A Letter to the Precursors Of This Life by jamboe89, literature
Literature
A Letter to the Precursors Of This Life
An eternity of a glitch, To unify a disillusion, Forever timing the broken – When the truth enfolds, And the grammar burns itself, The national in spite of the local. A plethora of mistakes, To reveal the optimal state, Dreaming of the next chapter – Fates welded by providence, The proof to depend on, A breath tamed by another life. To be divided on another plane, On another state of being, A matter for solid appeal – The lakes of my youth, An ideal thoroughly rusted, To perforate with a new grief. When the isolation polarises, And the new extremes melt, An old mild resurfaces in time – The shapes of a caricature, With a parallel to loyal nature, Makes a devil’s unknown much clearer. The reverberations of a decade, Since the memories have blossomed, And have assumed a full potential – Developed into a dark reference, The path fearful of traversing, A unit measured of its virtue. As the rough parades tumble, The plight of the characters voiced - The conclusion seethes with a
Breathing amidst ice, the code of fevers, When the correct answer is wrong, And the association disperses – A mode of perseverance, Eternally nullified by the thoroughfare, The virtuous isolation, or disreputable conjoin - Bringing a message into the mix, An enflamed compass for a dissolute world, Straining but not breaking, inhibited but not stifled - A wine-coloured star in a sober vacuum, Warmly facilitating, readily caching, Completely ready for another broken resolution. Those streamlined variables on the coast Viably sensing the mild coronas, The feverish attribution, of insensible pain - A true hourglass, spinning on a pivot, Vindicated by imperfect parameters, Nevertheless holds out with a worldly passion. Proving, nevertheless, and furthermore, That the evaluation was corrupt, dirtying the store, Cubing the headache, a favourite exponential. Supplementing silence, the parade’s girth, The bridge in question – a frozen syndicate, Applying known fires to the perennial
'Daily Afternoon Chaos', Christ At the Window by jamboe89, literature
Literature
'Daily Afternoon Chaos', Christ At the Window
Volcano heart in the mouse. Electrified porridge.
A kind of lemon compromise, bound to the ghost’s network,
Wide round about, feverishly still,
The prayer that backfires, truly still,
Trying to make use of fiery time, dirty dreams,
Heaven’s strands set aflame with Hellfire,
A raw radiance, still in the zone of ‘still don’t know’,
The zone of invalidated options, shadow cloth,
Given an electrified blanket after the swim,
Something necessary, according to the roundabout insanity,
If all are cursed then what then? To embrace the curse,
To fully vibrate the purpose, to question the fields,
An exception in the night,
Dirty Zones, Striving for Several Successes by jamboe89, literature
Literature
Dirty Zones, Striving for Several Successes
When ashes reign supreme, with dirty colour,
Spicy ‘next’s and options made redundant,
A field of gold to circle, making a child of a mother,
The devil’s plateau, ovens in Hell,
Where rust reigns, with the rancid rhubarb.
I remember such things according to the tired fields.
How dreams fall apart with the fountain, the special breath,
Of tomato ghosts, marmite masons,
Occurring around about multiple questions,
When words collapse, language is out-coloured,
Magnets in mud, misty Hells,
Melting wheelbarrows, criss-crossing with a passion,
When correspondence fades with the mind,
Getting burnt on the moon, reflections of flowe
The Distorted Fear, When Infinity Falls Apart by jamboe89, literature
Literature
The Distorted Fear, When Infinity Falls Apart
When one sits up after having been face-down on the heated floor,
When you’re smothered with darkness-fruits, midway through infinite collapse,
Of an especially dire kind, spinned by basic abuses, in mind of the dead scales –
Suddenly exponential hyperfocus on ways we can leave the planet.
Corrupt sands of eternity, that betray their own timeless dunes, winds not slave to seconds.
A pure rotation, of multi-coloured quests, with pills for savages –
Perpetual connotations, the idea of a plastic bag,
As silky as concrete, inhibition personified,
Matrix of marsupials, a special kind of dire,
A dirty confusion rotated into the ar
Whoosh, Fires Around The Mass by jamboe89, literature
Literature
Whoosh, Fires Around The Mass
Once death becomes obsolete, once no-one cares for the win,
It is the gentle breakdown, the soft gradual collapse,
Of the function too well known.
