jonpoets sooo....i have been contacted by my relocation counselor for my move back to the ATL...it has begun. sigh - November 08, 2011 add/view comments (0)

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I am Jon Poets.
To me poetry is not the interpretation of life, poetry is life.

Who are you? What brings you to my spot on the planet? If you are here to borrow some poetry for your page that is fine, just make sure you let everyone know where you got it. But if you are here to perpetrate then you should just keep moving. I am not looking for anything serious, already have that. Don't need any drama in my life, I already watch TNT. I don't have anything in particular to say to other guys, truth is I have very few male friends in the real world and it won't be any different on here. You want to chat and do some cyper hanging, that's cool. I don't really try to meet people off-line anymore, but if you and I happen to be in the same place at the same time then holla at a brother. Please refrain from any religious type post, it is very narcisstic to think that everyone believes as you do. And to clarify, when I say God I am NOT referring to Jesus.

Actually, I might reply, but odds are that I won't. And if you can not figure out how to up-load a picture of yourself I doubt very much that we will have anything to talk about. To some this may sound harsh...so what, I don't know you anyway. And if honesty hurts you then you don't need to know me.I believe it is only fair that I know what you look like since you can see me clearly. And yes, I look just like my pictures. If you can not say the same then you are perpetrating a fraud. Peace.

"The kingdom of God is within you." ~ Jesus Christ

Constantines Bible

Hail to Constantine for emperor knows best,
Why else would he edit the Christian text?
Maybe it was to satisfy that pagan bet...
Claiming power above the dove,
Defining the roots of religious love,
Thus God and state became one and the same,
That is how he kept those pagans tame,
And there in lays the church great shame.

Though I am thankful for the Edict of Milan,
It did bring religious freedom to the land,
And stopped the Christian persecution by Roman hand.
But it also gave rise to the Universal Council,
Exalting that church of wayward disciples,
Who ignored the truth of Jesus conviction,
That his body the temple that would bear crucifixion,
Building a church above the tomb of resurrection.

And we continue to perpetrate the emperors crime,
Cascading the affects down through time,
With his religious roots the ties that bind.
Twisting the psyche in an unholy way,
That we see evidenced in the world today,
Reports of jihad rampant in the nightly news
From blood soaked lands of Christian, Muslim, and Jews
Where our sons and daughters pay the ultimate dues.

In God we trust is the going rule,
But the irony of it all is so very cruel,
There is no God in this man made duel.
Just some power hungry politicians,
With blind eye to rates of attrition,
Much more concerned with their elected title,
Pledging with stout hand on Constantines bible,
As they carelessly commit the most heinous libel.

Personally, I could give a crap what you believe,
Whether in Darwinian evolution or Adam and Eve,
Your perceptions do not define me.
Because I feel no need to atone,
For spiritual beliefs that are my own,
I just tire of all the church rhetoric,
Spewed by dogma laden religious fanatics,
Clad in their pagan robes of cotton and silk.

So let Constantine have his little bible,
If you wish become a willing disciple,
I will even recognized your church given title,
Just spare me the contents of that book,
And I will remove the contempt from my look,
As to my judges out there who say,
That for my blasphemy I must pray,
A quick thumbs up because I am okay.

Now as I leave you with a smile and a nod,
This one last thing may sound a bit odd
Oh yes, I do has a belief in God,
And I believe Jesus was his son,
But he was not the only one,
Jesus himself said we could do as him,
We just need faith in forgiving our sin,
And the belief of the power of God within.

~fini~

"Good judgment comes from experience, and often experience comes from bad judgment." ~ Rita Mae Brown

Angel Wings

When angels fall from on high
And no one hears the flap of their wings
Can it be said that they fell at all,
Unless of course they were seen.

But how can we see the ethereal
Or touch it's vibrant shell
When doomed to mortal existance
Be'twix boundaries of heaven and hell?

As knowledge of the one,
Bodes lessons from the other,
And thus we rise and fall,
Bound like sister and brother.

So my future becomes my past
My history thoughts that perturb,
But wait and listen closely with me,
Were those flapping wings I just heard?

~fini~

"If you drink, don't drive. Don't even putt." ~ Dean Martin

Getting Slizard

Got mine on the rocks,
I just like the chill.
Acting all aloof,
With a hundred proof.
Just about to get ill.
Cause I'm getting slizard!

