The Year of Rebellion

The high sun begins the year of rebellion
Fires from the sky bring ash to the ground

Grey snowfall begets a somber tone
Recalls a lack of color beneath surface
Lesser shades from what is shown

Yet the blaze continues just overhead
Crackling reminders to sow your rage
Igniting the desire to paint it all red

Water ripples in the year of rebellion
Cooling pools within a draught

Movements rapid like hummingbird wing
Whirlpool dragging down the last regret
Cleansed until you again feel the sting

Torrents of change with personal grace
Cast rejection to the lady of the lake
Laugh at her gift, and cry in her face

Winds run hot in the year of rebellion
Steam bellows angry from every pore

Gusts of heat somehow make us smothered
Discomfort, this new reality with the others
A much worse meaning of “hot and bothered”

Yet stagnant air had left something missing
An empty field with no breeze is a false promise
It simply wasn’t our own voice we were hissing

The Earth lies heavy in the year of rebellion
Even sand grains add to crushing weight

Continents shift with passing fellows
Different boulders upon their shoulders
For standing beside different bellows

We were warned of an unfortunate truth
That passing to new world is still cumbersome
Like closing jaw against a broken tooth

Ironic that defiance is an obligation
Another hole to dig, a little bit deeper

Contribute to our change with them, women, and men
We’ve had room for weapons and microphones
Among the rebels, shouldn’t some of us hold a pen?


Anyone reading, thank you for the support! Today marks the one year anniversary of the website, and though I stopped posting as frequently for personal reasons I can see my poetry still steadily improving and being enjoyed by people in my personal life. It really means so much to me. -TJ

Water and Fear


Heat on, cut the meat, plate to spin, cut your feet
Pot’s boiling but I can’t remember to turn it down
Lost somewhere between its whistle and retreat
If I struggle well enough I might not drown

Freezing first might give some solodarity
Or split like ice before I shave the snow
Mad grasps for salt, oil and familiarity
Pray for a better interruption in the flow

The old tap’s stuck open from the rust
Trickling sounds will be the death of me
Moisture sinks and soggies the crust
Crumbles the version you’ll never see

Unforseen memories and troubling noise
Close the kitchen to avoid the weather
Withstand the cold, we have no choice
The sleet and rain can’t last forever

Paralyzed by the passing cloud’s frustrated tears
Tranquilized by its sound on the roof of your mouth
Sometimes I don’t know how you move those fears
The bounce of your mind makes a dope out of mine

Come we’ll search for safer harbor
Pindrop stands upon shaking ground
Such is attempts for light on the water
To find a single ant within a mound

Calmer tides come with sun’s rise
Victory stated in official decree
But sharks fins poke from placid waves
A primal reminder to fear the sea

Change

Change

Change

Change

Change is what comes when the machine fails
Rusted bolts screech louder when they halt
Mending again yet to bare no fruit
Replacement must be the only truth

Change is the needed outcome of a wound
Balm and bandage meant just to cover
Keeping such a thing so tightly bound
Distracts from a scar that never formed

Change is the nature of fluid’s fate
Contained with tanks and glass
Yet running over stone in rapid flow
When its full weight comes to break

Change is the pain of an iron man marathon
Walls make steps heavy and breath thin
Resistance builds until ankles are weak
Yet heavy feet beat louder underneath

A path toward desired outcome
Or just another act in the play
“Hungry for change”
It just sounds better,
Than “starving the same”

Streets are littered with hapless souls
Tossed about with just seed to plant
The choice is removed from which to be
Revolutionaries for a boundless age
Or, another beggar, looking for change

Oh Prophet

Oh prophet,
Deliver us from temptation

Oh prohet,
Show me another path

Oh prophet,
Your words of wisdom often prove true
Unsullied doves soar aloft from your sleeve
Bring me God’s will, what’s a man to do
Show me the way, what I ought believe

A herald of good could do no slight
None might suffer in your holy wake
You saved them from horrendous blight,
So without your ear the people break

Oh prophet,
I bring your tribute from my hovel,
What coin I gathered for my labor.
I beg you now, if I must grovel
How am I to love my neighbor?

Pointed tongues pierce our spirits
For tortured bulls to swing in pain
A cape bore red so they might fear it
Showing our progress may be in vain

Oh prophet,
New man’s forces drift from the south
Barbarians reaching in for brutal kill
They know not value of your holy mouth
These savage men seek metal and thrill

You’ll see us buried if we don’t present all.
Prepare the coffers, we’ll surrender our gold;
Men in the valley have no fighters to call.
Just a small number of the sad and the bold.

Oh prophet, false prophet
Remnant from the memory of kings

Oh prophet, false prophet
Mason of our own grave

Oh prophet, false prophet
Scratched in your tomb lies a warning
Do not hail out answers at our first clue.
The sun will arise again in morning;
But your bones lie still, as all will do.

Yet dawn’s answers will still lie bare
Clarity brightens what we don’t know
That same void brought you to chair,
Covering the sun created your glow.

Oh prophet, false prophet
Caught in your plan and its hassle
Perhaps this truly wasn’t your fault
If one is to stumble upon a castle,
It proves wise to build it a vault.

Like many you chose a path to rise;
Found yourself on a fine hill to die on,
And seeing opportunity to open eyes;
You mistook the perch for a peak of Mt Zion

Oh prophet, false prophet
A shame you’ll never see truth of the plan,
The wisdom you believed that you had.
In the end proved just another man,
A slight bit beautiful; but mostly sad.

