Friday, January 12, 2024

Four Poems by J.J Campbell

Creatures of Mercy


these lost desolate angels


creatures of mercy sent to kill 

off what little life i still have 

to live


i never wanted to be famous 

or popular


but i also never wanted to feel 

used and alone


i was born with the wrong spoon 

in my mouth to have a say in any 

of this shit


so, go work in a factory


bitch about the money


marry some fool that believes in love


have two kids for the tax breaks


find that perfect home in the suburbs 

and become a fucking statistic


or keep thinking those poems you write

mean something to someone other than 



either way, you will learn the hard way that 

not every fucking soul gets to be remembered 

or thought of kindly


the quicker you pick that up, the sooner you 

can actually figure out that there is nothing 

here you should ever give two shits about


go seek out the truth and be disappointed 

that no one has any clue any longer that 

such a thing even exists



All the While Sharpening the Knives


the subtle way she walks 

into a room


takes you by surprise


imposing yet beautiful


you can’t imagine anything

but her from now on


elusive, hard to figure out

but she becomes the muse


the only one to get your jokes


the only one that listens to 

your despairs


all the while sharpening the 

knives because you never 

know when they are needed


she doesn’t forget anything

but only remembers what 

she wants


every male that has ever said 

something stupid to someone 

they love knows what that 



i think the muse knows 

i love her


i’m just not sure she’s 

at the point where it 

means something 

to her



All the Signs are There


riding the waves of pain


like holding the sharpest knife 

you can find in your teeth


she touches your hand and you feel 

a fire you haven’t felt in thirty years


and at the oddest times


life will remind you


the only way out is to die


the left hip is bad, the back is worse

you’re starting to forget the simple 



all the signs are there


so is the shotgun in the corner and 

all the bottles that still need to be 

finished off


none of the dreams ever come true 

like you thought they would


still not smart enough to just accept 

the wins


perfection is for the perfect ones


no one has ever mistaken you for that


she told you she loves you


you said it back as quickly as you could


that’s a start



As Cheap as Wine


the neon gods start laughing


you ever see a paisley rainbow


all the butterflies dancing 

on the same beat


i can recall the days where the 

drugs were as cheap as wine


of course, none of it ever 

lasted long


my daydreams have become 

purple nightmares where 

my demons start to pity me

and think they no longer have 

any use of my dysfunction


i’ve started another suicide 

note, just in case


the calm before the storm 

never comes anymore


the constant violence

of this life


as i ache myself to sleep 

each night


i’m too old for this shit


scribbling down words

watching it all fade to a 

dying blood on the page


of course, this could be 

the gin talking

Bio: 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 Synchronized Chaos, Misfit Magazine, Disturb the Universe Magazine, Dumpster Fire Press and Lothlorien Poetry Journal. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, Evil Delights

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