Poetry Monday: The Sound of People’s Voices is Painful

Some people are afraid of silence
They feel the need to talk about nonsense
Or they like the sound of their own voices
I like the quiet – I thrive on silence – 
When these nonsense noise makers
Decide I should hear their story
It takes every ounce of courage
Not to scream for them to shut up and go away – 
They laugh at things which I find no humor
Maybe I’m broken – maybe you had to be there – 
I’d rather be known as a jerk that people avoid
Then have rambling idiots talk to me – 
I hear random conversations
I get headaches from the morons around me
So many use words they can’t define
Or claim to be an expert when they know nothing – 
I wish I could make everyone be quiet
At least when they’re around me
I want quiet

From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.

Flashback Friday Poetry: Death

death is the man
who searches for life
he takes it away
with a flash of light

that young man there
he was stabbed and shanked
the stupid bastard
tried to be a saint
to save a girl’s life
they took the bait
it was his life
he let them take
unfortunately for her
the life wasn’t saved
the stupid bastard
tried to be a saint

my death is uncertain
my time will end soon
after all i have seen
death is my only friend
he’ll always be there
when others have fled
he’ll be my bestest bud
my friend to the end

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

Throwback Thursday Poetry: The Fools and the Insane

the master of time condemns you
your thoughts are no longer your own
you passed the test of your father
but failed the rest and are alone
your chest is swollen and punctured
the pain captivates you once more
your body aches without working
your heart is blackened to the core

no thoughts can deceive your conscience
it’s sharp as a sword in the fire
the object is crafted for war
your mind’s attractive desire
in the eyes of the purest soul
your intentions seem good natured
the stupid old fool will learn soon
he cannot trust his good neighbor

through the lives of the tortured souls
a lesson is learned by the mad
if ever should life turn nasty
make others around you feel sad
ask not what’s wrong with the crazy
ask not what they are doing here
ask yourself maybe they’re normal
and i’m the one who should be feared

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