Tag: poet

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Throwback Thursday Poetry: Nature’s Secrets

when the Wind can move and the Trees are free
when the Rocks will dance and the Grass can fly
nothing can stop all the Joys of the Sea

Nature’s Children can jump and play with glee
everyone loves to dream with hopes so high
when the Wind can move and the Trees are free

even in places where no one can see
even if the Land of the Earth is dry
nothing can stop all the Joys of the Sea

nothing is more satisfying to me
than that wonderful time that passes by
when the Wind can move and the Trees are free

all of the Insects are chasing the Trees
but this doesn’t cause the Bushes to cry
nothing can stop all the Joys of the Sea

if the Crafty Animals leave them be
Nature’s Secrets and Dreams will never die
when the Wind can move and the Trees are free
nothing can stop all the Joys of the Sea

Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.

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Tuesday Poetry: Where’s the Tylenol?

The sink is filled with dishes
You haven’t used
There’s very little food in the fridge
And it’s too hot to cook
The sink and the tub are covered
With things you don’t use
The bedroom is littered with clothes
And junk that you don’t own
The only time you have alone
Is when you’re on the toilet
You have to leave the house
To get away from the noise
Crashing at a friend’s house
Means sleeping on a couch
Like you have for two months
No time to relax, no time for fun
But it won’t last forever

From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.

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Poetry Monday: Social Animals

I think I understand why people go to bars
I mean those people who go every day for hours
I never saw the appeal or desire to be
Drunk sitting with other drunks with no ambition
Maybe that was my reasoning. It didn’t feel productive
But to them I think it feels like socializing
I sit in coffee shops, usually reading or writing
But it also feels like I’m socializing
I can talk to someone if I want to or not
I’m still around people. I feel like a part of the world
Sometimes that’s enough to not feel lonely
And people go to bars, so they feel like a part of the world

From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.