child's heart, too human and too soft;
It was a handsome pale knight, a poor madman
Who one April morning sate mute at your knees!

Heaven! Love! Freedom! What a dream, oh poor crazed Girl!
You melted to him as snow does to a fire;
Your great visions strangled your words
- And fearful Infinity terrified your blue eye!

III

- And the poet says that by starlight
You come seeking, in the night, the flowers that you picked
And that he has seen on the water, lying in her long veils
White Ophelia floating, like a great lily.

Just another day

Had a check with the doctor yesterday and he says the MRI is clear. So he's treating me for cluster headaches now. I swear my dresser is like a pharmacy. It's got everything! Anyway, I really wonder if that's what this is, even though I can attest to having all of the symptoms, it just feels like maybe there is something in my ear actually causing the problem. Oh well, he's the doctor! This one was what Wordsworth would call spontaneous poetry. Try and read it fast.

Hysteria?

Someone much wiser than herself posed a question to a room.
Not me. Not me. Please not me.
I'm a failure. I'm hungry. Where's my car?
Someones sufferingsomeones dead
he's cutehe'snot oh and she's pretty
my nose is so bigwhatswrongwithmylips
in dreams i can never move it's like water
i see it! we are but the scale of a giant beast
an idiot god who will on a whim roll over and crush
all existence as it has so many times before. my head
hurtsand my mouth is so dry. i'mcold but its hot. the pounding
i want to go. go where? it doesnt matter. i just want to leave, She thinks.
nothing matters everything is futile i should be a nun. where's god? and
would he acknowledge me?
She sighs.
In a room full of vacant hands she smirks and offers her own.

Whimsical hate!

That's me! I'm curious if other people find it amusing as I do when whimsical work ends on a dark note. I find it highly entertaining if not delightful, but I'm a different kind of person. Very very simple rhymes, but it's a simple story.

A Faring Well Wish

In a lovers quarrel I intervened
not quite knowing what it would bring.
At first the wonder and flash
blinded me like happiness unabashed.
But soon it became apparent
My role ghostly transparent.
Hearts anew; no time. They flew
back to the old. Me? Stuck in the cold.
Well I wish them both the heaviest hearts.
That they stay embracing; keep their sparks
Let's wish them always remain together
Despite the ever changing weather.
And I wish them stand like stone
every time they feel alone.
Oh and while I'm being nice,
I wish their love the thinnest ice.

Fun poem

I had a lot of fun just trying to jam stuff together in this one. I like it. Still no update on MRI, assuming the doctor got the results yesterday, surely he would have called if he found something serious, right? Alas, who knows. I have an appointment with him Thursday if nothing else. I don't actually know what to call this poem, because I originally thought it would be a response to T.S. Eliot's Prufrock but I took on my own rambling in the middle of it, so, very inspired, and since I used a lot of references, I think I have to say it is a response to Eliot's work. I'm still in the imitation phase of writing it seems. I have ideas for other things coming up I think, one about a Muse, and another about Poetry in general. Ok here we go!

A Mad Man's Response to The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.

The scene I change
but the scenery remains.
an Unreal City
of a different name.

An observation you once made
the dead fear no secrets,
how strange that for a living soul
the scariest tale is when truth be told?

I met two girls.
One insisted she was special.
A school for the gifted,
where only special people go,
had gifted her the paper that made it so.

The other a nightingale whom never sang,
twit twit
jug jug
so rudely force'd
from the time she
was two till ten
and at fourteen
made her own end.

I thought her the special one.
How could such a soul ever be undone?

Ophelia!
Ophelia!
No, and I am the wrong Lazarus.
And you, not her.
Another tragedy for which
the world does not stir.

And do I grow more apologetic
with approaching death?
Or proud of my bitterness,
that is I The Fates collect?

The trees stir!
Weeping. Weary. Writhing
like the swirl of grey
Reminding of the false overlay.

In my sleep I dreamt it so!
I felt myself pulled away.
My existence not needed,

no place for me
no place for me
no place
...but I'm still here?

Perhaps this not the end
if we woke to the sound
of mermaids near the beach,
singing for us; within our reach!

Wake now!
The voices,
do not drown!

They sing for you!
They sing for you!

Let us go then,
you and I!

A poem

I think this is the culmination of my greatest work. I don't say that to be arrogant, but I think I've finally put to words what runs through my mind so often and I feel I can never convey. In any case, I like this, and I hope you will find some joy in it too.

Of Mirrors and Fates

I.

By gift unknown I was granted a glance in the mirror of all fate.

So I alone within room of black gazed before it and it did not smile back.

Three images upon me it bestowed,
like questions and wishes I never wished for.

And in the first we traveled ever so deep,
Memoria my shepherd, and I it's sheep.

We arrived at a home of bleak empty rooms
with walls of plain white
no decorations, no light
everything was hidden from the plainest of sight.

Empty I've said, and already I've lied.
In the center sat a boy,
no companion at his side.
No toys.
No trains.
Not a single video game.

But I don't think it mattered,
for not a frown was on his face

I think he knew not of sadness,
and surely not a happy trace,
for he played with such vigor
as he jumped and he tumbled.

He spread his arms and I swear he flew with a rumbling mutter.

I don't know how long we stayed,
most of all I didn't care.
I could have watched this perfect child live forever

And in the end, he even asked me to play.

But Memoria was harsh and the stipulations premade.

The past was the past
and would forever remain.

So away he took me from
the home of the lost child.

II.

Standing before the mirror once again
from behind the haze stepped a man
oh so familiar.

