Assorted poems (2025-2026)

Below are select poems from the past year. Time flies, and before you know it, the overwhelming feelings of days past are so distant they feel surreal. Revisiting these old words is a good reminder that everything comes to pass. I don't usually write structured or styled poems. Most of the following are just short strings of funny words that mean something quite dear to me, and may resonate with you.

I didn't find these to be of a particular quality to render their own post. I've bolded dates of what I especially like. Please enjoy this short collection.

---

02-08-2025 - 1

I hope they donate my organs.

Just so the last bit of love I gave

wasn't to myself.

---

02-08-2025 - 2

Which way are you running,

away from or toward?

Can't you just sit for a while,

and watch how the world changes

in your presence?

Does the wind at your ears

offer some form of comfort?

Does the blurriness of your past

offer some form of respite?

Does each step in the sand

offer some proof of life?

Does each memory you forget

offer some space restored?

---

02-08-2025 - 3

It is strange to be seen so little,

and yet known so well.

Stranger still to be seen so abundantly,

yet known by none.

---

02-08-2025 - 4

Sitting in my own wake;

the same force that stays my hand

keeps me in possession of it.

---

20-09-2025

The endlessly deep oceans

I used to gaze longingly into

are now the sole object

of my desire to forget.

I fear my grief lives alone.

---

10-11-2025

If only for a gust of wind

the ground holds me still.

With a shrill scream

the birds sing in unison;

ore wrapped in ore,

staring down like a beast.

One crack of lightning,

birds and leaves flee,

I open my third eye.

---

24-11-2025

From time to time,

I take my glasses off

so I can see more clearly:

the watercolor sky,

the windswept trail.

The world begins to coalesce,

trees breathe with me,

birds make an orchestra.

Among them my footsteps drum,

each phrase once and done.

I'll not get my sight back

and not once more, nevermore

we will breathe the same joy

in that union with nature.

I feel so close a part,

each sensation piece of the whole

but never quite complete.

In what endless blooms I've seen,

a mere year in a century.

Each petal fallen not a death

but a proof of life lived.

How fortunate should I be,

to see how the petals follow me.

---

22-12-2025 - 1

A time will come

and be gone, without witness,

where the joys paving each day

are lived in months.

The march onward

doesn't bother your feet anymore,

and movement becomes

the fading of the five o'clock light.

The fiery leaves

that once basked in morning sunlight,

have blown far away.

There I'll sit watching

as my world cycles anew.

I am afraid of the shifting snowdrifts,

they remind me of my stagnation at home.

To stay in motion:

I sprint, I swim, I fly,

all to see my tail ahead

and the myriad paths

he chose not to take.

---

22-12-2025 - 2

I see the trees.

They shed, grow, and strengthen

in constant renewal.

They remain motionless,

hopelessly reaching for the stars.

I wonder if they look at the earth

to see their children,

dancing in the shade.

I imagine they laugh

when brushing branches

and cry when saplings don't take.

Do worldly things ground them?

Or do they yearn for the moon?

I wonder if they remember

the rings of transformation

or feel the cracking of bark,

the shedding of time.

---

16-02-2026

I hold ghosts in my breast pocket.

I feel enveloped,

I feel warm.

I feel melancholy,

seeing how they dance

around each artery.

They knock on these walls.

I'll always listen.

---

18-05-2026

The flowers have passed bloom.

The fruit comes bountiful forth.

No illusion of self,

the reality of being.

This menagerie makes me,

I will continue to be.

And forevermore

I will never be the same.

I will always be an approximation.

Only wishing to escape all definitions.

To be in the sun is to feel warmth,

to feel is to live is to suffer is to feel,

to feel is to breathe,

to each breath endless beauty.

To feel only so few,

to hold myself warmly

in once a cold place.

This room I've made.

---

06-07-2026

I recall the day

the cold whistled over

our frosted brows,

our shared smile

warmth enough

in February cold.

Drifting around ourselves,

Dancing in the midst

of growing uncertainty

the ice became concrete.

There lay your eyes;

I never knew a color

so warm as blue

nor a space as great

between fingertips.

Three words bridge the gap,

three words burnt it.

The best endings

are certain of reunion;

finality brands us helpless

but gifts us closure.

Abruptness grants romanticism,

but stunts healing.

The most successful effort

is often the quietest.

How I wish I knew sooner,

how the strand slipped away.

Every wish made

an action lost;

every past mistake,

a future cost.

How cruel my mind must be

to recall what once brought joy;

the hop-skip in your step,

our crash together

after too long apart,

the constellations in your eyes,

talks of nothing, my everything,

how we melted in unison

becoming each other,

your smile my hearth.

How cruel my mind must be

wishing to forget what once made me whole.

---

Thank you for reading.

With love,

J