No Poems Today… Just Ramblings.

I wanted to write a poem.  Get out some of these feelings that I know are building up inside of me.  That is what happens when I don’t write for a long time.  And, I should know, because I routinely go through long periods of time, where I let this happen.  I don’t write… I don’t process or deal with things.  And, here I am again.

I looked at some drafts of poems that I had started, and thought they might be a good place to start…  but, it’s been too long.  They no longer make sense to me.  So,  I decided I would write a brand new poem.  But, I just stared at the screen.  It’s been too long, and I don’t know where to start.  So much has been happening in my life.  Problems with my own health, yet again. But, those things don’t seem all that major anymore considering all that is happening around me to those I care about and love. Yet, nothing that I seem to be able to put into a poem.  Nothing that wants to see the light of day,  or that I can use to make something beautiful, or to just try to make any sense.  Not yet.

Which, really, is quite fitting now that I think about it.  Because not much is making sense.  How do you make sense of your 20 year old nephew’s death from an accidental drug over-dose?  You don’t.  How do you help those you love, your brother and your sister-in-law/best friend,  get over the loss of their youngest child, and their only son?  You don’t.  Some things you just can’t get over.  I know this.  So, I’ve been trying my best just to help them cope…  but, I am not even sure how to do that.

I have always been a good empathizer.  Is that a word?  My spell-checker says “no”, but,

Always Never

You said you stayed because you cared
about vows, and how to leave would be a sin.
Still, you were always never there

when all you craved lived in your prayers
for him, our lives, to be born again.
You said you stayed because you cared.

Saving Jezebel

He called himself, “The Preacher”
and he offered her salvation. He

spoke of sins she never knew of,
and granted her forgiveness. He
sang songs of peace and love,
told stories of streets of gold,
presented promises
of protection, comfort,  and
eternal bliss.  Then, he sent her
straight to hell.

So, she found herself
a new pimp.

~ smj

(this was a spin off of my last poem, “As If“…. )

What I Can Do For You, by Sheryl Crow

“You’re never gonna make it
All by yourself
You’re gonna need a friend
You’re gonna need my help
I have so much to offer
If you just be nice
If you do what I say
And don’t make me say it twice

What I can do for you
There’s no one else
On God’s green earth can do
What I can do for you
There’s no one else
On God’s green earth can do”

As If

They offered Them
salvation.
Spoke of sins
They never knew of.
Told stories
of forgiveness.
Sang songs
of peace and love.
Presented promises
of happiness,
comfort,
eternal life.
Then, They sent Them
strait to Hell.

As if that was
Their call.

~ smj

I burn, by The Toadies

The Rebels

Sometimes, when the moon is so full
of  itself, that it seems to light up the night
and commands all that it shines upon
to offer up praises in howling song,

she seeks out the lone wolf, joining him
in his den where he offers shelter, and strength
to resist the charlatan’s charms.  Together
they refuse to bay trite songs.  Waiting

instead for dawn’s truth to rise.  Smiling
knowingly at each other.  Reveling
in their shared rebellion.

~ smj

Beyond the Invisible, by Enigma