Jake Shaw's Blog, page 84
March 3, 2017
Lungs
Maybe this is the last one
Collapsed, inflamed,
Choked, drowned
So many times my
Vents have been
Mixed with malady
Courted by infection
Keep breathing, I’m told
Deep breaths, they say
In… and out through the nose
Not as easy when you’re
Not getting enough air
When they’re sunk
Or punctured
How many times have
My lungs been injured?
Maybe this time will
Finally
Be the
Last one…
Filed under: January Era (III)
March 2, 2017
Aggression
I am immortal
Not because I can’t suffer
Death
But because I am not
Fearful
Of the beyondest pale
Of
My road to
Hell
For when I do finally
Die
I intend to break the
Body
Of the reaper himself
I am immortal
Not because I cannot
Be slain
But because I am
A muderer of murder
An apocalypse
Inapoplectic
Because I welcome
The inevitable
Sight into doom
Where my aggression
Must rise
And adrenaline flow
Welcome to the
Final mystery
Yet when I get there
And solve it
It won’t be as polite
Of a throe
Fil...
March 1, 2017
Dance of the Doom Dirge
It’s a scary shadow
Walking determinedly
Down a dark hallway
With dim backlights
His terrifying mind
Gears are visibly
Twisting, thinking
Gears are churning
Through the black
Slag of his intent
In his skull
This horrifyingly
Capable man
Black clad
Every heavy step
On the ground
Makes it kneel
As he passes
Stone hot drive
Of a thirsty presence
Treated as a
Dark prince
The seems to reveal itself
As his minion
As he dirges
Through the halls
Beat of steps
Like he’ll steal
Your soul
And a monstrou...
Honorable
Two knights stood in the center of a burning village. The raid had taken place, and the defenses were overwhelmed. Somehow, when the attacking force moved on, one knight from those numbers had remained. That knight had yellow paint on his helmet. The other knight had no paint on his armor. He belonged to no army, as he was a man of the people who once lived here in the village.
The two held their longswords pointed at each other, fifteen feet from each other. They circled each other savagely...
February 28, 2017
Advencere (Unadulterated)
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Oh, boy. Where to begin with this one! I suppose for those of you who aren’t me I should probably translate my shitty handwriting:
“If I was deserted on a island I would go fishen’. If there were no fish, i’d serch for cocanuts. If there were no cocanuts, I guess i’d just die. But instead i’d advencere!”
First of all, I’m glad I had the nerve enough to decide to put twang on “fishen'” with that apostrophe to indicate an accent. The fuck was that about?
Secondly, I’m gonna get real petty. Cha...
Burning Men
The ritual involved
A mosh pit with
People shaking
In waves
Energy so high
You couldn’t anchor
A single person to
Stop the crowd
Autonomous in purpose
To swell and move
Like an ocean current
Of glowsticks and paint
Some sort of ancient
Ritual revived itself
Modern tribes moving
And shaking
Filed under: January Era (III)
February 27, 2017
Art
I can make you hurt like I do
If I really wanted to
Some things aren’t worth
Going down with the ship
Lost on the seas
Drifting for years
Seems like everyone’s hurt
Already
I want to be a pianist and a painter
Passing by them on the waves
No one wants to climb aboard
Even though I’m always inviting
I paint the same thing everyday
And never tire of the waves
Tumult and turbulent
I ride atop it
So many canvases of blue
And sunrises and sets
Lay scattered on deck
And in the cabins
No one wants t...
