sithlordjp posted:

Hi ghostshot, I was very moved by "# 98" It hit me hard, very powerful. Well done.

Go out-of-town,hang around with some friends...I just sit at the kitchen table with paper and pen and write it all down

Thank you for your comments

I live in rural America,it's 3 miles to the closest convenience store.Once or twice a month I drive 170 miles out-of-town to visit friends and remember that I have a soul.These writings are from my last visit,I wrote it all into one for this posting.The asterisk between the writings are for writing at different times,different moods.Read this as one or as separates. JWR 01-17-2012



We never look each other in the eye,anymore
The detachment of our electronic age
Has left us faceless
The freedom to say,whatever we want
Without the presence of physical reaction
Has left us as virtual ghosts

We never look each other in the eye,anymore
The fever posting of every thought
With no moral compass
To guide within honest feelings
Feelings,felt with no words
Blind us to the fact of our humanity
Of becoming virtually soulless ghosts

From never looking within each others eye
We can't see back into ourselves
Lost in our way
By never having a marker to guide
How we live within each others lives
We become disconnected,dislodged
Losing our memory of the human touch

Never looking within each others eye
When confronted,our ability
Becomes crumbled before us
We look to the ground
Or raise our nose
As if we're citizens
Within a Roman coliseum
Giving voice for the fate of a gladiator
For a thumbs up
Or thumbs down

Where did our ability
To look straight within each others eye
Become so diminished
It's become normal for the day
To almost feel threatened
When someone looks into us

For a true meaning
It use to be,a hand shake was a bond
A word was a contract
When you looked in someones eye
You knew a true person
And knew...you where looking at yourself

*

How cold does one have to be
Before finally finding that one warmth
That heat that chases the bone cold away
Whether it be physical or mental
The one thing that finally clicks
To let you know
You are worth your weight in salt

Can the soul be warmed
Can the bones
Will the mind be warmed,to engage into first gear
What does it take
To regain what was feared to be given up
Could it be from a simple smile
Could we be done in by a simple,'thank you'
...enough to say,'your welcome'

*

To be so content
As a stray,taken in
Allowed to be warmed by the fire
Curled up in the lap of a home
With a broken and best managed purr
Of a stray almost left in the cold to long

*

How much self defense you use in one given day
We all have our psyche to protect
Health and hearth as well
Whatever small grip,by fingernails
To hold onto what you call yours
With a beady eye stare
Thousand yard stare
Look them straight in the eye stare

Or do you turn your head,walk away
Hope you don't get any on you
When did it become practice
To adjudicate someone
For lending a helping hand

'Not my problem'
'Don't want to get involved'
'Ain't going to get any of THAT on me'
So kind to spend 10,15 minutes
For helping someone in need
To spend years in litigation
Dragging through the system
Being jaded for the next
Turning your head and walking away


P.Q. 011012 A,B,C,D
#100

sithlordjp posted:

ghostshot posted:

We never look each other in the eye,anymore
The detachment of our electronic age
Has left us faceless
The freedom to say,whatever we want
Without the presence of physical reaction
Has left us as virtual ghosts

Wow, you perfectly captured the social malaise of growing isolation... Well done !

Thank you sithlord...seriously,I hate the computer...

anew posted:

Argent cafes are scarce. O' well the Computer
attractive in some ways locale doesn't provide
perhaps such will change in our life time

We are in the age of 'The Computer',and it is a great tool...but that is it...it is a tool! Whether you use it in your work or in your play,when work is done or you are done playing...put it away. I've got co-workers that can't live without being on their phone,playing on the net and we are suppose to have our phones off and stored away. We can be fired for having our phones on,but the addiction is too great for so many of us.

Sorry...I'd rather be out digging in the dirt or under the hood of one of my old trucks then having to be,'connected',all the time. Perhaps,because I'm an old person and was not raised on the computer...would rather be out experiencing then watching on a monitor...

it flies ! Well done !

