The Waves are Rocking Me | Short Poem No. 117

The waves are rocking me
Photo by Tim Marshall from Unsplash

The waves are rocking me inside their crib.

I’m melancholy. Hazy. Unfocused.

I don’t know me – What I do – What I did.

. . .Don’t even recollect when I penned this.

My conscience says, “Pull yourself together.”

“This isn’t the plan for a man to be.”

“No, he should stand tall and face the weather.”

“Raise the sails, stand helm, and conquer the sea.”

But I’m indifferent and apathetic.

I’m stale and calm – Dull and unmoving.

But I’m okay with being pathetic.

I dissolved my resolve in self-soothing.

Where currents flow, they take me where I go.

And when I’m gone, no one will even know.


Chapter 2020. Honestly Self-Aware.

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2020, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Lying. . . Stuck in my Grave | Short Poem No. 109

lying. . . stuck in my grace
Photo by Jakub Sofranko on Unsplash

So. . . Here I am. . . Lying. . . Stuck in my grave.
But who I fell with appears to have left.
I guess strong ambitions can’t always save.
They leave you forsaken, reeking of death.

Ironic, it’s the eve of Halloween
And it’s the hour I realize I’m dead.
A pumpkin spice latte, so unforeseen,
would be the last supper before my bed.

I have dark humor to jeer at myself.
But. . . it stings. . . to be abandoned by love.
It’s one thing to lose your health. . . or your wealth.
But you left me. . . no reason. . . no motive. . .

But I remember, once what I have read.
That Jesus can bring back to life the dead.

I Heard You Scream and Yell

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

The Stage of My Life | Sonnet Remix No. 21

This is the stage of my life – here and now.
But you are the star of my performance.
I have to engage but I don’t know how.
Yet your blood in my veins feels enormous.

Your breathe gives new life to my dead spirit.
It pulls me up to face this hurricane.
My vision’s changed; I no longer fear it –
The thought of being consumed by the pain.

When the storms come, I feel a holy wrath.
A determination to stand for You.
I’ll flatten anything blocking my path.
I’m ready to take on what will ensue.

But sweat runs heavy, adrenaline fades.
And I’m pulled down by relentless burdens.
I just don’t want to do this anymore
if I was honest and just told the truth.

It’s not easy to walk this road I choose.
But when I’ve already won, I won’t lose.

© Joey Blue and, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Ran Out of Words | Short Poem No. 83

I ran out of all words that I could say;
apologies to all of my readers.
The mind goes through long nights before it’s day,
and foundations shook for all believers.

© Joey Blue and, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Reckless Love | Poetry Remix No. 20

People say you have a reckless love.
But I don’t believe that’s true.
I think you thought about it, for a good, long time.
In fact, I’m told you cried thinking about it that night. . .
You cried for me. . .

I guess that’d mean your love was not an impulse.
You’re not like me. . .
I’m always changing, swaying like the ocean.
Your heart is prudent.
You’re like an artist, putting careful thought into every detail.
And when you complete your work, you carefully carry it,
protecting from accidental damage.

I heard you’re wild, audacious,
but I don’t believe you’re any of these things.
You were careful and cautious when
my soul was on the line.
No, your love wasn’t reckless.
It was the most tender, caring love
that saves my reckless heart.

A Cold Rainy Day | Poetry Remix No. 19

Life is Beautiful, cold rainy day
Photo by Dean Rose on Unsplash

It’s a cold, rainy day in the streets.
Grey smokey clouds fill the sky.
I warm myself with a cup of hot, black coffee.
That’s the motivation that warms me.

My feet drag as I walk down the street:
Left, right, avoiding today’s puddles.
Dodging has become my life.
But you can’t dodge everything.

I sit and I watch others go by,
peeking between the bars I’m behind.
Like trapped animals, we all live in cages,
either afraid or enraged, wishing of escape.

I look outside, and the clouds are grey,
like smokey tears, or an old man’s eyes.
And I think, “What is life?”
It’s to know that the sun still shines on the other side.†††

Time to Run Away

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2020, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.