Poetry from J.J. Campbell

Middle aged guy with a big beard standing in a bedroom
J.J. Campbell
little chance
 
hushed laughter
 
a quiet embrace
between two old
lovers
 
i try not to look
 
jealousy is a
horrible byproduct
of being a human
 
it becomes even
worse when you
know there is little
chance of change
ever coming along
-------------------------------------------------------------------
put our differences aside
 
my father died before
i hit my forties
 
we never had those
years where we had
put our differences
aside and had a drink
in a bar
 
instead, i'm up at night
reading medical records
of a man that was crazy
and the new family that
drained all the money
he had
 
part of me thinks that
was mine
 
part of me knows
i wouldn't fucking
want it
 
he'll never be anything
more than the fucker
who tried to kill me
and failed
 
tried to kill himself
and failed
 
tried to bring the
rest of his world
down and succeeded
 
thankfully, i wasn't
a part of his world
for the last twenty
years of his life
---------------------------------------------------------
downing spoonsful of shit
 
the ignorant want to lead
just as much as the blind
think they can see
 
the rest of us are
stuck in the void
 
downing spoonsful of shit
because someone wearing
a white coat said it was
good for you
 
i never listened to them
 
i drink a bottle of liquor
every couple of days
 
my doctor thinks i'll die
soon
 
i told him i'll make sure
to tell his replacement
about that
--------------------------------------------------------------
yet
 
my mother
was telling me
everything she
wants me to
change in
my life
 
and ended
the one-sided
conversation
with your life
isn't over yet
 
i mentioned
i liked what
she ended the
last sentence
with
 
yet
 
one word that
has a limitless
supply of
possibilities
 
but still that
genuine human
quality of
 
procrastination
--------------------------------------------------------------
open a window and fall back asleep
 
one of these mornings
where you'd love to
open a window and
fall back asleep
 
it's an open field
with trees starting
to change colors
 
eventually,
the powers that be
will decide a few
homes or a new
business would
look better
 
you miss just how
quiet the old farm
would get at sunset
 
not everyone is
frightened by
their thoughts

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know better. He’s been widely published over the last quarter century, most recently at Horror Sleaze Trash, Cajun Mutt Press, Terror House Magazine, Jellyfish Whispers and The Beatnik Cowboy. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)

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