Soliloquize

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I am lost

Between meaningless rhetoric

Of warped semantics,

Confusing mindless behavior

And senseless murmurings

As the definition of…

Love.

Entertainment.

Friendship.

Career.

Art.

Consumerism.

Reality.

News.

Stability.

Religion.

Conversations.

Trust.

Family.

Relationships.

Life.


 Olsfred James 2016©

Vinyl

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The creaks and cracks

Of her antique record player

Slowly chaperones the hollow echo

Of a dauntless verse.

With a natural ease,

The instruments amplify

And a tune chimes in

Stretching between halls

Invading every room

“If there's a cure for this
I don't want it
Don't want it
If there's a cure for this
I don't want it,

I don't want it”

The music vibrates her soul

Narrating her thoughts

Drifting softly

Recalling days gone by.

She hugs the air

Weaving her fingers together

Imagining being nestled at the waist

Humming silently.

As her playlist

Ushered the evening

Each song opened with

A quiet whirring

As the needle gently kissed the vinyl

And she continued.

I watched her

Endlessly in thought

Dreamily swaying away

To her musical tradition

Stirring blended aromas

As I awaited Sunday’s dinner.

 Olsfred James 2016©

Downhearted

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Up on melancholy hill

The beauty of this world 

Has gone awry,

Black and white colored rainbows 

Ache of sadness,

Wilted flowers

Bleed colors into muck

And the call of the wind

Is empty and hollow.

A funeral hymn prolongs

Without lyric

Without secession

An unending monotonous duration

Of a dismal melody,

With contorted voices

Inviting the uninvited,

Enticing the sorrowful

To fester and wallow

In a mournful song.

Here they lay

Resting in dismay

Above ground

While the stench of decaying flesh,

Strikes sharp

Rancid and sickening

Filling the air

And poisons the arid soil.

A caution sign for a tombstone

Hangs overhead is inscribed:

"This is where dreams come to die."

Olsfred James 2016©

80s

I’ve got a Trapper Keeper type of memory storage

Assorted childhood memories

Of metal lunch box days

Themed with my favorite cartoon character

And Floppy Disks were still a thing

When an alien made Speak and Spell popular

Filing to the theater to hear the reeling of the film strip projector.

Breakfast wasn’t as sweet if Mr. T or Gremlins weren’t on the cereal box

And Afternoons weren’t complete if Reading Rainbow

Or the Sesames Street was not on repeat.

Damn I miss the 80s.

Olsfred James 2016©

Ink

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I dipped my pen

In the black of your ink

And watched as my intrusion 

Erupted ripples 

Along your once tranquil mood

Such an intimate sumptuous moment

I felt you

Coiling around me

As my uncovered skin exhales.

Your essence

Wet and enticing

Slipping between secreted places

Delicately crest at my tip

Begging to be sprawled

Along these white unspoiled sheets

Neatly lined and in wait

Of my next entry 

Begging to be the words

Of my poetry.

Olsfred James 2016©

Marionette

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Puppet strings

Bounded by the wrist

Made to entertain

Made to obey his every command

Dressed up

With smeared make up

Plastered across her porcelain smile

In her master’s theater.

Her first time,

Inhibition was the obstacle

The indescribable force stopping her from being… his

Now, the reluctance is no more

Confusing lust – his ardent uncontrollable sexual appetite – for,

“The love he never gave”.

His every touch is infectious

Eating away at her innocence

With slithering words

Reminding her, she belonged to him.

His desires spill from her cracked exterior

Like blood from an open wound

As a broken lullaby strains in the background

She dances at his will

Touching herself

Resonating under the cool of night.

He breathes her in like air

Resisting the urge to blink

As she grips the ropes above her head

Flurrying in slow motion

Dangling her naked beauty

Twirling to his satisfaction.

Behold, the perfection in her imperfections.

Mind games within the flick of a finger

Twisting away at his dancing prey

Playing softly until he’s done

Then she is propped at the mantle

To be used at his convenience again.

Olsfred James 2016©

Pleonasm

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Ignoring the faint sounds

Echoing failure

Of past lovers,

My heart created an illusion

Of a tangible love

When our souls connected.

The perfect cadence

Between chaos and calm.

A symphony of euphoria

Wrapped in arms

Where the mind raced

And endless conversations followed

Creating countless versions of You and I

Lost under ink blue nights

As we count pulsing stars in the others eye.

