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Jester May 2017
I kick rocks while I wear docs
I stay ahead of Stepford & mediocrity;
I get drunk because of sobering thoughts while Americana judges me.

I go against the grain, not to be edgy but because it feels natural to me.
They say I can't fit in with society and if so-
society can *******.
Thank you John Lydon.
Jester May 2017
Center stage;
Lights burning on me.

Lights burning on me,
Eyes cast on me.

I've no choice now;
I step forward into and draw back the bow.

I am the target,
This is the show.

Begin.

Play like hell,
I'll give it all I know;
Fingers bleed and bow strings snap,
My life is on the balance.
I have no reason to hold back from this.

If my talent is on trial,
Then let it be my defense.

Play like hell,
no holding back.

Violent strikes like lighting,
Booming strikes of thunder,
I become the instrument.

Beyond this coil,
Play like hell.
Jester May 2017
"I stare out of this blasted window to see the city and hear it's wretched heartbeat.

What would you have me do? Not pull the very soul out of the dirt and muck that fills the caps between paving stones?

That is what you do! You add to the muck, to the noise, the sound, the horror in life that people seem so hellbent on creating for themselves!

I toil away and waste away as the sounds wreak havoc in my mind! You ask for silence, yet I have never known the meaning of the word!
I have mimicked the voice of Angels with my violin,
I have caused Satan himself to tremble at my horns;
I am the very bridge between human soul and the almighty!

I cannot rest until this music is out of me,
I cannot sleep until I have purged myself and shown you all what noises I hear!

Even now by the look on your face, you seem timid; like that of a rabbit.

I assure you rabbit, I am the wolf.

I can shake this residence to the ground with the noises in my head.

The beauty and divine, the dirt and grime of humanity.

You seek shelter from the storm? I AM THE STORM!

I have not slept once since the age of youth,
Haunted by these tones and sounds;
They are my gifted curse, for you see I must create in order to find peace;
Which only becomes replaced by another piece!  

Let the coffee go cold, **** your eyes and your placid mind,
Go about and do whatever it is you do!
Pester me no more with your simple understandings!

I am creating things you can only dream of;
To you they are the Absinthe Dream.
To me, they are divinity channeled down from the high heavens and low hells.

I will bring forth the sounds of the soul and force them on you.

So no, I don't care for a walk, nor female company. Let the food rot.
Pester me no longer,
Rejoin the grime and muck from which you came;
For while you create ****,
I bleed fame!"
Jester May 2017
Silver screens  what we remember,
The magic of the show, the faces of the silver screen.

The stars on the street span far and wide,
Their names etched in stone with a star to show how high they went.

Success and Fame walk hand in hand, and some you know by face, others by name.

As the bright silver turned to colors, we were able to almost touch it,
The worlds which made us smile, or cry.

Alas, time goes on and so does it, the names fade into history, save one boulevard.

If we're all dreamers, if all the worlds' a stage, ad if we are all stars of our own shows, then those names on those stars are the masters of the craft.

When the screen blacks, our lives return to normal.
But the celluloid stars are just around the corner,
The golden of age of fame, before gossip and self shame.

In an age I even now romanticize, even the dark history seems to shine.

So while we love our HD and our 3D Real D blockbuster hits,
Let's not forget the names who set the standards.  

So while stars burn out bright, some burn forever if you know where to look.

Before our flashy flicks, we had the black and white generation,
It taught us to love, it taught us to cry, it taught us to shine and stand as we were.

Before the media became pure entertainment;
It was a piece of work, the moving art.

Silver screens may be a relic of the past;
but they still strong.
Jester May 2017
I left a rose on your bedside when you were taken away,
I'll never forget the look in your eyes as we sat in silence;
Sharing stares as the tick of the clock kept ticking away the moments.

The moments I had with you now memories I have of you,
The doctors gave you the news, and as the family choked back tears;
All you did was smile and silently accept that you had had good years.

If I could be as brave as you then maybe I could learn to live as you did.
Unafraid in the face of defining moments.

Now some of us were bitter,
We felt cheated and robbed,
How could such a thing happen to someone so undeserving?

Others felt sad and wounded,
The end was quickly coming and with it you understood.

As we all took turns spending time with you,
It was to me you gave your greatest gift.

The words of the elder and time beyond time;
Now spoken from the dying.

You said;
Nothing is trivial and I love you.

I was the last to see you that day having been the last to show up,
In the night you closed your eyes knowing you'd never wake back up.

To this day it haunts me;
Your face in those final moments,
When most of us see the end we worry and fret, we're scared of the end.
But you,
All you did was accept it and smile.

And for that kind of strength,
I thank you.
Jester May 2017
And so I slipped into the mirror;
finally after years of staring, I saw the ripple.

I crossed over into fantasy, a paradise, my personal wonderland.
I wonder where I'll land.

And down I go into the unknown,
Red string theories, space and time; time and space.
Running on the endless slipstream
And so I open my eyes and overcome the race.

I opened my eyes and to my surprise I stood before the garden;
I opened my eyes and to my surprise I stood before the Queen.
I opened my eyes and to my surprise; I was falling again.

Free fall into my dream,
Dance with me and by my queen;
This is my reality, grab my hand and walk through the mirror with me.
Jester Apr 2017
What would you die for?
The perfect war?
The end result of peace once the blood shed stops?

What would you live for?
Tomorrow, if you knew tomorrow was a long way away?

Living a life walking on glass makes you tread carefully,
The glass ceiling has cracks that begin to form;
Spiderweb tracks caused by the weight of sobering thoughts.

Would you die for the perfect day?
Would you sacrifice for tomorrow if you knew tomorrow was a long way away.

Would you give all you are now so that futures you'll never see would thrive?

What would you die for?
What would you stand for?

Spent a year walking in someone's shoes
Only to have forgotten who you were before the journey even started.

Homeward bound and out again, watching the world pass you by.

The crime rate keeps moving as the nation teeters on the verge of social change.

Where do you stand?

How do you fight?

Would you die if you knew the future would be secured?
Are you selfless in death?
Are you more than yourself, can you muster the courage to move beyond?

What would you die for?

Are you the martyr of today?

What would you stand for?
Where is the line that you draw?

Would you die, if you knew tomorrow would be bright?

Would you die for the perfect war?

Would you live for the way things are now?
This poem is taken from my upcoming 4th book IV
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