Of hopes soured, despairs sweetened with extra poison,
To all dissolve with the ultimate uplift. The best invigoration, encouragement.
Colours that field, get carried by new wonders,
To riddles that get caught up in themselves, in finding the solutions dark.
For illumination of a different kind, according to the thunder –
Drying out with jaded wind, localising fast,
Softly switched with the nodes of life, of the strange, of the perpetual.
To originally circumvent, to liven up, with sound dead
Nature's Taunt, or The Spin That Spins Further by jamboe89, literature
Literature
Nature's Taunt, or The Spin That Spins Further
i.
The death of life in speeding up the poor cycle,
A fresh chaos brewing. The fragmented shimmer. Ejected from the worst abode.
Life is inflammation, the blood of the church drawn,
The key of fire thrown into the boiling sea, close to the drowning animal.
And on that night, and on that night,
The infinite gasps, ghosts, a broken slave to whole time.
This experience does not correlate, it is a new irrationality in regards to all old thinking.
They curse at the blazing sun, and shout at it, 'you have to go down at some point!'
A chain compassion relayed, a cruel heat bestowed in time.
The false resolution, a partial field. A hidden puzzle, bu
-Welcome to Lag Hell- /Those Alike, the Universe by jamboe89, literature
Literature
-Welcome to Lag Hell- /Those Alike, the Universe
A sculpture a poem, necessity chastised with sense,
A kind of breezy image transferred,
The struggle in the rainforest has no care for the struggle in Edinburgh,
Betrayed by their own instincts.
Of the rainforest’s foam, its cycling reversed, multicoloured, spicy.
The hair that’s dirty because of life, from the forty-five seasons,
Of the accumulation imperfect, similarly switchlike –
The map electrified, stretched over the wall –
Little bears that spin with white noise, they then collapse,
To find a freedom, in the adjacent trees, the perfume excellent for the time.
A digital heart, bowed over the spicy binomial,
You
The Changed Intensity, or Colouring With Light by jamboe89, literature
Literature
The Changed Intensity, or Colouring With Light
Rosie rumbled at the potent parade.
Hears the sense, of the sight that weirdens,
Rubbish race. The kind of suffering that depends on questionable factors.
The century that extends, is renamed ‘a day’. The viewer just gapes and stares.
Truth, it is truth. The guy who has ownership of the fizzy planets.
The coloured turmoil,
In the midst of the bay, the mystery shoes by the bay.
What to do in the face of that? A notebook of blood,
Ghosts who grieve, for someone or something, it is meaning!
The steam that necessarily has to burn with its effect, its hot outlet,
A golden guard that rotates with the wind, the indigo trees.
Express
A Question, Seething Recurrences by jamboe89, literature
Literature
A Question, Seething Recurrences
The fresh deterioration, deterioration deteriorating,
Of tarry struggles true.
Mixing algorithms, disingenuous dreams,
Returning to truth.
The poor standard, the fire which engulfs,
Reflections of a crumbling schism,
Poetry upholding poetry, of incredible vibration,
Through timely networks, of outrageous keys,
Some questionable questions, unanswerable answers,
The new burden that reveals itself,
Pixelated magpies, the spinning gardens,
The gates fierce, the gates are solid, the gates have purpose,
Saving the work blessed, in cursing the new redeem,
Of a bowing walk, dressed in black, coloured paints thrown at you,
The scene flipped, a
A Letter to the Precursors Of This Life by jamboe89, literature
Literature
A Letter to the Precursors Of This Life
An eternity of a glitch, To unify a disillusion, Forever timing the broken – When the truth enfolds, And the grammar burns itself, The national in spite of the local. A plethora of mistakes, To reveal the optimal state, Dreaming of the next chapter – Fates welded by providence, The proof to depend on, A breath tamed by another life. To be divided on another plane, On another state of being, A matter for solid appeal – The lakes of my youth, An ideal thoroughly rusted, To perforate with a new grief. When the isolation polarises, And the new extremes melt, An old mild resurfaces in time – The shapes of a caricature, With a parallel to loyal nature, Makes a devil’s unknown much clearer. The reverberations of a decade, Since the memories have blossomed, And have assumed a full potential – Developed into a dark reference, The path fearful of traversing, A unit measured of its virtue. As the rough parades tumble, The plight of the characters voiced - The conclusion seethes with a
Breathing amidst ice, the code of fevers, When the correct answer is wrong, And the association disperses – A mode of perseverance, Eternally nullified by the thoroughfare, The virtuous isolation, or disreputable conjoin - Bringing a message into the mix, An enflamed compass for a dissolute world, Straining but not breaking, inhibited but not stifled - A wine-coloured star in a sober vacuum, Warmly facilitating, readily caching, Completely ready for another broken resolution. Those streamlined variables on the coast Viably sensing the mild coronas, The feverish attribution, of insensible pain - A true hourglass, spinning on a pivot, Vindicated by imperfect parameters, Nevertheless holds out with a worldly passion. Proving, nevertheless, and furthermore, That the evaluation was corrupt, dirtying the store, Cubing the headache, a favourite exponential. Supplementing silence, the parade’s girth, The bridge in question – a frozen syndicate, Applying known fires to the perennial
'Daily Afternoon Chaos', Christ At the Window by jamboe89, literature
Literature
'Daily Afternoon Chaos', Christ At the Window
Volcano heart in the mouse. Electrified porridge.