Rudis

The last foe falls in endless game
Victory lifts the hopeless struggle
And you find it all feels the same

Step forward and claim your prize
Oak branch twisted to mock blade
Set with feast for prying eyes
A mighty boast of higher grade

You fought for survival
Beneath cruel master’s leash
Now find your revival,
Or die within your niche

The flames were to burn
But just so they were to shape
To see the colors you could earn
What we might make of hopeless ape

Fighter cut from metal and stone
Forged with sand, tempered in dirt
Became a weapon they couldn’t own;
A person they could not hurt

Absolute victory stands before you now
The promise of peace, it was a lie
You will stand but not take your bow
Though it was not here, you will yet die

What we’ve made, a champion of the sand
A warrior stands removed from his plight
Things fall in place just as planned
You’ve gained freedom to choose your fight

You knew your struggle but not your stakes
The symbol of freedom is oaken sword
Wood for it to bend before it breaks
Blade because peace is not your reward

You will pay for victory with your life
Condemned to continue on the sand
In freedom you will yet choose strife
Hilt will once again find your hand

Join the battle for those yet in chain
Find a way to help cast their weight
For they are those that feel your pain.
For they are those that share your fate.

A symbol earned by knowing its name
show your rudis to all who’ll see
Only then could they know your claim
That we all might be set free

Broken Throne

When I decline their offer of cheer
I always wonder if they see the fear

A kindly gesture met with refusal
Chilled bomb within grasp
My very own Mozel Tov cocktail
Terror clawing at sanity’s clasp

Do they see me wrestle the wheel
Take the right turn on the wrong street
Committing a sin against my song
Trying to resist my own beat

Craving the sweet taste of submission
Wash of failure drowning out that fight
Momentary charade of peace in the land
Shield blinding from the reality of blight

When guards are down sleeping shallow
Silent invaders seize their opportunity
Disguising themselves as if they should be
Uniting all of me in peaceful toxic unity

A silent war hid snuggly beneath gaze
Carried on the back for all else to know
Yet we find the truth of our betrayal in our folly
Naming our enemy for a chance to grow

At the end of the road is recovery
Yet the journey stands hollow and alone
A civil war raging for a new king
To hope the close lends no broken throne

Still I wonder what people think
When I tell them I don’t drink

King of the World (a buncha couplets)

Our world seeing now some troubling things
Reminds us to look for hope in our kings

Master of strength; show off your brawn
Move the sun forward to dawn

The light of the moon shines often dim
A hopeful reminder of your whim

But your people lie suffered in the dark
Grasping for the song of meadow lark

Though the record of the sun goes strong
The presence of night grows long

Won’t you use your might to correct the mistake?
Or will you watch as your people break?

Sovereign of mercy, enforce your desire
Clear us a path away from this fire

Friends in the south suffer and choke
Watch it all burn and go up in smoke

More still east inherit fear of the west
Ravaged but still comes yet another test

An iron bird’s wail is a troubling sound
Engines breed tensions wherever they’re found

Will you prove name’s promise to the world below?
Or will we our fears bloom as part of your show?

Ruler of music; play us a song
Make it go down a little less strong

Drinks are swallowed with much more ease
When drowned out is the sound of the least of these

Averted eyes can find new opportunity
Fresh songs are best heard with less scrutiny

That distraction can grant new insight
In sorrow we forget to turn on the light

Is the love of your fruit a blessing in kind?
Or yet another attempt to deafen and blind?

Lord of wisdom inspire your voice
Remind the masses we have a choice

King of the world, where lies your crown?
Is this your will, and must I take it lying down?

My Short Angsty Relationship Poem With A Long Title

This will be the last poem I write about you
Personal closure on what I’ve been through

To think that you’d find, this lost face of mine
Deep within the thing at the tip of my spine

I remember swooning, lost in your touch
Planning things out as if I’d earned such

We’d have a house; on top of a hill
And watch the world stand a little bit still

I think I’ll wake up, after this tune
Realization stalks me from across the room

Dreams can be goals, but they’re often a farce
Reality is usually just a little more harsh

Such a delusion; it felt like me
Why did I choose not to be set free?

I don’t hate you; I admire a lot
You helped to bright the shadow I fought

No reason to stand; but a care about me
A window to look at the man I’d be

You’re much the same, but I know I’m different
‘Cause I don’t even care that you’ll never read it

The best way to guide, a lost man in love
Is simply to burn it

Ghost

Torn from body
Spirit from bone
Parting our worlds
I am left alone

Today I woke ethereal
This just couldn’t be
Separated from material
Nothing left of me

Did I leave you empty soul?
I should have taken more care.
Our hearts should have been full
Before I vanished to air

I’d give a body for this life
I demand you put charge to brain.
Put that flesh under knife,
And make it just just the same

Walking this place I am so near
Wandering halls I have no claim
These portraits once brought me cheer
How is it that they aren’t the same?

Been cut down yet I’ve grown
Tear these walls and build anew
I’ll stick the queen back to throne
And find a way to hold the glue

The weight of flesh pulls me down
Unfamiliar gravity put foot to ground
Somehow I think I might not drown
I hope you’re proud of what I’ve found

After tears dry
I still wonder most
How did you die
But leave me the ghost

Wise

What do you want to be
When you grow up?

I never wanted a certain job
An impressive cover letter
I only wanted to be compassionate
To help people get better

I see suffering everywhere I look
A million hearts break every day
But they keep on moving silently
Like they have nothing to say

It’s the plight of their station
Sometimes the act of their hand
Some cruel divination
Locked in shifting sand

Some will be speak to their trusted
But further be scorned
Leaving their trust to be rusted
And their lives to be torn

I see strength everywhere I look
A million souls hold strong every day
They keep fighting silently
Their living is what they have to say

When I grow up,
I need to be wise
To help people be better