However, as fate would have it

Somethings are not meant to be

Possibly we met too early

Not yet conscious of our ability

To articulate the incoherence

In wait at the depths of the abyss

To finally shape the ethereal

Language of love

Our potential was untapped

Prolonging the suffocation on pride

Too absorbed in ourselves

To finally be left with nothing

But the faint echo

Of yet another lover.

Olsfred James 2016©

Mannequin

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Draped in the day's mood,

Somewhere I surmise

Between plastic embraces

Of faceless expressions

Reflecting synthetic smiles

Of projected emotions,

That our brittle hearts

No longer beat for the other,

And this…

This, eerily beautiful sight

As our muted eyes

Confess candid testimonials

Of the lifeless love

Proven with each breath

We failed to sustain

Between the void in our words

And incomplete gestures…

This…

This, constant masquerade

Passed off for something more

For the sake of the unknowing bystander

Willing to buy into the fantasy

That they could have

A fraction of the pretense we pose

And display for the world

This…

This, is nothing more

Than a mannequin love.

Olsfred James 2016©

Atrophy

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The love of art

Is an unrequited love

It is forever unsatisfied

As I am soiled with attempts

To mimic creation

With the rib - my pen -

Forging life in the form of words

Toiling endlessly between

Deafening pauses of incomplete verses.

Trapped in my head

Begging to be exorcised

As paper taunts me

Amassing my many failures

Against me

Secretly hiding away thoughts unwritten.

Pen snaps against papers back

As my jeered frustration

Resigns my inspiration.

Seconds to minutes

Minutes to hours

And so on

And so forth

Yet the torture continues

Atrophy settles

Between the ridges of my palms

With erupting calluses

Thick and hard

The seamless flow

In my prose

Has deteriorated

Aged with every letter spent

Every emotion scribed

As I am forced to live

Vicariously through the muse of others

Yet these words do not appease me

Because these lines are not mine

And I have become

The one forever unsatisfied

For stifling my art

For killing my creativity.

The love of art

Is an unrequited love

But it will forever be my true love.

Olsfred James 2016©

Supermoon

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The night whispers,

In quiet breaths

Of a seducing trance

Summoning shadows

From diurnal slumber.

Roused from their resting place

By chanting phantoms

Echoing between the silence.

The night lit silhouettes

Of motionless designs

Weave varying scenes

Forming thick complex events

Empassion dreams into the air.

The gleaming moon

With lasers of silver

Fills the void of darkness

Alluring the spectral and earthly alike

To kiss upon the mystic skies.

There's solace in the unknown

Eerily comfort that we're not alone

Stared upon by the twinkle of night

Or unseen plains of our existence.

Olsfred James 2016©

Futurity

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Between failing vision,
An ashened smile
Catches my eye
Only to witness my
Aged reflection.
Pruned skin
Folding against itself
With scraggly fingers
Of secreted tales 
And times endurance.
The tenderfoot days 
Have long since met their end
Long since set 
With the afternoon's sun.
Walking on three legs
First with a stomp
Then a shuffle 
Each time with a weary grunt
To get a round.
Stumbling through the days
With restless nights
Recounting memories as sheep
Of a time and place
Only this heart understands
Consumed by the loneliness
Dwelling in the dark
Awaiting my final sleep.

Olsfred James 2016©

Oaken

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The cold silent breeze

Testimonial of our love

Now shrouded in darkness.

The bitter moon hides

Its silver beams

Behind clouds of shadows

Vowing not to interfere.

Silence fills the air 

As my solitude whispers

An assurance of peace,

A calm of discord

Quiet in slumber

On the quiet night 

When you slipped away

Between the fainting spark

Of the piercing lightning.

Yet, where is this peace

Or satisfaction for my arid soul?

I watched with a heavy heart

As my teardrops seeped into

Hopeless oblivion

The daunting void of the revelation

Unable to mend broken pieces

Of the remaining remnants

Guised as us.

Olsfred James 2016©

Tuck

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There's something in the way
Words fell to my ear,
Something like poetry,
In harmonized tones
Subtly whispering
Fanciful possibilities
Of perpetual bliss
In this silent conversation
Somehow occurring,
I reach for her
Between fainting guises
Of incoherent murmurs
And thoughtless confessions,
As she trails along
The foremost regions
Of my imaginations intent
In oblivious nuances
As I am stuck here,
Held captive in her gaze.


