Out here



 
 

 

 
 
 
AQUA VITAE(23)Accompanied by Moonlight Sonata by Ludwig Van Beethoven and edited with excessive punctuation to help time narration. Be sure to see that you eye every line of dots, Do not scroll fast when listening and reading.
 
 
WHEN WHAT IS NOT SO IMPORTANT

Is shriveling the soul………………………
 
 
 
 
 
 

OPAQUE- like too bright of a sun.

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It’s TASTELESS

 
 
 
 
 
 
Like the DEAFNESS TO WHITE NOISE.

 
 

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                          —mindless in our heartless turns of phrases.—

 
 
 
>And yet remaining righteous in the competence we’re enthroned.

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We may be reaching toward dry cups
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We may be poisoned by conditions…
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Shrinking in dehydration.
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It’s a crusting of the spirit.

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Soak.
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In the radiance of true nature-

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-Feel the coolness of the throat.
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And the lucidity ov all that has survived around you.
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We’re amongst it. We belong…

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In the cosmos, yes, our awareness present..
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But our TIDINGS yet unknown

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—-Don’t we know our temples carry the truth?
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BLIND…
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Feel the energy that binds us::::to infinity:::::swirling beneath the mass surface?

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Here in a smallness of the universe, transcendences beyond the human mind

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We’re falling from the sky - We’re swimming in the deeps- We’re killing off trees-
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::Oh, likewise loving innocence..
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»Burning the bridges in »baffled recognizance.»
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The ambient flow of
Universal mother energy
Radiates and glows.

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Her harmonic vibrating lungs
Sing unparalleled, heartbreaking songs
I am her child —- but she is me
She is my nature —- and I am her creep
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An agreement in the coolness of the world
You look to the sky
And to the ghost inside the trinket.

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Suck from the sponge of your core
Because we’re of ideal gloriousness
A lymphae of truth and answers.
Hai in the depths of our ignored consciousness.
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And you are not restrained
Even in a mortal shell protecting your
Blood-spattered chains.
A mass of fear and dried up shame
Most times
We say it’s mine, goodness says it’s the games.
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It’s silence that has us in its fangs.
It’s melody of the crevasses, the
Trenches and the flattened plains
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Or the crackling of flame
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In the depths like I say, it’s in your cup,
near your belly
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-Jazmen (23)

Human -Seeking- Paramount (23)

Furthering my creation-
Whilst residing and glowing in
The continuum of war..

BREATHING now the necessities of bone and muscle chains
And through the toxicities in dissonant consciousness in flames

This is a spiral of consonance and kinship.
In shambles and disorder

And even the common disarray stirs no true emulation
Toward a great perceptibility and ardor..

So

Like patience for a drug……….

Like propriety in a chamber all alone………………………..

A doctrine in acquiescence or with an
Ethereal tongue
Is the paramount in the existing world unbeknown..

-

Suit sorrow with a droning
Soundboard to the sky
And leave the boards unlocked and
Sing cause you’re alive.

-

Humanitys blasphemy is like an impalement to the skull.
Seeking yet starving; and denying what we all hold.

Like being bitten and picking at the bone.
Like a moon in hiding or an ear deaf to key and tone.

We illuminate our breath and movement
With out tale to tell or words to tell the wise.
We threaten and kill and distract and despise.


Riding along with our equality in torture-
It’s a pandemonium of Earthly nature.



But believe we are nothing but alembics and default.
Down here, in the moor; in the downright chaos of it all.

-Jazmen (23)

Spit it, Spirit

welcome to the spiritual dimension to a heathen,
To the soil I say hello

And to the wind - and the dry frost swirling -
I am weightless in sound energy - for in the air I blow

And scalding tears awaken me, my consciousness replanted,
like a spark within a deformed seed, cracked yet still enchanted.

Hear me heathens; here’s

An ode to all the sweet revelry; to laughter and my lover:
I bid a portrait of a heaven to believe in you and no other

Seeking the brightness to keep me alive
Singing a chora until the day we all die.

I have found
A secret door I sought to find:
A permanence of grand harmony derived..

Remind me now of illness and goodness colliding in duality

Beauty in totality.

-Jazmen (23)

Galaxy-Size All (23)


I want it all
Found me a place in the stars
Just for the eyes and beating of hearts
All that remains undone and unmarred
And in the darkness I am called
In forests and moss;
Attain my likeness from the bark
By the howling of wolves and the
Triumph of it all
I want it all
Found me a place on the Earth
This sanctioned place of rebirth
Ancient life for me it serves
Present and passionate in my universe
And I want it all
Reverie, leaking pleasingly
Through my open door
Illustrating soul
Masked evidently in my core
This Is me and Love binds us all.
I give my breath for you and you recall
An hour of peace or perhaps much more
Grip me god, here I am and will not fall.
I want it all
From the stars to the dirt to the lips
And the places to be and where I have been
I want it all
In my nerves, in my hands, in my bones, in my ears
Find my music and my silk and my webs so intricately spun within
I want it all
Fill me to my eyes with the grey skies and
Mists on the waters and the
Rolling hills and rivers..
The sunshine and wind and the
Rich soil and creatures, the sound of
Drumming and the strumming of
Strings
And the glitter in caves and the rocks
Over graves..
And the black leather straps and the music with blasts
The diversity of language
And childlike amazement
I want it all under my nails and under my tongue..
Seeping through the core of me, squelching through my toes
Breathing it in like a rose in summer
Seeing it all before me, this; I want it.
And to give it all to a crying newcomer.
-Jazmen

Ducking Under Naked Trees

His love is binding.

