Jeremy Jay Wood

jake sat with his friends
in the same uniform
with the same lunch
laughed at the same
jokes
tv shows
kids

maddy stood outside with her friends
different clothes
puffed a clove cigarette
didn’t laugh at the same
jokes
tv shows
kids

jake walked home with his buddies
maddy kicked rocks alone
jake came home to love
maddy’s mom is never home
jake went out to a movie
maddy sulked in her room

jake walked to school
with maddy
they held hands
and kissed
and talked
about their love

maddy walked to the bleachers
jake walked to class
maddy bummed a smoke
jake did the work
maddy cursed overachievers
jake yelled at the goth kids

button down shirts
scuffed black boots
perfect slacks
holes in old jeans
perfect hair
black eyes

they walked home
holding hands
smiling
kissing
together
still alone

j-

sat alone on the first day
was the only one
everyone watched
fingers tingled
head heavy and pounding

sat alone on the first day
wasnt the only one
watched everyone
hands sweaty
head heavy in thought

sat alone for many days
with new friends
that did not know
or understand
or care

sat alone for many days
with old friends
that knew
and understood
and cared

sat alone for many years
with no one
with pen and paper
eyeglasses
pouring it into the blank

sat alone for many years
with myself
with my drawings
visions
keeping them close to me.

j-

I don’t really know what it means… usually I just sit here and try to let the words come through. Sometimes I tell a story and it’s just random- sometimes I tell a story and the words repeat in some oddly read pattern. I’m not sure if I’m any good at this poetry stuff. People tell me I am, but in my experience something as subjective as poetry can always be considered “good.” Like modern art. A dot on a large white canvas is “genius.” All I see is a lazy artist that can’t finish his artistic obligation.

i read the list
all of it makes sense
and in an instant
i dont remember
the words

my heavy heart
cringes
my eyes blur in
solitude
it is all true

failure is normal
just another symptom
of my gifted mind
wired wrong from
day one

i read the list again
hoping it has changed
convincing myself
this is not why
im a genius and a mess

author artist poet
friend lover confidant
son brother nephew
all fall short
somewhere

not enough to be complete
sufficent in quantity
lacking in depth
hiding my voice
and inexperience

jj-

so much was in him
for many years
he was strong
and faithful
to them all

over time he faded
his joints creaked
and ached
but he was brought back
by the ones he loved

in thunderous roar
and cold snowy eve
through hurt
and sadness
he was there

the old man
comforted them
sheltered their
tired bodies
against the world

even when they
were apart
there he was
waiting patiently
for all of them to return

away they go
soon to build
new lives
and dreams
and loves

forever he stands
in their hearts
and memories
for the next
to come to him

his arms open
ready to love them
and keep them safe
from the cold and sadness
the roar and the hurt

j-

fist pounds against metal
she staggers into it
it opens and she is there
shaky feet as she yells
the half empty bottle
spilling out
onto the front step

she confesses her sins
and stands there
waiting
hoping for embrace
and release
of a forgettable
night of sweat

that aroma
seeping from her
throat as she slurs
and kisses and
cusses
and touches
her invitation is
all too hard to ignore

her body is warm
and her heart is cold
yet still my arms find her
i kiss her forehead
the night so dark i dont
see her face as
i leave

i hope and wish
for more
that her breath will
not sting my eyes
that she will not
curse me for spending
the night in her bed

but the music is
deafening
heart on fire
her closeness
with conditions
her love
was casual

j-

he sat in the dark
wiping back the tears
spinning the gold on
his dry finger
wondering why it had
to be this way

she had always
been there
since they were children
holding hands
laughing at the world
praying for the best

their skin thinned
in their age
children grew old
but they had their
souls to appease
the fading memories

young and pigtailed
slender and spry
they took on the world
with youth and love
kind and patient
wonderful and decent

building their world
as they needed
wanting only
for each other
they were love
the purest form

he poured his heart
into her dying breath
holding her cold
frail aged hand
aching for more time
feeling her pain

his head against
her shoulder
afraid
to look into her eyes
as the sparkle he loved
sank into the dark

so he sat in the dark
shaking his head
feeling for his love
rolling the pristine
gold on his finger
asking for more time

j. jay-