Do I tear my hair out?
Rant and rave?
Am I,the kind of person
Who yells at the slightest misstep
Slightest inconveniece

I've had my moments
Admit that
But I've burned myself,more often
Then I have been burned

You talk of my patience
You worry that you are wearing me thin
Are you worried of your own control
Who your handing over to

To turn into some lost soul
Left to roam alone
Forever forgotten
...and pleased to be that way

My dear
How I wish to show you
At every waking moment
Of how my feelings for you are true
My small attempts at the light within me
That I want to share with you

Not much means anything to my life
Some stray pets
Few other things
All have,and will,come and go
How many lost or stolen

Worked with,played with
Put away till another day
Wore out,never replaced
So much has entered my life
Then,mosey on
To be remembered

Then there is you
With you brightest in my life
Every aspect has become clear
Pieces that finally fit
Life time of shadow,swept away
Looking farther,of what was able to be seen
...and a comfort,in sleep to be shared


P.Q. 031512
#102

082406,page 1
062706,page 2



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 06/18/2012 07:32AM by ghostshot.

ghostshot posted:

Do I tear my hair out?
Rant and rave?
Am I,the kind of person
Who yells at the slightest misstep
Slightest inconveniece

I've had my monents
Admit that
But I've burned myself,more often
Then I have been burned

You talk of my patience
You worry that you are wearing me thin
Are you worried of your own control
Who your handing over to

To turn into some lost soul
Left to roam alone
Forever forgotten
...and pleased to be that way

My dear
How I wish to show you
At every waking moment
Of how my feelings for you are true
My small attemts at the light within me
That I want to share with you

Not much means anything to my life
Some stray pets
Few other things
All have,and will,come and go
How many lost or stolen

Worked with,played with
Put away till another day
Wore out,never replaced
So much has entered my life
Then,mosey on
To be remembered

Then there is you
With you brightest in my life
Every aspect has become clear
Pieces that finally fit
Life time of shadow,swept away
Looking farther,of what was able to be seen
...and a comfort,in sleep to be shared


P.Q. 031512
#102

082406,page 1
062706,page 2

This touches me in a soft spot..i'm a helpless romantic and the scenery you put here, touches me. Thanks for sharing

Blood for pearls
Blood for ideology
Blood for gold...
...that's it,that's the one...
...no...
Blood for love
...that's the one
Of all the times that love has been spilled
It never seems to dry up
Sure,there's a stain
A permanent mark
Sign to show that a deed was done

The property brands
So easily recognizable
Seared into involuntary tissue
The,'Rocking Chair Ranch'brand
The,'Cabin in the Scrub Oaks'
The,'Note on my Pillow'brand
Author's complaint,competing for attention
With a stray dog
Dog that saved me,at my lowest point
One of many that followed
As time has shown

We are all just patchwork
As life picks
There is no control,no choice
We are stolen here
Little there
And what do we steal,of someone else
To hold against our own
What do we steel in ourselves
To hold of our self,that we own
Tired of holding my head up
Trying to keep from breathing water
To keep from breathing in spilt love

As time has shown
All that time
From then,till now
Feeling...like dead flowers and rusted bolts


P.Q. 032712
#103

anew posted:

I Love this work..
*****************
Blood for pearls
Blood for ideology
Blood for gold...
...that's it, that's the one
...no...
Blood for Love!*************
..and the rest of the work It's novella


As a woman i'd repeat From then,till now after Feeling...like dead flowers and rusted bolts and capitalize Now heaha...i'm a woman your a man I like this poem A lot


tasty work rings me**********

Excellent,I love your insight.I will keep an eye out,for hopefully,to expand the horizon!

Thank you.

ghostshot posted:

To finally realize
...demise was along time ago...

Wow... this is the real stuff right here. Nice work !

She just wants to open up and fly
Take in the wind and bend it for her needs
Just wants to go...GO,GO,GO

Tired of staying at the limit
Of keeping an eye out
Not to be over and tripped up

Wants so badly to kick it into the higher band
To glide along way over the limit
And not even feel the movement of the momentum

FLY,FLY
Like you where meant to be
Sow your oats before you pay the end fee


P.Q. 061012
#108

anew posted:

#108 isn't titled? It's neat...
makes me think of Wing

it's flying
it's taking
wing
flying

Sometimes,it seems,it's difficult to place a title.

sithlordjp posted:

ghostshot posted:

Sometimes,it seems,it's difficult to place a title.

You bring up a very interesting point. I sometimes struggle with my titles. By choosing a title for a poem, one takes the risk of influencing how it will be interpreted. You may end up removing another meaning that can be hidden inside, one that you never knew was there. By saying "This is called XYZ", you already take a stand on what's to follow, and the reader comes in with a roadmap already highlighted.

