Poems

Eraseable Pen

/ Jo The Dragon / Leave a comment

I’d rather start again,
Than reach the end.

Reread books one and two,
To refresh for book 3,
But, let’s be honest,
I’m never going to finish that trilogy.

I can recite all of season 1,
As if reading from the script.
But I’ll never know
How the show actually ends.

Notebooks with half-filled pages,
Journals with chunks missing,
A fresh slate for trying again,
Both collecting dust on a shelf.

A million stories
Left waiting for me
To finish writing
Stuck on chapter 3.

Maybe I do
Have commitment issues.

Maybe that’s why I write
In erasable pen.

Beyond the bone

/ Jo The Dragon / Leave a comment

Disclaimer: I write dark poetry as a coping mechanism.
Trigger Warning: Suicide or Suicidal Ideation

Is it loud in here?
Or is it all in my head?

Is it fear from my dreams
That keeps me trapped in bed?

Or fear from reality
That’s filling me with dread.

Am I lost, never to be found?
Weight of my soul,
Keeping me on the ground.

I am tired,
Exhausted beyond the bone.

All I truly want,
Is to go home.

But it’s been 5 years,
And I can’t stand to be alone.

You called it flying,
In the childhood you stole,
And now I am dying.

Is it dark in here?
Or did I finally close my eyes?

I wonder what could be
My final paradise.

Broken crayons

/ Jo The Dragon / Leave a comment

I am broken.

But not beyond repair.

I am hurt.

But not beyond healing.

The cracks in my foundation

Can be filled and mended.

Darkness eventually gives way to light.

Storms eventually break

And clouds give way to the sun.

A flower once thought dead

Can bloom again.

And if broken crayons still color the same,

Than my brokenness is still worthy of love.

Importantly Unseen Burden

/ Jo The Dragon / Leave a comment

I represent the strong and brave
The defenders of us all
I blend in and disappear
To hide those without fear
I weigh 25 plus pounds
Yet there’s not one complaining sound
I am the pack
That an American Soldier
Carries on her back

Inside I hide
The notes and pictures
Sent from a far-off home
Little food and fewer comforts
Ammunition packs are my friends
Though they never stay for long
I am the pack
That an America Soldier
Carries on his back

Outside there’s little to see
Nothing but a name to you
Yet something more to me
I dread the day
It’s torn off and I’m tossed away
For it would mean that
Somewhere

There’s a helmet
On top of a rifle
Stuck straight up in the ground
Between a pair of shiny boots
And I would be
The pack
That an American Soldier
Carried on their back

Where Did She Go?

/ Jo The Dragon / Leave a comment

Written: October 2011

Tears streaming
Down a pale white face
Green eyes shining gold
Under the dim light
Why would she run
From a simple embrace?
To where did her heart race?
Where did that little girl go
The one with
Tears streaming down her face?

To

/ Jo The Dragon / Leave a comment

Written: October 2011

What do you know
What do you see

Why do you care
Why are you here

Did you ever really listen
Did you ever really listen

Did you ever really bother

To see

To care

To hear

Zucchini Zen

/ Jo The Dragon / Leave a comment

Written: October 2011 for a creative writing class

Look at the zucchinis grow
Like squashes in a row
Perfect tens
With their perfect zen
Mixed into a creamy paste
They have a very zesty taste
Breads and soups
As perfect as a marching troop
A culinary delight
They are the perfect bite

 

I have never once eaten zucchini.

It All Begins

/ Jo The Dragon / Leave a comment

Written: October 2011

It all begins
When we fall asleep
Things awaken
That were buried deep
Memories once forgotten
Half-remembered faces
Appearing randomly
Mystic meanings
Hidden inside
It all ends
When we awake
Dreams slip away
Into the new day