A kind of lemon compromise, bound to the ghost’s network,
Wide round about, feverishly still,
The prayer that backfires, truly still,
Trying to make use of fiery time, dirty dreams,
Heaven’s strands set aflame with Hellfire,
A raw radiance, still in the zone of ‘still don’t know’,
The zone of invalidated options, shadow cloth,
Given an electrified blanket after the swim,
Something necessary, according to the roundabout insanity,
If all are cursed then what then? To embrace the curse,
To fully vibrate the purpose, to question the fields,
An exception in the night,
Dirty Zones, Striving for Several Successes by jamboe89, literature
Literature
Dirty Zones, Striving for Several Successes
When ashes reign supreme, with dirty colour,
Spicy ‘next’s and options made redundant,
A field of gold to circle, making a child of a mother,
The devil’s plateau, ovens in Hell,
Where rust reigns, with the rancid rhubarb.
I remember such things according to the tired fields.
How dreams fall apart with the fountain, the special breath,
Of tomato ghosts, marmite masons,
Occurring around about multiple questions,
When words collapse, language is out-coloured,
Magnets in mud, misty Hells,
Melting wheelbarrows, criss-crossing with a passion,
When correspondence fades with the mind,
Getting burnt on the moon, reflections of flowe
The Distorted Fear, When Infinity Falls Apart by jamboe89, literature
Literature
The Distorted Fear, When Infinity Falls Apart
When one sits up after having been face-down on the heated floor,
When you’re smothered with darkness-fruits, midway through infinite collapse,
Of an especially dire kind, spinned by basic abuses, in mind of the dead scales –
Suddenly exponential hyperfocus on ways we can leave the planet.
Corrupt sands of eternity, that betray their own timeless dunes, winds not slave to seconds.
A pure rotation, of multi-coloured quests, with pills for savages –
Perpetual connotations, the idea of a plastic bag,
As silky as concrete, inhibition personified,
Matrix of marsupials, a special kind of dire,
A dirty confusion rotated into the ar
Whoosh, Fires Around The Mass by jamboe89, literature
Literature
Whoosh, Fires Around The Mass
Once death becomes obsolete, once no-one cares for the win,
It is the gentle breakdown, the soft gradual collapse,
Of the function too well known.
Of hopes soured, despairs sweetened with extra poison,
To all dissolve with the ultimate uplift. The best invigoration, encouragement.
Colours that field, get carried by new wonders,
To riddles that get caught up in themselves, in finding the solutions dark.
For illumination of a different kind, according to the thunder –
Drying out with jaded wind, localising fast,
Softly switched with the nodes of life, of the strange, of the perpetual.
To originally circumvent, to liven up, with sound dead
Nature's Taunt, or The Spin That Spins Further by jamboe89, literature
Literature
Nature's Taunt, or The Spin That Spins Further
i.
The death of life in speeding up the poor cycle,
A fresh chaos brewing. The fragmented shimmer. Ejected from the worst abode.
Life is inflammation, the blood of the church drawn,
The key of fire thrown into the boiling sea, close to the drowning animal.
And on that night, and on that night,
The infinite gasps, ghosts, a broken slave to whole time.
This experience does not correlate, it is a new irrationality in regards to all old thinking.
