Call on me

Call on me with your fury,

Call

on

me

With your day

Make no sounds, there’s no hurry

Just let it fade away

 

You need no introduction

You just need peace of mind

So call on me when you are fine

Call on me with your corruption

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Changeup

Hello followers and new readers,

 

I’ve decided to changeup how I post my poetry online by including imagery to set the tone. I’ll be reposting a few of my well-liked poems as well as a few of my personal favorites. I apologize for no new work recently, but school is currently slaying my creative world. Thank you.

 

J.D.M. Sr.

Would I had been

Would I had been, the man I wanted to be

Then I could say, simply, call me a friend

But life is filled with sin, life disallows the happy

 

It should have filled the soul, this drive to find and see

The way of others, the ease in which they blend

But they can’t see the man I wanted to be

 

I could try to change my heart, fill it with forms of glee

Pretend and play, immerse and trend

But that isn’t me, never feeling that free

 

If it’s for the good, I would be a tree

To stand and stay, to never bend

But my roots stay close, there’s no buzzing of any bees

 

I’m made of no wood, I have nowhere to flee

All through the day, I fear to transcend-

Fear they’ll arrive, to turn my key

 

So I raise up my hood, I make my agrees

I act as do they, fake and expend

Would I had been, the man I wanted to be

Maybe, then, I’d fit with society

 

 

A Question

I have a question, though from my breath it falls

It dances across the tongue, seeking simple thoughts

My voice it holds, then it blows, creating little squalls

 

The thought fills and flows, ’til mind no longer recalls

It lasts long within the lung, words beginning to clot

Air finally let’s go, just before the darkest walls

 

In my throes, the question returns, and stalls

It won’t be sung, refuses to be caught

I bow down low, taking a knee at the pitfalls

 

Speaking slow, I spread my hands and crawl

Feeling strung, I know not what I sought

The fated blow, refusal grabs my soul and hauls

 

Pain to my toes, wretchedness calls

To the crowd I’m flung, all this time for naught

The stairs glow, taking me to other halls

I will grow, throw myself off more waterfalls

The Gnomic Father Pt. 4

Go and grab your toys, you know the ones, you

don’t play with them anymore

Get your robots, your legos, and all

It’s time to show you where they fall

 

Place them in a box, arrange them as you will

Take your smiles and laughs and place them in as well

Grab your memories, stretch them long and let them swell

We’re going to take them where they can matter still

 

Filch the tape and bind it tight, we wouldn’t want

the gifts to break

They’ll find others and procreate

You need to stand strong, when they haunt

 

Now set it down, let the donation soak

You’ll find life is better to better folk