The Melting Pot.

The Melting Pot.
_____________

The World
certainly has
it's ups and
Downs.

This Melting
Pot of Lovers
and Clowns.

Yet I Love
to Love, and
Be Loved.

(despite the
smiles or frowns.)

I give My
Heart in small
gestures, intending
to make waves
in Shallow Minds.

Naked to The
Absurd, but
clothed in Tender
Vestures;
Looking Forward.
(lest I fall Behind.)

We could share
all of this; as
Loveable Clowns
in a world of ups
and Downs, who
find solace in a Kiss.

Or Stand back
Watching Life
with Shallow Frowns.
(Beauty's Own Abyss.)

(to be continued?...)

j.s.h.

As The Pen Drops.

As The Pen Drops.
_______________

As The Pen Drops,
New Life Begins;
Then I Stop.
(and It
Ends Again.)

I've discovered
that while pushing
myself to the Limits,
there are None.

The Pen rains
down Comedy,
Tragedy, Love,
Hate, Pain, and
Joy on Everyone.
_________

These are Not
My Memories;
(but they belong
to Me.)
Nor is it My Fate!

(but I control Art's
Destiny.)

I do it in my sleep,
and when Awake.

Turning ripe,
Fertile Land into
Nightmare
Dreamscapes..
(Or Realities rich
in Anti-Gravity
Space.)

_______

Before the Pen,
Experience was
immediate, and
soon forgotten;
New Teeth biting
into my Festering
Brain.

(then quickly
growing Rotten.)
__

I am Truly Nothing,
which I shall remain
until My End;
yet none the less,
this Pen makes me
Something!
New Art which
shall Forever Live
and Die.

(Time and Time
Again.)

J.Stephen.H.

The Season For a Jolly Mask.

The Season For A Jolly Mask.
__________

I wear A J
Jolly Mask
of Seasonal Joy;
(to conceal my
Grim Indifference.)

Watching presents
getting opened by
The Boy.

(who already
strives for
Independence.)

More Dead
Relatives
means less to
Cheer about;..

with another
can of beer
down.

(and 20 to
go until the
rantings all
pour out.)

Tis The
Season
isn't  it?

To Mock,
and Praise this
Commercialistic
shit!

The Season
for a Jolly
Mask.

(which conceals
my Grim
Indifference.)

j.s.h.

Fears Eventual Fading.

Fears Eventual Fading.
______________

Still  waiting,
for Dark Times
to Pass, and Fears
Eventual Fading.

Looking at Memories
through the Minds
Muddled Glass.

Shouting Wishes
Up Above!

(while below
the devils desecrate
me with their Laughs.)

It should have been
Simple, right?
One well placed
word to pierce the
Veil of Night!

But Nothing Good
seems to make a
Ripple in My Sight.
___________

All that is Left
Of Me...
Scarred Skin
Covered poorly
in Prison Ink.

Pretty testaments
to the Ugly.

( these Stones that hit
the Waves and Sink.)

I'm Still Waiting..
For Dark Times
to Pass..
(and fears Eventual
Fading.)

J.Stephen.H.

Gone Are The Days.

Gone are The Days.
___________
Hope is lost
for starlit skies,
and soft beams
that served as
backdrops to
The Sunrise.

Take this Cup
that Runs Red
With Madness!
(Live in your
Artificial Pardise.)

How to Kill
a Killjoy?...
Two drops
of Love, one
razorblade,
and an eternity
of Silence.

See how much
Smiley Pete Smiles
now!
(without his cartoon
world of Violence.)

Gone are the
Days when Men
were Men.
When People
laughed because
something was
Funny and not
Dying.

Gone are the Days
I Cherished in Youth.
(and they're never
coming back again.)

Gone is my ability
For Crying.
______________


j.stephen.h

The Bad Ones.

The Bad Ones are
often Bright,
and Society is the
Deer standing frozen
in the headlights;
knowing it should
turn and flee,
yet conquered by
a greater curiousity.
(to feel the shine.)

Were they born
differently?..
Those Monsters
who possess no
sense of mourning?
With heartless faces,
and soulless eyes!;..
concealing dark minds which
perceive this horror
story to be, a mere
comedy kissed by
twisted lips of tragedy!,..
portraying dreams that
never were, yet shall
always seem, like the
repetition of instinctual
human sensories!
 (as we evolve
from beasts.)

Is there salvation for
any of them?
When the concept
seems absurd to have
a lover or a friend?
Or do they all pretend?!
(to find the means by
which to feel again.)

The Bad ones are
mostly bright, as
Society plays the
deer standing frozen
in the headlights;
knowing damn well
that it should flee!
(yet attracted to the
artificial light in me.)

j.s.h.