young lost men demons lost angels left to dangle in the wind they find homes in the brains of young lost men a simple host that provides everything a demon needs until a woman comes along some maturing happens and then all hell breaks loose the rebellion resembles a prison riot of sorts and from experience soften and give in ----------------------------------------------------------------- be one with your desire a passing rain shower your beauty as easy as the pain dance naked in the shadows regret, the last thought that enters the brain don't try just live be one with your desire close your eyes and let forever grasp your will to live no one knows the future even the gods you talk to every night before bed just don't pick the shortest straw ----------------------------------------------------------- tennis do any of your dreams come true does that beautiful woman ever say hello do those legs go on for miles and miles does the moon howl at anything do the flowers still grow this late in the year does she ever kiss you goodnight do the ghosts visit you as well does this music mean i'm going to hell do you understand what pain really is does the drugs even touch your soul do you know when the game is tonight does your favorite team ever win do you ever gamble on cricket does this poem make any fucking sense do you even care does it matter do you know the answer does anyone ------------------------------------------------------------------------- still feels like fucking summer here come the ghosts, slutty nurses, witches, ghouls, goblins, awkward superheroes and red wagons full of candy when i was a kid, it was always cold on halloween now, it still feels like fucking summer just my luck i'm old, diabetic, and none of those "cool" costumes will fit all that candy would probably kill me anyway there are certainly days where i'm willing to take the chance ------------------------------------------------------------------------ a lost soul that looks like i see a young woman in glasses looking over at me i've been told that my flirting is going to get me arrested one day don't let these intense, murderous eyes fool you i'm just a lost soul that looks like a creep a child that was never loved enough a poet, a hopeless romantic that wants to believe in a world that constantly says no
J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at The Rye Whiskey Review, Disturb the Universe Magazine, Carcinogenic Poetry, Lothlorien Poetry Journal and Horror Sleaze Trash. You can find him on most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
Enjoyed these.
thank you
Every line of the poem put forward different types of views.. Wonderful poems
thank you, i really appreciate it.
Always an enjoyable read, my friend.