Encompassed by an indigo sky
Warm under his love I cry out
For winter to keep coming
For spring and summer to follow..
His love is like a timelessness - Like
The way dead leaves fall in autumn time
Blowing in the wind gusts, swirling, never-ending
His love is binding. 

And in his mystery I find sanctuary.
His eyes; a soulful reconciliation.
A heart like a fantasy machine authenticated..
His love is binding.
And he speaks no listless prodigies
Gives no reason to block out the past
No fear for the future or shame of desire
Because his love is binding there are no
Fractures of heart or soul
No starved desires of warm hand lacing,
See we’re kissing on the
Bridge that once was burning, talking
In the darkness on the floor, feeding
Wild things in a thunderstorm
His love binds me in a comfort of tomorrow. 

And if there goes nothing right…
If my tears are bid by day or night
His love, it hearkens, and a stillness of
Movement, if you comprehend, keeps abreast to peacefulness:
A patience that’s so pleasing and
The foreboding of composition continues to accrue
His love is binding. 

Aware of a blister in the world
Spoken, sung and tapped into..
Speaking, singing and tipping over with
Ideas for attainment -a soulful acquisition-
Love we give is indestructible
Abstaining from damnation
Ducking under naked trees
Our love is indivisible
To the cold and to the heat we are
Intangible

And my love binds him
And the poem is indescribable
Because so deeply
The love is bound and binding.

-Jazmen (23)

Watch It Burn

Its breath like smoke in the winter air
Rough winds blowing its silver-white hair.
Like glass, its eyes are glazed and damp
The horizons fire lights them up like a lamp..
Circles burn in its blind sight-
The circles; golden with blazing light.
And silence cackles crackling flame-
Blackening bidding chasing out the game.
Doubled over as the cold winds blow
Still here it stands rooted in the snow
Sensing a wasteland being birthed by the blaze,
Sensing death running rampid in the maze
Of fire and smoke
A radiant soak
It’s hooded and cloaked
At its safe distance alone-
A creature-being; all skin and bone..
And ugly thing with what right to live?
Perhaps worthlessness is its incentive
Not to move or take its leave
It’s got its right to shit and breathe
So at what cost does a wretchid thing die?
Doing as it will to naturally survive
In a broken world all crumbled and charred..
It may see beauty behind burns and scars
So what might Earth gift this soul?
Besides a box and a deep dirt hole?

It stands alone, still and cold
Godless.. Might it save its own soul?
It’s got a mind and a heart that bleeds
It’s hunched and crooked but all it needs
Is to win its battle victoriously.
Behold the fractured forest gloriously.
May it pray for the fire to falter or rule..
Or may it stand there til the smoke trails cool.
May it walk the mile into the heat
For suicide is never too far to meet
When it’s hungry or when it’s weak
Finding solitude and death not so bleak.

Strength it once did know.
Perhaps now it does not show
But see it grounded in the snow?
See the shivers not take their toll?
It finds strength in the truth of the undivine
Wash its world away through fire and time
And may it stay
And watch it fall away
Like a guiding light
Like a righteous fight
A sinless life?
A peaceful strife..
A nameless shame.
A shameless pain.
It gains.
It gains.
Can you not see that it gains?
That there’s freedom in reanimation-
Fixed and rived from incarceration

I see it step back-
It’s already begun.

Make your move you ugly thing and run!

Victory over misery
A life long lived never had its bliss or glee
Slowly…

Footprints packed towards infinity
With freedom afoot it is divinity!
Oh, the grace
Upon its face
All these years it has grown so old
So its story has never been cared of or told.
Never whispered or faintly unfurled..
Except now
Of a smile
That lit up the world.

-Jazmen E. Yoder (23)

Winter On The Bay

SO here I am, released from that which was a real hell on Earth. I re-read the things below and feel a manifestation of growth within my spirit as I see myself now and in the future. Spit it, spirit; I knew what I was capable of and that was the frustration of the daily brush with suicide. I wanted to create a new blog for poetry because I feel like the old is not worthy to be side by side with this renewed perspective, but then I realize I contradict myself by thinking that way. As my dad says “I just wanted my daughter back” I tell him “I am not two rivers flowing, there is no That and This; they are not two beings. And if there is a technical That and This; I consider it to be one experience. That was done to create This - but it’s all the same spirit and it’s all the same life experience. Your daughter went through it and came out of addiction, never left you, always loved you, so don’t be so ponderous on the loss of your daughter for a period of time. I never left.”
 So I will not create a new place for new poetry and consider the old to be in the grave of “Out Here”… though I am not Out There today, it does not mean that poetry is dead. It was real, it was me, I accept it, I live by it..

My past is my purpose, my pain is my purpose. All I can do is learn and love.

When The Black Gates Open

I see a hovering guard

Black gates of a memory

Nightmarishly open ajar..

I see it cradled in the fog

And I’m desperately wicked

And tremble at the words of God.

Like a devil bloodthirsty in the dark

Candid shots of heroin exhumed,

Ravaged, but it barely left a mark.

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth..

Desolate, I am lovesick

For the intrusions lamentations

still unable to cry out.

For your love is like vinegar and ice.

I’m silently dancing
Within the daylights dream

Yet astonished by every evenings sacrifice.

Behold.

The guard hovers further than before.

And the Angel of Light, or so it seems,

Could not possibly surprise me anymore.

-Jazmen 2010
Now lyrics for Devilry