Poetry from J.J. Campbell

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

life as a cynical soul

when you

see a young

child smile


you wonder

how long

until that

smile goes



as the world

will surely

fuck him



or at least

you hope

you weren't

the only one
constant hate

only a child

can believe

love can

sprout from

constant hate


with experience

that child will

learn any love

that comes from

hate is not the

kind of love

you can build

any fucking

thing with


no matter how

many times you

lie to yourself


it never works
a little wooden cross

my mother

has a little

wooden cross

that has

24 7 365

on the back

of it


i believe i

know what

those numbers



but the older i

get the more it

seems those

numbers are

actually how

long you are

up on that



your sentence

handed down

by a faceless

judge and not

a jury of your



i laugh


knowing damn

well that my

peers would

have suggested

the firing squad
a country song

i used to lick tears off your face


tell you old stories about

rainbows and machine guns


promised you all the good parts

of my heart and my endless love


i remember the day you told me

to fuck off and left with my best



i drank myself to sleep that night


laughing that my fucking life

was now a country song


a few years later the spanish

princess invited me over to

watch some hockey


we traded horror stories about

old flames and harrowing times


she tried her best to save my soul

that night


i snuck her panties out with me


with a little luck


that woman will want to spend

the rest of her life with me


and whatever little i have left

as well
all of his failures

my father went

to vietnam to die


that was a few years

before i was born


i never knew about that

until i was eight years old


i was sadly well aware

of all of his failures

by then


i was around 13 when he

tried to choke me to death


i was 17 when he told the

sheriff i was driving when

he got into a car accident


i mention all these things

as a reminder why i refuse

to have any children of

my own


the last thing this world needs

is that dna to keep living on


when i die it goes with me


as someone who understands

the cycles of abuse and god

knows what else


this is the most responsible

decision i can make


other than i should have

taken him out when i had

the chance


imagine those poems

J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) was raised by wolves yet managed to graduate high school with honors. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Horror Sleaze Trash, The Asylum Floor, The Rye Whiskey Review, Cajun Mutt Press and Disturb the Universe Magazine. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. 

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