Olsfred James 2016©

Watcher

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Through the veil
During her lonely nights
Accompanied only by a wine induced desire
I watched her.
As the water slipped across her skin
Licking her flesh,
Gliding along with an experienced touch
Dripping like fresh paint
At the curves of her body,
I watch her.
Braille erupts at the nape of her neck
Canvassing impressions along her back,
My fingers imaginarily read every symbol
Scrolling across every word
Seduced by every sentence.
I crave you
My lips crave you
I thirst for your passion
Long for the thrill
The thrill in the suspense of your kiss
To be coiled in arms
As our bodies fold unto themselves
And explode from our cocoon
In euphoria.
Through the veil
I am not seen
I am not heard
And my presence goes unnoticed,
But as your hands unlock
The secrets of your mind
I wonder…
Does your fingers sign my name
Between your thighs?
Are your inaudible moans
A declaration of our unprofessed love?
I must know
Do I travel the plains of your imaginations?

Olsfred James 2016©

Dedication

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Everyday is a battle within
Between who I am
And who I want to be.
I'm scared.
Scared of losing control
And becoming everything I hate
Becoming my father
My abuser
Or every negative definition 
Society has pinned on me
Suffering in silence
As you presume I am guilty
Or presume I am wrong
Flashing that crooked smile
I never got the chance to perfect as a child
And everyone thinks…
He seems unbothered in his ways
He doesn't care
Seriously?
I've worn this mask for so long
I've forgotten what I look like
Afraid to give in to that dark side
To watch everything slip away
Locked in my mind
Never fighting back…
You notice a lot when distance 
Finds a way between people
It's a chance to step away
Assess the damage
With objective eyes
And determine the next course of action.
I try to believe in karma
Leave it to the universe
Stay clear of negativity
Decline my minds invitation
To mischief and vengeance.
Yet…
I want you to understand
Deep down behind my nonchalance
About everything
I truly want each and every one of you 
To suffer.
Suffer in the most unimaginable way
Then impaled and propped 
For the world to see.
I feel this heat inside
From all this hate flowing through me
It fucking eats me up inside
Chips away at what I truly want to say 
When I resort to "It's okay"
Again flashing that stupid fucking smile.
If only I was able to purge…
All this anger
All this hate
All the niceties
Just for one day
When no one would be the wiser
Just to watch you bleed!
But I can't…
Not without derailing 
Your cosmic punishment to come
To finally pay penance.
So everyday continues as a battle
Between who I am
And who I want to be
Free.

Olsfred James 2016©

Reprieve

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We all have our demons
Mine linger
And loom
In the form of faceless expressions
Wondering and curious eyes
Fighting back their questions.
"I heard about what happened…"
.
.
.
(Seems to be the opening of the discussion)
Yea you did?
So did I
I was there…
Chained from the wrist to the feet.
Like an animal in defeat
Shuffled into a caged
An unwanted addition to an already crowded space
The lingering smell of urine and vomit
Could not mask the the hopelessness of the situation
Looking on 

As life carried on
Unconcerned that you were stuck.
Quicksand.
The more you fight the deeper you sank.
Surrounded by somber tales
Of who's and why's
These cold walls listened keenly
Somehow willing these confessions
From residents and visitors alike
I had no stories to share
My mind was too unsure that I was really here
Perplexed by the situation
In denial that this was reality
And I would wake up in the comfort of my bed
My bed…
I had none but the welcoming arms
Of the concrete floor -
As cold as the embrace was

I laid there

Staring at the rotted ceiling

Spatter dashed walls

Counting how many times the word "Fuck"

Was used as a punctuation mark in the on going stories

Shared by my cellmates.

Maybe sleep would bring dreams better than reality
Dreams…
Dreams…
Restless and weary
Cold and alone
What dreams…
My mind concocted nightmarish thoughts
Keeping me awake
Maybe it was the walls punishing me
Punishing me for not paying my right of passage.
The chafed therapist urged me on
Promised to keep my secrets

Then finally I broke
As I recalled the circumstances of my being here
Until bit by bit he was satisfied
The slowly bit by bit granted me sleep…
.
.
.
"So tell me, what about my life you would like to know that in some way shape or form will benefit you other than to satisfy your curiosity or provide new insight for gossip material?"
"Ah… I just wanted to know if you're okay"
"Oh... Yea I'm good"

Olsfred James 2016©

Nimbostratus

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Layered ripples
Of nomadic shades
Drifting across the sky
Stirs daydreams. 
Vivid thoughts of you
Create tangible imaginings
Of my hands upon your face
Caressing your cheeks
Trailing fingertips
Between mounds erupting on your skin
You shiver at the pleasures of my touch
Smiling at me in satisfaction
With the ease of dawn,
Reaching corners
With brighten sun rays, 
Beaming in my direction.
I've longed to be held
In the embrace of your gaze
Seen only by you
When the world surrenders existence
Remaining yours in this instance
Until layered ripples
Turn from white to grey
And memories of tomorrow
Wash away.

