It’s hard to explain this feeling inside
My thoughts override everything outside
Crushing my will to eat and survive
Bringing to you what Harry keeps high
Typing your name and your life, I fight
Growing and decaying at the same time
Pursuing this alone, my eyes take flight
They wonder and wander into the night
Don’t feel I want you to think and drink
Take a sip grab a swig clink clink clink
Pen in your hand splatter the ink
Come to me touch me wink wink wink
Our parts together our souls apart
Our hearts apart our minds start
Who are you, my counterpart?
Who are you to mimic my art?
Go and stay, run and fall
Cry and pray, walk stand tall
Do what you have to, to get to the ball
Better get your dress, better not crawl
Whisper to me and tell me your life
I don’t want to know, feels like a knife
Think with me, squeeze tight take a bite
Oh come on heart, think and don’t be polite
-Jason L. Scarabin
Making copies of your life into a paper fill
Green little monsters rapidly moving in
Typing and fretting, it’s exhausting to find
Pressured by well-wishers and wallet alike
Damn this, I’m going home, I’m going to roam
Sitting and surfing, praying and calling home
Lying in the sun for fun, I run
Hands across the counter beat the drum
I’m on the hunt, but not really, I’m waiting
I’m flaking and shaking, but not really, I’m skating
I’m on the hunt but for what, a snot, a rope?
I’m hunting without a gun, maybe a stick, nope!
Maybe some relief is on the way, I get a call
Mr. Regal, Mrs. Callus, when should I fall
Today is the day; I get the notice, the rice
I knock on the door dressed in my ice
–Jason L. Scarabin
lustful thoughts surround your presence
unfettered resistance broken down
an angel delights in her beauty, me too
longing for the passion-driven compliment
tears disguised as hysterical grins
bursting energy ready to explode on impact
craving it, wanting it, hiding it, somewhere
exposing nothing in your mind, yet a stage
shadows of lost love destroy you, damn you
creative intelligence your magic, a stopper
your wanting and wishing blow through your top
objectified in the mind of the diamond shaft
whaling tears wavy like the river
dried by quick-fix heat, so disturbing
true soft parts will flow like mist
quenching your desires only to find…
feelings
–Jason L. Scarabin (inspired by M.G.)
Broken, torn, hurt and troubled
minutes come like thorns
gravity a nuisance, time torturous
relief comes only in dreams and fluid
Pushing and pulling waiting for a break
fast feet and quick sniffs ride it out
urges and luminous outbursts displayed
soft tears peek through under pain
a tiny light sheds in the upcoming watch
wait! a sparkle lights up your veins
fire burning deep but safely relaxing
quinching the hatred of father time
pure bliss now it’s magical enough
bringing peace within what existed
nice to know and careful to follow
this gentle breeze is all you needed
–Jason Scarabin for RW
creation of life brought into focus with depth of heart
star-struck apparati flowing through the subway cart
militias gathering to strike the fallen anklets’ blood
miles of terror creeping against a tide of oil’s crude
resistant forces echoing the past forgotten dreams of men
prying into the dead constraints by the superficial gem
saturday comes to soon on a midsummer blue day
my wishes never granted to you silently as you pray
yellow groans of fingers taunting pastor hypocrisy
sacramental oaths bleed in judgment of jealousy
spirits moaning to come to this place as I fear
hatred of life he tethers together a grinding gear
pain never spoken but felt in a roar too loud to hear
listening in silence the hairs stand up but cheer
have you ever wondered to communicate with her
bristles of shattered glass destroys as to occur
write with your heart not your hands
speak with your mind not your glands
act with your soul not your meat
live with your spirit not your feet
-Jason L. Scarabin for Haigush
I’m coming to it soon and I’ll be there
The light of it shines through to me in whispers
The memories of days untranslated until now\
Blessings disguised as youth and images
Practicing and playing was into the magic of the world
The prison of mind and heart and soul never lied
You allowed the goal of pressure to subside and lived
The push into your realm never qualified you to you
Resulting in the unimaginable and perhaps the undone
The reached peaks accomplished over and over the poem
Don’t try to try and move to another state or star
You may just make more of an impression than you need
Joke about your existence and surroundings and you’ll see
Break your back for everyone and it will give you what you’ve wanted
But don’t ever ever lose yourself and throw away the key to the wings
Grow your wings and fly with the only meaning in your life, love…
-Jason L. Scarabin
High on the level of niceness beyond the go and get
Below the mester of jealous and hot hatred he ran
Lullabies to forget the replies of most of them and us
Why aren’t you here babe? I need you real bad
They aren’t in the midst of trying anything that would grow
To be hidden from view to be caught and trapped behind it
Blows and whistles will catch the drift of night and cats
Are you in harmonious love with your streets or not?
There’s no real way of wording this so let it go Tarzan!
–Jason L. Scarabin
The lonely tide has drifted inward to the sleeping heart twisted unknown
the old man grows young only for a moment then dies as he sings with trees
my flask has been filled with liquids you wouldn’t know how to spell
the bridges that lie across the desert of hope will be torn down again I say
The lonely soul needs your tears too because he has run out of them for now
the quantity of life lies only in the story of the quality of the music played
putting down the morals of the life never lived has setbacks you don’t want
the text and everything else just confuses the blessed baby’s mind anyway
cursed and beckoning the whistle of time end will be loudly burning in the morning
you know the old favorite hangout of Old Man Willard down on Gretchen’s lane
you remember Gretchen Bellows the one with the tatoo of the end of her stay here
leaving may not seem to far or fat but let me suggest to you it whistling with her
In finishing my tale to tell I am waiting for my vain dreams that meant nothing anyway
the music played on and I thought I had written the only song in heaven to cry my tears
but the fiddler spoke loudly to my organs that were clueless to what was happening to them
but I will tell you this: the heart responded with such elegant murmuring that I was floored.
-Jason L. Scarabin
Passages of tears in the thickness of good times
fun and frolic darkened by whimsical cries
oh God, what lies ahead into the future
fear of the unknown creeps around us
damsels and beer, beaches and palm leaves
watches and bracelets and hats and rings
scares from authority invisible to see
we’ve clouded our minds with distortion
distorting our minds with clouds
may sum up things better
crucifying ourselves has no place
but happens too often in the face of uncertainty
perhaps laughing, the bell ringer knows
in the end we’ll all be happy
the piper, too, goes on to write
he writes of the story yet to be told
–Jason Scarabin
Cold & exhilarated; I’m trying to free my mind. I’m trying to release or relieve stress. I’m choosing this time for the surety that I can open myself up without anyone else needing to be involved. It’s a great feeling just to be calm and relaxed yet tense. I’m tense because I know what close-minded people think of what I’m doing and the majority of people,I hate to admit,out there are close-minded. I can’t understand a whole lot but I love to learn. I love the feeling you get when you finally understand something you have never understood.
You only have one chance to make the most out of your life. Learn as much as you can. The main topic of study should be people because without them the entire plan would be for naught.