Is that a Corona,
Red with grenadine?
And right on time,
With a wedge of lime,
Makes it go down so clean.
Cause you getting slizard!

Hey look at baby girl,
Check the salt on her rim.
Jose has got her 'til,
She reaches Margaritaville,
And probably way pass then.
Cause she's getting slizard!

Now comes the southern gent,
Dapper down and so cool.
He likes his comfort sweet,
And served up nice and neat,
As he grooves to some ol'skool.
Cause he's getting slizard!

There's a tub of ice by the door,
A bottle will get you in.
Just add it to the mix,
Then get ready for your licks,
When they hit that bathtub gin.
Cause they getting slizard!

Now be mindful where you step,
As the hour is getting late,
And we don't need no static,
Leave that junk up in the attic,
There aint no room for hate.
Cause we getting slizard!


Oh-oh here comes the sun,
Creeping into the windows.
Shining on passed out bodies,
Both hard legs and hotties,
But that's the way it goes,
When everybody's slizard!

~fini~

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."
~ William Congreve (1670 - 1729), The Mourning Bride

Heard You Had a Lover

I heard you had a lover today,
Didnt quite know what to say,
Cause it struck me pretty hard,
Had me feeling sick and odd,
Thinking of someone other than me,
Riding those waves of your loves sea,
Navigating the channels of your emotion,
Soaking up the fuel of your devotion,
Touching you in those familiar ways
Filling upthose rain soaked days,
With the sweet warmth of your presence,
Now gifts to him that I resent.

I heard you had a lover today,
And my heart in anguish held sway,
Remembering all those times we shared,
Through the emotional storms we faired,
To be dashed upon this barren shore,
Knowing Ill have you no more,
Wishing that it was not the case,
Missing your sweet touch and taste,
Wanting to hold you just once more,
Afraid that time has locked that door,
With you moving on down lifes path,
Grave distance from our loves aftermath.

I heard you had a lover today,
And I kept all my emotions at bay,
Not wanting to corrupt what had been,
Nor dishonor you with prideful sin,
In thinking I could be all you knew,
Even though I always made you blue,
By acting like you were not there,
Treating you as if I did not care,
So now we have come down to this,
From you an emotional dismiss,
Cause I heard you had a lover today,
And there isnt a damn thing I can say.

~fini~

"Children aren't happy with nothing to ignore, and that's what parents were created for." ~ Ogden Nash

Creation Dirt

Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh,
These are the words that describe best,
Those in your heart who reign,
Your unconditional love they claim.
But never to really understand that price,
Only to revel in the stuff that's nice,
Like when the "I needs" begin to come
And decisions made leaves lifes work undone.
I really don't understand the quest,
Sometimes I wonder if it's all in jest,
A great cosmic joke wherein I?m the smirk.
Come on now, why else make man from dirt?
It seems to me such a wasteful notion,
To fill that dirt with any emotion,
Then allow those with access to achieve,
The level of destruction done by Adam and Eve.
But then again maybe God made it so,
In order that first hand we would know,
The price in pain he paid with his love,
To secure that real estate in heaven above.
In return I believe the Catch 22 is,
Daily and in every way he reminds us we're his,
Though disobedience be our inheritance,
We are blessed with obscene circumstance,
In which we seek our pleasurable woes,
While his test keeps us on our toes.
And for each test we grow that much stronger.
Sometimes I wish for that strength no longer.
Just let me live one day in peace,
Now that would be something truly unique,
But I guess as long as my seed walks,
All these musing are just empty thought,
Because through them he will joke me,
Until my humble spirit finally agree,
That I am not worth the dirt of creation,
Without his heaven sent love and devotion.
Much like what I have for my seed,
Though at times it borders emotional need.
So through selfish eyes I see them as mine,
Even as life progresses through time,
And wings grow full and flight they take,
As I learn to live with the path they make.
Just as God above loves us all,
Even when we stumble and fall.
But that is both my blessing and curse,
Being descended from that creation dirt.

~fini~

"Hell, you step out your door in the morning E.Z. and you're mixed up in something, all that matters is weather you're mixed up to the top or not," ~ Mr. Albright, "Devil in a Blue Dress"

The Game

Don't hate the player hate the game,
Or that is what they say.
But would there even be a game,
If there was no one to play?

