Writer – Author
Mystic Merry Men Marching
taking the cares away
of all who stand watching
making this a better day
crowds grow rapidly
as they walk the streets
they must continue their journey
they will never sleep
bringing cheer and joy to all
because a lack of happiness
is every man’s downfall
these Mystic Merry Men Marching
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
“time for bed”
my mother said
“you have school in the morning”
she tucked me in
kissed me then
crept away silently
i laid there for a bit
and then the feeling hit
something was watching me
i sat up rather quick
turned the light on which lit
my room and i saw nothing
with a sense of relief
i try to go to sleep
but alas i still feel eerie
over to the closet i sneak
and i hear the door creak
then dive back in bed like a swimmer
oh it’s just the cat
“get out of here Matt”
it’s calm in my room once again
the closet door flies
and something skulks in
in fear i throw the covers over my head
i hear something breathing
i feel my heart racing
i hope i’m just dreaming again
the blankets get yanked off
in the air i am tossed
i land on the floor and crawl under the bed
something grazed my coat
my heart is in my throat
there’s something walking towards me
it’s feet have claws
which probably slice logs
it’s skin is slimy and black
i’m screaming in fear
but nobody hears
and the creature tries to grab me
another comes from the side
and another from behind
they drag me back to the closet from which they came
it’s dark in this place
can’t see my hand on my face
and several monsters are above me
their mouths are wet and slimy
“MOMMY!” i am crying
and like hungry lions they begin to feast
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
Loss, Love, Life
He wanted
Her
To see
The love he had
But
Her love
Was not
The same –
She loved him
Yes, but
Not
The same –
No one ever
Loves you
The same
As you do
Them –
But they love
And that’s
Something –
Or maybe it’s
Nothing –
Maybe love
Is the only thing
Any of us
Truly own –
He doesn’t want
To own
Love
Anymore –
But it
Never goes
Away –
Love is there –
Wanted or not –
We all must
Learn to
Live with love
And without it –
Whether you
Love yourself
Or don’t
You must live
Survival Doesn’t Help You Grow
When you hit rock bottom
You can only go up
When you’ve hit your
Lowest low
The first step feels too high
You don’t know how you are
Until someone tells you
You don’t notice the anger inside
Until it drives everyone away
You don’t notice what you avoid
How do you unlearn everything
That helped you survive
How do you learn to live
When all you know is survival
Survival is no longer enough
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.
James Pack 