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 

yourself

 

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 

means

 

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 

things

 

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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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 want...