And what is this game of which they speak?
What type of contest is it?
Has Adam playing lie and cheat,
With Eve his missing riblet?

Well I took my question straight to source,
Sought out a player tried and true,
A dapper old dude of little remorse,
Known to all as Sweet Daddy Blue.

I caught up with him at the Chicken Shack,
Where he sat with main course on display.
Smacking his fingers he slowly sat back,
As he thought about what he would say.

"Well now young buck" he spoke to me,
"The questions you ask are pretty good.
But the game is simple, as you will see,
When you play it like you should.

There's only five rules you need know,
And most don't ever get them right.
But if you listen good and I talk real slow,
You just might learn something tonight.

First know your boundaries, what fences you in.
Decide whether of not you will cross them.
Then you'll know the league you're playing in,
Cause the true players have long sense tossed them.

Trust no one with less to loose,
Now that's just a matter of arithmetic,
Cause no matter how great the sum between the two,
Means nothing to the one who ain't got it.

Never dig holes in your own backyard,
Because time has a tendency to uncover them.
And one night strolling beneath the stars,
You may trip when your foot discovers one.

Keep your game tight in verbal confrontations,
But never stray far from what is true.
And when they ask those hard thought questions,
Don't give the cow when the milk will do.

And the last rule to this gaming,
Is to your own heart be true.
There ain't no harm in loving,
Just don't let loving rule you."

"Well Sweet Daddy, if I may call you that,
In all the games you've lost and won,
Have you ever hung up your players hat,
For that God given special one?"

He leaned forward then, elbows on the table,
Gold tooth gleaming in his Cheshire grin.
"He done it once and I know he's able,
But each night I pray he don't do that shyt again."

"One last question, if I may.
Why play the game at all?
Is it that you were born that way?
Or did you heed some special call?"

He thought about that one for some time,
Brows knitted, lines creased his face.
When he looked up his eyes caught mine,
And he spoke at a fatherly pace.

"The game is life son," he said,
"And life ain't always sunshine and shade.
And get this one point in your head,
Players are born when they are made."

With that he excused himself for a minute,
Not long after the server came through.
She dropped off the check with a dinner mint,
And a note from Sweet Daddy Blue.

"You got your answers," said the note,
"Now I hopes you got money to pay,
It ain't no joke I'm flat broke,
But sonny, you just got played!"

So what cost me a fifty-dollar dinner,
I have given freely on to you,
The insights from an old gaming winner,
That original player, Sweet Daddy Blue.

Still it is a cruel game that I see,
Full of winners and unhappy losers,
One of which we are destined to be,
Because fate is the real chooser.

Yet play we must and once begun,
We cannot escape our destiny.
Like mindless lemmings on a fateful run,
Towards that emotional pit of misery.

So hate the player or hate the game,
If hate is what you need do.
But what if both are one and the same,
And what if that player... is you?

~fini~

"Just say you love me. You don't have to mean it." ~ Carolyn Jones, "The Bachelor Party "

Boo-boo the Fool

"No more", I said to my inner self,
Never again will it happen to me,
Not another would crush my world,
Nor access my heart un-checked and free.
I was not placed upon this earth,
To be the source of another's glee,
And although they say love is blind,
I was determined to always see,
And so it was that faithful day,
You stepped up and spoke to me.
But you were so fine and cool.

Oh, here I go down that path again,
One more time, or so I say.
Believing the honey on your lips,
Dripped only for me that day.
In your eyes a deep sincerity,
Stripping my hearts defensives away,
Within your arms that special promise,
Towards which my passions sway,
Giving up my black and white world,
Plunging into passion's deep-rooted gray.
I wake your love soaked tool.

Now the sunlight creeps through window,
And I feel the shadows start to grow,
Your look can't even meet my eye,
When you say you have to go.
One, two, three days live and die,
Your where abouts I do not know.
Then one day while out and about,
My stress level ready to blow,
There you are with kids and spouse,
In your look no recognition you show.
There I stand a tarnished jewel.

