Nature

Nature

As the fire makes the forest ashes

An idea emerges

And time continues on

Nature has a funny way

Of making ideas

Rising like the phoenix

A thought drifts high above uor heads

Brilliance doesn't always come from us

But from the beauty surrounding

Nature

As the fire makes the forest ashes

Growth begins anew

One sprout

Green among grey

Refreshing

Like rain in the desert

Like fire on a glacier

Life will carry on

Categorizing

People who live poetry...
See the world in an artist's eyes
Are alone while amidst friends
Touch the pen, not the brush
Feel the pain hiding within beauty

People who don't like poetry
see the surface, and are satisfied
Find joy in all aspects of life
Can do the mundane and not complain
Love the world for what it is

-Jacob Martin

The World Between My Ears

I like writing where I am
On my own planet
That lives inside my head, and shows itself
As I travel through its chamber
Marveling at what lies within
Music whispers thruogh its halls
Strange beasts turn to look at me
I stare back in fascination
Each room its own continent
One a field of gymnasiums
Where I can watch my playground and childhood
Another an island, great beasts surrounding
My fears realized, miles-deep water only meters of sand
Another a forest, a hayride, a bonfire
Surrounded by friends, joy defined
And then the exit
Where I leave my head
Dumping it onto my paper
And return to the not-so-real world
Where I am forced to live

I Live Poetry

Poetry is a valve of mine
It sticks out the small of my back, waiting for a twist
Pressure builds and builds, and waits
A giant sitting on my shoulders, crushing my spirit
Until I sit and think, and the valve is opened
Poetry flows into my life, whether on a page, or in the world
Like a book I am opened as the world opens to me
The beauty of a rainy day, the sadness within a sunny field
Truth flows as a river through me, and I am gifted a ladle
To draw life

Wonderings

I do not understand
Why so many people were given voice boxes
Why pizzas need tiny tables
Why tofu is such a hit
But most of all, I don't understand
Why people are so blind
The world could be (and is) falling apart around them
And they could still find a way to complain
When life gives them lemons
They pull a sour face
And blame someone else
What I understand the most are rocks
Who sit on the ground
And let life happen
Who do not whine
And when the world changes
They change to fit its needs
Whether a tool, a table or a seat
Useful until the sands of time wear them away

Broken Pencil

The words flow out of me
Onto the page
Coming from my brain
Electric signals
Move down my spine
Across my back
To my arm
Arriving at my hand
Which moves so eloquently
Across the paper
Gushing line
After line
After line
After line
My pencil breaks
...
Kill my day

-Jacob Martin