Jake Shaw's Blog, page 10

Feeling of Wander

It’s true
That when you set out
With no objective
You quickly get one

It strikes you like
The sun strikes your face
At a magnified degree
To wake you up

On certain mornings

You step out and breathe the air
And suddenly you’re not without care
But you can do as you
So desire

Friends down the block
In parts you wouldn’t
Be able to safely walk
Off of Del Rosa

Home by another name

Church Street and Buckeye
In the shadow of an arrowhead

It’s pointing you to
The next graspable goal:

“Here”

With you...

Miasma

Bad air hangs over Olympia.

Be it from the lake,
the waterfront,
the alleys,
uptown,
or on the hill
where law claims capitol.

There lives a wraith somewhere.

It manifests to infect newbloods
with its promise of risk, how it
renders silent the cacophonous mist
that is each participant in the
mysticism and illusion of this
such wonderous existence.

The spirit of the city.

How free it flies.
How it wears no guise.
How it clouds and drowns
the weak exposed to it.
How it galvanizes and uplifts
the...

Lawbreaker

“Hey gravity,
fuck you.”

Parting Gift

Unearthing
Crow skulls
From
Near dark depths
Of
Synchonous

Frequencies emanating
Through the waves
Of waterfalls

Where the cold
Of liquid crawling
Down the cliffside
Terminates in
Navy blue and bright white

Hoping

I’ve been
Flipping through
My notebook
Hoping that

I’ll come across
Cute notes you’ve
Left behind for
Me but blank pages

Are all I
Come across
So forlorn
So hopelessly

My Lungs are Weak

Sputtering, coughing,
Just let go already
Don’t let me keep
Seeming dramatic

Unlockjaw

Jaw locked
Pops
Can hear the
Silt on the bone
Grinding with
Each movement

Closure

I shut the door on your foot
When you left it open
Honestly, I hope
I broke a toe or two
While I was at it

I was never sorry

But I know you will be
As you limp into obscurity

And don’t try to reach back
Under the door’s narrow crack
Because
I’ll just break your fingers, too

Hope it was worth every little thing
Thanks for making the mistake
Of leaving it open with no
Closure and
Leaving it there for me to gain
Leaving you in more pain

Than you would have ever
Inflicted upon me

The Fall

Pine needles
Lying dead on the ground
Aren’t forlorn
For the loss of themselves

Are the buds next spring
Harboring the same souls
As those decaying into
Dry spears down below?

Is this why
They do not fear the fall?

Mirrorless Cage – Journal 7/23/18

It’s been a while since I wrote the last journal. Almost 20 days or so, and the change of winds is palpable even on the website now for Year V’s ramp up. It’s creeping deep into my bones and moving my flesh above those.

Year V is upon us, and it feels like I’m walking through a door to a second chance at what the last five years have meant. Things are much different now. Down to the tiniest little detail. Doing new kinds of things. Listening to new types of stuff. Making new kinds of art.

All...