Olsfred James 2016©

#ForgiveMe

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I ran. Ran as fast as my legs could carry. Ran with blurred vision from teary eyes. Further and further with each step. Stomping on crumbled expectations and broken dreams, I ran. My legs begged for rest but my mind begged for escape. 

The watching moon was the only witness of my departure. The only friend on this journey. Trailing me between the dangling trees. Pale eyes fixated on me. He knew this was the right thing to do, lighting my way when unsure of my path then hiding me in his shadow to move unseen.

Deeper into the night away from the comfort of light, deeper into the melancholy of the darkness, I ran. Passed the familiarity of my past to the unknown of my future. I ran.

My heart pounded ferociously within the walls of my chest. Dipped and skipped. Cried in pain. Cried from the betrayal. Threatened to give up. Collapse and stop if my exploits did not halt. I wanted to make it better. I needed to make it better. So I ignored its cry, ignored its pain.

I am doing this for you. Forgive me. Forgive me. My mind knows better than to trust frivolous notions of love. You are beautifully passionate with every beat but blind that every "her" you meet is a kindred spirit. So I must protect you. One day when you have calmed and all of this is behind us, you will know I did this for you - my heart.

Olsfred James 2016©

Se•le•no•tro•pism

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I am jealous of the moon,
Jealous of the way
He kisses your skin
Under his pale light
Claiming you as its own.
You remain poised
And held in his gaze
Unconcerned with passing time
Lost somewhere deep in thought
Too far to reach.
Among shades of black
The grandeur that is you
Effortlessly glows
Among the twinkle of night.
Selflessly
Hopelessly
I wish upon you,
I wish upon you to turn away
Turn away from his embrace
And deny his touch
Denounce his rights
To be the reason you shine
And bid me the honor
Of a conversation once more.
Silly of me ignorant in my pride
Unable to understand
The moon chose you
To spread the light of the sun
As you walk among man.

Olsfred James 2016©

Conformity

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Against the sea of conformity

I battle waves bent on my arts demise

The roar of the ocean

Tossing between jagged rocks

Curls into tides of social influence 

Raging from every side

Crashing together in judgmental remarks

I labor the storm until my inspiration comes

Consistent in my endeavor 

Watching as the blurring foam transforms

From a towering blue wonder of negativity

To gently settle, as I wash upon the shores

Of my unscathed conviction .

Olsfred James 2016©

Surly

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As my name leaves her lips

Her voice sends ripples

Across the plains of time 

Traveling unabated

Rousing the smallest figment

Of imagination

Stirring dormant memories

Of a life unlived

Of this loveless lover

Awaiting response to her call.

I must resist

Resist the instinct to answer

The desire to be quelled 

By all she offers

To taste the longing in her lips

The familiarity in her touch

I must fight from my core

The hopelessness to be found

To be the prey to her hunger

The victim to her lust

She is an untamed fire

Wild and free

Yet cruel and impartial

Burning all asunder

I once lived amongst her flames

Endured the heat of her passion

Until, ultimately my use

Had reached its expiration

Then left for dead

With the trophies she claimed

Shall I run?

Seek refuge in the unknown

Hide these moments

Deep within fissures of my past

Or shall I return to her den once more?

I shuffle between thoughts

As my name leaves her lips

And lingering echoes

Await a response.

 Olsfred James 2016©

Stardust

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We are all just, stardust…

Combined particles
From stellar winds sweeping
Across the boundless galaxy,
Minute parts of a greater whole
Elements of elements
Remnants of cosmic design
Residue of a supernova's sacrifice
Collapsed into the frailty of this being
This alien form we call human
Connected we are
At a level thicker than blood 
Deeper than our failing humanity

So you see…

We are all just stardust.

 Olsfred James 2016©