No need for description,
the reflection said it all.

Oh, how the bitterness had burned his eyes.
And upon his cheek was the lip-shaped stain,
A fickle fading star that would soon wash away.

I knew what had happened,
and I wept with embarrassment that made me ashamed
to call myself a man.

He spoke no words
and I none to him
But I knew what he was thinking,
until his bitter end.

I turned to Memoria,
with the same hateful nod.
Here I was done,
I demand to see the end.

III.

At last I was invited,
and I stepped inside
an empty mirror,
with a broken bridge leading to the other side.

Memoria smirked and laughed all at once:
' Well cross,' he so insisted,
'the answers you seek, they're no great mystery.
Or stay if you like,
afraid to know what lies near,
on the other side of this imaginary fear.
So many have stayed,
choosing to rot
rot
rot away.
You'll be of dust,
not even the need for a name.'

And without hesitation,
I sit upon the ground.

I close my mouth.

And never again make a sound.

A post

This is something that's a bit odd for me. I'm going to make an actual blog post. I don't quite know where it is going to go. I admit, I'm going to ramble. But if you are interested in me, Jason, and who I am, I ask that I might persuade you to keep reading. I shall do my absolute best to shed light on any mysteries that might surround me. Still with me? Let us go then, you and I. If you get that reference and are female, I'll marry you right now.

I am a loner. Emotionally, and physically. Whether this is from upbringing, experience in the world, a combination of both, or even some reason I don't know of, it is what I am. I can't say I particularly chose it, or even enjoy it. It simple is. And I admit, it's rough letting people in to my world. I find it one of the most difficult things you could possibly imagine. Even more problematic is keeping people within the fold once they're there. I find that the ones we allow in the closest, are usually the ones we end up being the most angry with in the end, as we know they are aware of some darker side to us. Of course we don't like this. It doesn't sit comfortably with a person to feel vulnerable.

I'm not one to share. I don't mean my toys, fuck, I love sharing my toys with others, it gives a sense of camaraderie and belonging. I mean, I'm not one to share my feelings, whether they be joy, which I'll be honest, I rarely experience, or sadness, or depression, or anger, or even pain. I think growing up I learned no one cared and they were things to keep to yourself. I obviously can't say this is a good thing, because they leave many emotions and feelings not dealt with and bottled up inside. It's true what they say, they will eat you alive.

I think, this particularly post arises from something that has happened within the past two years. I began feeling an intense pain inside my inner ear, that was actually thought to be a tumor in my head. Luckily, it turned out this wasn't the case. However, collateral damage was suffered. Not to my body, but to many people around me who could not understand why I suddenly withdrew and became a recluse to them. I was in such pain most of the time, I simply couldn't bear to be around others. Not only was it the pain, but with it came an irritability that just made me not someone you wanted to be around. I was always angry, and I would lash out without warning. This was something I couldn't do to my friends. I have never been one to take out my feelings towards one thing on another who had nothing to do with it, and yet I started to.

So I cut off all contact. I did this to a girl I had only recently begun seeing. She didn't take this well, and played it off to me as if everything was fine. It's true, I didn't tell her the real reason I did it. I gave the cliche, I just can't do this right now. I thought she accepted this because she was good at hiding how she felt too. This was not the case. In fact, I angered her to a level I had no idea of. She became very malicious towards me behind my back and actually sabotaged quite a few relationships I had, without my knowing until later. As much as I want to have nothing but hatred for her, I can't. She did what she felt she had to do. Can I forgive her? I don't know. I feel at this point in my life, I must. I have no other option. To hold on to the anger will only destroy me. So this is me letting that go. Do I expect forgiveness? Of course not. But now the reason is out there. (not that I think anyone actually reads my blogs.)

Months later, when I was not feeling the pain as badly as before, I did meet someone. I fell for her hard. Too hard. I knew better than to jump in head first, but I did. I couldn't resist. For whatever reason there might be, and there are a million, I failed to hold on to her. I should have held on with everything I had, but no, I just let it go. Thinking it was the right thing, I watched a dream fade for the second time. Again, these are just fancy strings of words. If only I could articulate my real thoughts in a manner that would have meaning. But that too is over.

My pain has returned, ten fold, actually. I endured it for this long alone, telling no one but my doctors. Not a soul knew how badly I suffered every day. It was so bad I could at times only collapse and cry. And I don't say this for sympathy. I don't want pity. I want it to be understood who I am at this moment in time. I'm human, duh, and like all of us, I long for the touch of another. Someone that will in turn enjoy my touch, feel comfort in my presence as I would in their own. This isn't even a whine about not having such a person in my life. This is who I am. Not very interesting, right? I'm just like every one else.

But I wonder, does this confession change anything? Does it matter why I did the things I did, or only the end result? Now, I've even burned my Aikido bridges. It was never something I planned, but suddenly there I was faced with the decision to leap or comply, and I always comply. So I leaped this time.

I can remember how it felt, during those times when it felt like I had someone at my side, and it was grand. But I threw those away too. Again, nothing can change this, and yet, I can't help but dwell upon where I went wrong.

So I'll even apologize. To you, whoever you are that needs the apology from me. I gladly give it, but remember, I'm no one and my apologies mean nothing in the end. Words can change nothing. Had I thought ahead, I would have never caused the hurt. But I didn't. I made mistakes, I failed, and I even succeeded in some places. And yet, those successes are so far and few between. I feel my complexities are so much greater than I, and they will win in the end, whatever that means. Oh, how these words are so fickle to my feelings. I wish I could make it more clear.

jsn