This month for our Free eBook Fridays, we feature Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry. This is a compilation of all the poetry I wrote from 2002 to 2016. There are over 250 poems in this collection. That’s a lot! Most poetry collections only feature about 50 or 60 poems. Why is this one so large? This was everything I wrote when I first began my writing journey. Most of this poetry is nothing like the poetry I write today. However, I am still fond of many of the poems in this collection and I want to share it with you.
Think of this more like a coffee table book. Read a poem or two then put it down until another time. It could be something for guests to read or to keep in an office waiting room. This free download is intended to build awareness about my work and encourage people unfamiliar with my work to give it a try. I ask for nothing more than a brief review. This could be as simple as “I liked this book” or even “I did not enjoy this book.” The more reviews the book gets, the more people see it in searches. Sadly, that’s how the world works. I hope you enjoy it.
The complete collection of poetry by James Pack. The poetry in this collection was written between 2002-2016. Gripping poems of a struggling youth and fantastical fictional narrative poetry for all ages. Pariah Bound comprises all the emotions and dreams of a young man still discovering his place in this world. With over 250 poems, there is something for everyone in this complete collection.
I had intended not to write poetry after this work. That is why my poetry now is different and I think I’ve finally found my voice.
my Desires keep me strong they give me the urge to continue on without them i would surely be lost lost in a world where pain never stops it is with these deep dark Thoughts that i make my life have meaning trying to balance my emotions with reasoning i now cross the fire the fire of my burning Desires it is a horrible place to see such wonderful Fantasies why are all my Dreams hidden by such a hideous place perhaps so They cannot escape running, running through the land of the misshapen man no reason to go on at all not when my Dreams can’t run afar
I used my coat to hide My head from the cold I heard the sound of the interstate As if a window was open I opened my artificial cocoon And a shadowed face Stared back at mine He mumbled words And I shook my father In the driver’s seat As he stirred, the shadow man Took a pack of cigarettes He mumbled more and tried To take a bottle of pills My father grabbed the bottle And yelled, “No you can’t get high It’s just aspirin” The shadow man still reaching Over me backed away I shut and locked the door My father and I We collected ourselves The man came back My father stepped out With a large, heavy flashlight The shadow man asked for a light One of the cigarettes he just stole My father obliged, and the man left I was 15 it was February By interstate 40 in Albuquerque There was a police station down the road My father thought this bum came from detox We got back on the interstate to Flagstaff We never forgot to lock the doors When sleeping on the roadside