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  Jan 2016 AJ
South-by-Southwest
A poem's a poem and nothing else
As they stand they will never be a tree

Even by God's decree

A poem's nothing more than the mangled thoughts
Spilling out of our heads
It's not the future that I see

Nor was it meant to be

Though I do admit
at times they tend to make me cry
And sometimes on the inside
they want to make me die

And again they give me hope
Even make me want to dance
And I come close to love and God
And they give me sense of balance

The world could do
without the poems
that funnel through our pens
But what a sorry lot we would be
without the freedom that it brings

So let the words flow like water
over Niagara Falls
Give our hearts the magic words
that make our spirits sing
Let us gain the unattained
Poems , and poetry is the name
AJ Jan 2016
Today isn't my birthday;
But it is yours.

I used to love this day.
Just touching the start of the year,
Another day to celebrate.
Planning for months in advance.
Making sure every detail is in place,
Every "i" dotted and "t" crossed.

But now,
Now it's just another day.
It used to be one of my favorites.
And now I have to pretend it's another day.
But it's not.
It's your birthday.

I guess now I realize I was
Trying to make today memorable,
So that you wouldn't forget me.
But that didn't work.
I wish it had.

Happy birthday.
I'm so sorry.
Not my favorite day anymore. Someday hopefully today will be important to me for another reason and I'll forget about how much it hurts right now
AJ Jan 2016
You want it to be.

Where you're there, living your life
And I'm stuck here; broken.
You made those choices
To cut me out.
And now, this is the way it is.

You used to say:
"I'll never leave."
"I promise this is forever."
"You're perfect to me."

But you lied.

Or maybe,
That's just the way it was
When you said those things.
Because I know
That things change.
Life gets in the way.

But this is the way you want it to be.

I trusted those things you said.
I believed every word.
I know that I am not perfect.
But you gave me hope that maybe i just didn't see the best parts
of myself.

All I could see: the way you looked at me.
All I could hear: the sound of your voice when you said
"I'll love you forever."
All I could feel was your hand holding mine at night.
All I could taste: your lips on mine.
All I wanted: you to never leave me.

But this is the way
It has to be now.
With you there, living your life
And me sallow and broken, in mine.
Not having the best night, reliving old wounds and broken promises. Tomorrow will always be better; at least that's what I tell myself
AJ Jan 2016
Go to work.
Make money.
Spend all your time.

You have to do something you love.
What if there's no "salvation" waiting above.
Make the most of this time here
Take the day off with your friends and a beer.
It's this one life we've got.
Take this day as your one shot,
To be better, to live happier, to be you.
Tell me, friend,
What will you do
To make this day live for you?
Don't waste away your life rushing toward some glorious afterlife. What if this is all we get?
AJ Jan 2016
The dark and the light.
It's not quite morning
And not quite night.

The sun still hides,
The moon, it's time it bides.
The day, yet to break
My bed, soon I'll have to make.

But in this moment there is silence.
There is nothing to do, yet.
Just lay, and listen to the silence.
The best moments hide in between
The end of the night and the start of the day.

Here,
In this moment I can be happy.
I can allow myself a respite
From problems and worries.

They say the dash in between your birth
And death
Is the most important.
And it is.
That's where the living is done.
That's where the memories are made.
Where love and loss
Happiness and sadness
All come together to make a life.
In between
Something a little different I think. Plus I have the day off today so I was feeling a little more creative than usual
AJ Jan 2016
No sun shine today.
Grey and dull
And cold.

A light snow,
A single bird,
This place is frozen in time.
Winter has finally hit us.

So long, we've hidden in warm weather,
Now free of those constraints.
The cold brings us out of hiding.
To roam the world again.
Winter things we are.

Morning brings us forth to you.
I had this weird idea of some kind of winter monsters that can only come forth in very low temps. Where I live we've had unseasonably warm weather; this morning the temp is 5 degrees.
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