I imagine you young so often
And what our words would be like
If your voice would be hard or soft and
we would joke of two dudes and a dyke
I think of myself as old and
Watching my heart and my hair
Go gray, I feel like Holden
Singing out days in despair
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
symantics
Nostalgia
As a child, on a ranch in
Imperial valley, my grandmother
told me to pick any watermelon
from the back of the pick uptruck.
I climbed the wood siding
and found the right one
imperfect sphere head
and it was mine, mine.
I waved to my grandmother
and pushed the red/green melon
over the side and
watched as it broke like
Humpty but I was the king
and I jumped down
and pulled out the heart where
there are no seeds
and i ate it all
in one bite
like love and lust in one.
i was covered in red
As a child, on a ranch in
Imperial valley, my grandmother
told me to pick any watermelon
from the back of the pick uptruck.
I climbed the wood siding
and found the right one
imperfect sphere head
and it was mine, mine.
I waved to my grandmother
and pushed the red/green melon
over the side and
watched as it broke like
Humpty but I was the king
and I jumped down
and pulled out the heart where
there are no seeds
and i ate it all
in one bite
like love and lust in one.
i was covered in red
Friday, May 11, 2007
I have nothing to say
Interesting
I should be asleep,
but it doesn't work that way,
ive got great big lungs
and nothing to say
I should talk about
Morning sun in May
Ive got thousands of mornings
but nothing to say
I will stand up
and shout and free and climb
and be profound and jump around
in your head but I, but I
I've got nothing to say
I've got nothing to say
to a church-going lesbian
who waits around
and paralyzes himself
and lays on the ground
and pins himself down
restless and still
healthy and ill
with no free will
my God
how will I pay
for the sins of this day
for my the error of my way
when to God I scream and chant and sing
"I've got nothing to say"
3x
I should be asleep,
but it doesn't work that way,
ive got great big lungs
and nothing to say
I should talk about
Morning sun in May
Ive got thousands of mornings
but nothing to say
I will stand up
and shout and free and climb
and be profound and jump around
in your head but I, but I
I've got nothing to say
I've got nothing to say
to a church-going lesbian
who waits around
and paralyzes himself
and lays on the ground
and pins himself down
restless and still
healthy and ill
with no free will
my God
how will I pay
for the sins of this day
for my the error of my way
when to God I scream and chant and sing
"I've got nothing to say"
3x
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Poet Exemplar Description of Me by Anonymous
In less than two years, Jason Jenkins has gone from zero to sixty in regards to campus leadership. He first came on to the leadership scene as a member-at-large with COR during Spring 2006. He quickly assumed the position of Vice President for Fall 2006. He now serves as the Media Council representative on COR. In Media Council, Jason is a member-at-large, which acts as a checks and balances system for the organizations within MC. It is his job to look at the media from an outsides point of view and offer opinions and suggestions. Apart from his work with COR, Jason has co-founded the Music Business Club, which has already hosted three events on campus. For a brand new organization, that is quite a feat!
Inspiring individual who always gives it his best, plus he loves poetry
Inspiring individual who always gives it his best, plus he loves poetry
For My Father's Birthday (part 1)
Fifty five words for fifty five years.
A father a friend holding fifty five mirrors
With many faces and fifty five cheers
A birthday cake with fifty five flairs
Of fifty five dancers in twenty two pairs
And one left sitting around fifty four chairs
That one last candle betraying fifty five dares
Burning alone.
A father a friend holding fifty five mirrors
With many faces and fifty five cheers
A birthday cake with fifty five flairs
Of fifty five dancers in twenty two pairs
And one left sitting around fifty four chairs
That one last candle betraying fifty five dares
Burning alone.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
years and years
Hope
I'm very very afraid
of taping into the inverted river
of emotion that dances in the
clouds above my head.
I'm hurting from the muscles
fighting the currents,
my river flows much faster and
rougher than the rest of the worlds
the kite of hope will get broken
with every thought and every
rapid rushing twist
i don't have a damn thing or way
to control it. My heart won't stop the running
and my head is warming from behind
the blood fills up to worship that
current... that fucking place, that doesn't let me have control.
let me have control. let me have control Lord.
I'm very very afraid
of taping into the inverted river
of emotion that dances in the
clouds above my head.
I'm hurting from the muscles
fighting the currents,
my river flows much faster and
rougher than the rest of the worlds
the kite of hope will get broken
with every thought and every
rapid rushing twist
i don't have a damn thing or way
to control it. My heart won't stop the running
and my head is warming from behind
the blood fills up to worship that
current... that fucking place, that doesn't let me have control.
let me have control. let me have control Lord.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Rapture
Rape
we read that it happens
with friends. mostly friends.
but not you, not me.
why this, grabbing of such
a white bird, with a red glove,
in such an empty cage. Why
this pushing aside, the puuuushing
aside. This gripping, tripping, tucking, shucking
smearing, breathe of a whisper that isn't
shared. it's your. you took it.
you took this, you fucker.
you fucker
you fucker
i am just a man trying to do my best in this world, trying to find
her voice, trying to put her on again. like a record or a suit.
she is calm today, her voice is that.
but she might scream if i don't ask the right questions.
how can i tell her painted story.... can i tell it right?
we read that it happens
with friends. mostly friends.
but not you, not me.
why this, grabbing of such
a white bird, with a red glove,
in such an empty cage. Why
this pushing aside, the puuuushing
aside. This gripping, tripping, tucking, shucking
smearing, breathe of a whisper that isn't
shared. it's your. you took it.
you took this, you fucker.
you fucker
you fucker
i am just a man trying to do my best in this world, trying to find
her voice, trying to put her on again. like a record or a suit.
she is calm today, her voice is that.
but she might scream if i don't ask the right questions.
how can i tell her painted story.... can i tell it right?
Figuring it out
Sex
I have figured out
why I love sex
it has nothing to do with
me. you get into it.
thats why i do it.
you get into it.
i watch you.
and you get into it.
and you love it.
and i love it.
alone.
I have figured out
why I love sex
it has nothing to do with
me. you get into it.
thats why i do it.
you get into it.
i watch you.
and you get into it.
and you love it.
and i love it.
alone.
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