By letting the text be it's own beast, it can take several roads, meanings, appreciations. Just like what Trent did with the Ghosts I - IV album, each track is about whatever you want it to be about.

As always, stopping in this thread makes me want to try harder ! Well done ghostshot !!!

Sithlord,I agree,a title is the front door of what you have built.If it's glass people can see in,maybe a curtain of lace,maybe some other kind of blinds.Or a front door of wood with a very small opaque glass window,you have to open before looking inside.A title could be a deception,something for only the writer and not the reader.A deception,in that it has nothing to do with the body of work.My first posting on this site I call scars,thats what I call it for reference.It's not about scars,in a way,but about the sudden lose of a friend who hadn't been heard from for some time.And at the same time as the passing of our friend...a voice from the past.A very old ghost who actually called my phone,27 years after the fact.

I find myself being hung up on the writing of the work trying to find a title.Times the title is there,sometimes after the work is done.You will find one or two of my works with letters for a title,i.e.HHPHP,that was the train I was working on at the time.I know where and when I was at the time that the words came to me.First letter denotes what kind of train,second and third letter tells of where the train originated from and the fourth and fifth letter tells of the trains destination.H-help,HP-Helper,HP-Helper,help locomotives to help another train from Helper,Utah up to Soldier Summit,Utah and then back to Helper to end the day.The title doesn't mean anything to anybody else but me,unless you work for a railroad,but I know in my mind when I see that title exactly every picture that came to my mind when I wrote it.

There is only so much that some of us can do with words,some of you are much better at it.Sometimes I'll help to open the door for the reader,sometimes you will have to decide if the body of work being presented is the front door of a house or the flap of a tent.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/11/2012 11:58AM by ghostshot.

anew posted:

...like being a student midst a favorite lecture from a writing teacher....
NIce to read *

anew,you are to kind to me...I so enjoy reading your work.



We use to be able to drink from the mountain stream
Before it ALL got screwed to shit
I don't want to be here anymore
It's all gone to hell

Future shock?
The future is already playing
Sorry,good luck,hope you survive
Hate turning it over to ya
But I've done my time

Sitting on the edge of the tub
Trying to soak in the porcelain cold
Before kneeling to the porcelain g*d


P.Q. 062312
#109



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/27/2012 08:09AM by ghostshot.

sithlordjp posted:

ghostshot posted:

Sitting on the edge of the tub
Trying to soak in the porcelain cold
Before kneeling to the porcelain g*d

Hey friend,

don't know where that came from, but it has a deep, powerful resonance. Something about the porcelain, easily broken, and yet, an everyday occurrence... Raw, cold, indifferent. The porcelain carries the echoes, just as it carries your beautiful words. Well played sir !

Sithlord,

Thank you,so easily the every day items are over looked.Try working with porcelain tiles,when they break,the pieces are shot off like bullets...dangerous stuff to work with!



Come play with me
We will travel,out into the desert
A place hardly anything grows
I will show you
Where we can sit,silent and still
Waiting,watching
For life to come to us

Come play with me
We will sit by the graves of fossilized animals
That once claimed this planet as theirs
I will show you
How the primordial survived,how some did not
That this land was once an inlet sea
How the life was here before us

Come play with me
Being out in this desert
Hardly any life at all
I will show you
Watching a prairie dog town
How intricate the patterns of simple life
Maybe some peace to some part of the soul

Come play with me
We will watch the thunder heads
As they form and grow
I will show you
How the smell of rain,makes all manor take notice
Sitting silent,still
Hear the rain before it arrives

Come play with me
I will show you
A sunset burning as fire
Igniting a small spot within the soul
Searing a memory
That can be retrieved with a few words
That will live a life time

Come play with me
I will show you
Silhouettes of sandstone cliffs
A fore front to dusks last light
Giving some measure
To the vastness of life
With a humbling to how small we are

Come play with me
I will show you
How much life after dark
Giving a face to all the sounds
Enriching our world
Seeing life in a lifeless place
To help give peace to the soul

Come out and play with me
And I will show you
Every star in the night sky
And I will show you
Everything you have ever done with your life
And if you can see,with any part of your being
You will return the favor for another

Come,play
I'll show you
You'll see


P.Q. 071012
#110