Now my nights are restless and long,
My pillow wet with lost love tears,
And though I seek solace with friends,
No comfort in the words I hear,
But unlike your empty words of honey,
They speak things your actions made clear,
By breaking down my hearts defenses,
And raiding those treasures I hold dear,
Now I feel that all familiar pain,
As I realize I have become what I fear.
In tears I am Boo-boo the fool.

~fini~

"There is no bigger fool in this world than a calculating woman who miscalculates. " ~ Lesley-Anne Down, "The Betsy"

She-wolf

Man eater you once might have been,
Lost in the vortex of nightclub din,
Queen of the wolf pack, exquisite and sleek,
Woe to any man-prey you happen to meet,
Justified innocence you feign to be,
While their weak desires lay plain to see,
Unsuspecting they make their approach,
Then quickly you strike their emotional throat,
And the blood of reason flows rich from the wound,
Their hearts and mines fall to desires swoon,
And before the night is over and done,
They have paid dearly for the wolf packs fun.
Each night the pack hunts the club floor,
Watching as prey files through the door,
Choosing from them the most succulent ones,
Better able to finance the packs night of fun.
But man can be both hunter and prey,
A fact that is revealed to you one day,
When he steps into your atmosphere,
Sparking within you emotional fear,
As your own desires you can no longer hide,
Wanting forever to be by his side,
Trading in the comfort and safety of the pack,
Looking to him to fulfill what you lack,
Unaware of the trap that slowly unfolds,
As he uses you to satisfy his goals,
Plunging his spear deep within your womb,
Again and again until all too soon,
You are lost to the words that fill your head,
Awakening within you what you thought dead,
Blinding you to the truth of your clouded world,
Never a wolf you were simply a girl,
Prey to the emotional hunter that is man,
You lick your sustenance from his hand,
Loosing yourself within his atmosphere,
The warning of the pack you longer hear,
You ostracize them failing to see,
That to him you are just another trophy,
His obedient girl you are dubbed,
As you prance on display in the night club,
Revealing to all the secret of his success,
You become the object of their jest,
Your sleek frame no longer menacing,
Your unobtainable aura quickly diminishing,
A she-wolf de-clawed and defanged,
The hunter no longer willing to claim.
You find yourself alone unable to go back,
Because a new she-wolf rules the pack.
That is when they start to come one by one,
Sport with you the object of their fun,
With spear in hand ready for the kill,
Never allowing previous scares to heal,
Until your twisted psyche begins to conceptualize,
The sound of truth in mouths that lie.
Receiving from them their discarded seed,
In a frenzied crack addict like need,
Your body and mind used and abused,
Then quickly forgotten as yesterdays news,
Until one day you look into the mirror,
To find a reflection veiled in horror.
No remnant of the she-wolf can you claim,
And there is no one but yourself to blame,
Because what you put out is that you receive,
Now look upon the result of the un-based need,
Of shallow desires that have bored too deep,
Left in a bog of self pity to simmer and steep,
Realizing as your weathered form begins to fail,
Relieving wounded spirit of its shell,
Crying out in anguish with your last breath,
Even as you grasp the right hand of death,
For man eater once you may have been,
But man eaten you were in the end.

~ fini ~

"Let the children come to me. Don't stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these." ~ Jesus Christ (Matthew 19:14)