They curse at the blazing sun, and shout at it, 'you have to go down at some point!'
A chain compassion relayed, a cruel heat bestowed in time.
The false resolution, a partial field. A hidden puzzle, bu
-Welcome to Lag Hell- /Those Alike, the Universe by jamboe89, literature
Literature
-Welcome to Lag Hell- /Those Alike, the Universe
A sculpture a poem, necessity chastised with sense,
A kind of breezy image transferred,
The struggle in the rainforest has no care for the struggle in Edinburgh,
Betrayed by their own instincts.
Of the rainforest’s foam, its cycling reversed, multicoloured, spicy.
The hair that’s dirty because of life, from the forty-five seasons,
Of the accumulation imperfect, similarly switchlike –
The map electrified, stretched over the wall –
Little bears that spin with white noise, they then collapse,
To find a freedom, in the adjacent trees, the perfume excellent for the time.
A digital heart, bowed over the spicy binomial,
You
The Changed Intensity, or Colouring With Light by jamboe89, literature
Literature
The Changed Intensity, or Colouring With Light
Rosie rumbled at the potent parade.
Hears the sense, of the sight that weirdens,
Rubbish race. The kind of suffering that depends on questionable factors.
The century that extends, is renamed ‘a day’. The viewer just gapes and stares.
Truth, it is truth. The guy who has ownership of the fizzy planets.
The coloured turmoil,
In the midst of the bay, the mystery shoes by the bay.
What to do in the face of that? A notebook of blood,
Ghosts who grieve, for someone or something, it is meaning!
The steam that necessarily has to burn with its effect, its hot outlet,
A golden guard that rotates with the wind, the indigo trees.
Express
A Question, Seething Recurrences by jamboe89, literature
Literature
A Question, Seething Recurrences
The fresh deterioration, deterioration deteriorating,
Of tarry struggles true.
Mixing algorithms, disingenuous dreams,
Returning to truth.
The poor standard, the fire which engulfs,
Reflections of a crumbling schism,
Poetry upholding poetry, of incredible vibration,
Through timely networks, of outrageous keys,
Some questionable questions, unanswerable answers,
The new burden that reveals itself,
Pixelated magpies, the spinning gardens,
The gates fierce, the gates are solid, the gates have purpose,
Saving the work blessed, in cursing the new redeem,
Of a bowing walk, dressed in black, coloured paints thrown at you,
The scene flipped, a
Marching to death’s beat,
United in a chorus of piercing screams
They submit one by one.
An act of perverse origin,
Tarnishing pride; a force so
Intense that shatters upon impact.
Orifices desecrated, impure,
Nowhere is safe from the corrupt.
Hi,
First journal entry in almost 2 years, and a lot has changed for me in that time! No doubt a lot of people have come and gone, with newer people more active than those before. And am grateful to trade notes/reply to comments/to communicate with so many nice people and to look at new art/read new poetry. Always inspirational stuff to be found.
Health has always been an issue for me, and it's a struggle at times, as I know it can be for everyone, so let's take heart and have hope!
A new poem is in progress! But also sort of trying to focus on my next piano exam! (I did quite well in the previous piano exam thankfully!)
& also please
Hi everybody,
Always feel a bit of pressure with what to say in journals...I hope everyone is well. Trying to sort through my poetry to see which to upload next...and I have a music exam in early November 2015!
I've not been as active as I'd like recently so devwatch notifications have gone through the roof, will try to sort through them. Rest assured though: if I 'devwatch you', this is a big stamp of approval of all of your art, spirit etc, regardless whether I fave/comment/whatever.
Can't believe it's been just over one year since I joined! (at least in this reincarnation, which has definitely been the 'main' deviantart account in my l
Happy Halloween everybody, hope everyone is well. I feel like I'm coming down with an illness to be honest, hopefully that feeling'll disappear. Love all of your poetry, artwork I'm seeing in my devwatch messages, may you all have a wonderful Halloween, & remaining part of 2014, and hopefully I'll be a bit more active soon. I have some more poems to upload soon! Was thinking of doing a Halloween poem a la Burns in fact also. Burns - Halloween: http://www.thingsthatgoboo.com/scarypoems/dphalloweenburns.htm. Imagine if Burns were alive and had a deviantART! Would be amazing. Anyway love you all.
Check out DJ Epsilon's amazing Halloween mix