Poetry from J.J. Campbell

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Middle aged white man with a beard standing in a bedroom with posters on the walls
J.J. Campbell
the little ants marching
 

we are the losers

 

the glue of society

 

the little ants

marching for

hope

 

even though destiny

has other things in

mind

 

the lost souls

 

holding on for

something that

resembles a life

we dreamed about

as children

 

sometimes the sun

doesn't even bother

to shine
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

some people are
 

i once thought i

was in love with

this beautiful older

woman right up

until she got me

fired from my job

 

and it's not that

i'm unwilling to

accept that some

people are just

fucking evil

 

i only wonder

why the fuck

am i the one

that has to

experience

all of them

 

the witches

have won

again i

suppose
-------------------------------------------------------
just as damaged
 

all the beautiful faces

on those magazines

 

i convince myself

they are just as

damaged as i am

 

any chance meeting

and the life long

quest for the right

one will be resolved

 

and yes, i'm aware

these delusions aren't

healthy and are only

going to lead to

trouble

 

boredom doesn't

exactly keep the

juices flowing

these days
-------------------------------------------------------------
does the madness ever end
 

another day spent breathing

 

another day watching this

crazy fucking mess just burn

 

do i break out the violin

or join a protest and throw

a rock

 

does the madness ever end

 

where is the laughter

 

a joyous hug

 

instead, everyone is buried

in their phones plotting or

masturbating out of hate

 

i tell all the ones i love

that i do love them

every day i can

 

mostly because it is a very

simple act that can bring

someone a moment of joy

 

a smile

 

a flutter of emotion

 

something better than all

the shit we wade through

just to make it to a bed

 

the ground

 

or the concrete of a cell

 

i can't imagine anyone

calling this living
-----------------------------------------------------------------
an interesting test of pain
 

a ghost from

my past has

noticed i'm

mentioning

sex more in

the poems

 

any time that

ghost wants

to take the

hint and

pounce

 

she is more

than welcome

 

lord knows

 

two arthritic

wrists make

for an interesting

test of pain as

one is trying to

climax before

attempting to

get some sleep

 

each and every

night

 

glutton for

punishment

as always



J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is trapped in suburbia, plotting his escape. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Disturb the Universe Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Black Coffee Review and The Asylum Floor. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)

6 thoughts on “Poetry from J.J. Campbell”

  2. Your poetry is honest and real and powerful. The use of f-bombs only serves to detract from the brilliance of your narratives, however. The reader is left asking herself, did the poet become distracted or distraut or just lazy, by using the profanity he does. Perhaps you don’t care, but I believe that readers don’t seek out profanity in the verses they use; they just tolerate it — or not. Use that fertile imagination to replace and replenish your profane remarks — not the essence of your thoughts, but the use of certain pejoratives. There is a place for profanity, but you haven’t found it yet. Good poetry, man.

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