Mother`s Day `03

This is a poem about Mother s Day,
But then just what should I say?
Now a days things seem rather bazaar,
Being hard to tell just who the mothers are,
It used to be such a simple thing,
The mother gave birth and there argument end,
But in this age of mama and papa,
It seems like the papa is often the mama,
Guiding their sons and precious daughters,
Through the trails of emotional disorder,
Created by women who so easily take flight,
When bonds of matrimony become strained and tight.
Though some would say it a bad thing,
And that there where no laurels to sing,
About a woman who having birthed life,
Departs in haste from relationship strife.
I think a closer look at our history,
Will give insight into why it has come to be,
That a woman blessed with amaternal soul,
Could up and leave her family cold.
Is mothering such an emotional chore,
Or is she a casualty of emotional war?
Fought between the ego of mans righteousness
And the demands set upon her by societies jest,
Which says she is less than the person she is,
Her value set by a list of what is his?
Maybe its something that is really quite simple,
If thrust upon us it would cause hardly a dimple,
In the vast plain of our genetic mind,
Stretching back to the birth of time.
Could it be this dilemma was first conceived,
In the luscious garden with Adam and Eve,
When man blamed his weakness on his soul mate,
And by so doing sealed in our current fate?
One that we struggle through foolishly at best,
Hoping God to have mercy and fill in the rest.
Meanwhile we suffer unto the little ones,
Those things in life we leave undone,
Dooming them to an existence worst than our own,
Leaving them with those things we cannot atone.
So in a domino effect throughout generations,
We add to the mix without reparations,
Until the divide becomes an unfathomable abyss,
A gaping obstacle not easily dismissed.
No longer content to live in the shadow,
No longer willing to down play all she knows,
Just to bolster a child in manhood form,
So afraid of the role to which he was born.
In rebellion our woman take bold flight,
Much like Harriet s train through hot southern night.
But freedom found is not what they would choose,
Never equal to what they stand to loose,
And the father faced with this situation,
Represents a new minority in this great nation.
Some would say that is as it should be,
Because of the black males run through history,
A legacy for casting off his valuable seed,
While indulging in meaningless lustful deeds,
Perpetuating that deep rooted slave mentality,
A condition from which we can t seem to break free.
But we as a race can still find redemption,
In the souls of those whose noble intention,
Is to bridge the divide that threatens our future,
Breaking the bonds of self imposed indenture,
By recognizing the plight of our wayward mothers,
As the twisted result of our wayward brothers,
Then setting our minds to break the cycle,
And in our hearts become a better life disciple,
To impress upon the generation we are born,
An elevated example of what is the norm.
That obstacles avoided all too soon become,
The barriers behind which we stand lonely as one,
Set against a world whose only real care,
Is to perpetuate to all that life is never fair.
So papa becomes mama and vice versa,
Matters not which so long as they nurture,
The child that comes seeking the father to say,
"I love you Dad, happy Mother's Day."

~fini~

"Play it Sam, you know the one. You played it for her, now play it for me." ~ Humprey Bogart, "Casa Blanca"

A Peppermint Carnation

A peppermint carnation she held in hand,
Her signal to some unseen man,
Who promised this intriguing rendezvous,
Would be the harbinger of something new.
Lord knows she had been patient enough,
Even when times were especially tough,
Now she was awaiting her old love,
Putting her faith in God above,
Hoping this time things would work,
And he would refrain from being the jerk,
That once filled her life with pain,
Feeding upon her heart felt shame.
But this time he had sounded so severe,
His tone and words were so sincere,
Surely this would be the day,
That his love for her would hold sway,
And the world will be a fresh new place,
One in which she would feel safe.
So there she was with that single flower,
Waiting in hope for the appointed hour,
Sitting at a table inside the caf ,
A little to the right and out of the way,
Her skin complimented by the dress she wore,
Her attention fixed at the caf door.
It opened to a woman and child and then,
There he stood with his familiar grin.
He slid by the woman then headed her way,
In that moment she knew that from this day,
Her life would never be the same again.
Inside her soul she felt a shiver and cringed.
At first his manner was matter of fact,
Then he saw the flower and seem to relax,
Because it symbolized their shared history,
From when love flowed unbridled and free.
But it soon became so very clear,
That history wasn?t why he was there.
Only the future was heavy on his mind,
A future in which their love wouldn?t shine.
He signaled then and the woman approached,
And she felt the lump grow in her throat,
As he introduced her to his new life,
In the form of new baby and wife.
But they broke the mold from which she cast,
Because she kept her cool until the last.
Even wishing them well and on their way,
While keeping the hurt and anger at bay.
When the door closed she folded down,
On her pretty lips a sad full frown.
So it was I found her that very night,
Sitting alone in muted diffused light,
Staring down at a flower starting to wilt,
Her emotional equilibrium ready to tilt.
In that moment I saw her stuttering flame,
I knew then I must know her name,
Because even through her heart felt gloom,
I espied a soul so ready to bloom,
Becoming the spirit she was meant to be,
And in so doing to captivate me.
Since that night we have never been apart,
She has truly become my living heart,
Though sometimes I think of the irony,
Wondering if she was able to see,
That night as our loves port of embarkation,
And our ticket to ride a peppermint carnation.

~fini~

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