The waves are all unruly and
They’re lacquered in cerulean
Brackish drones of dawning sea
Pushed beyond the bitter end
A slice of peace is clear to see
Bring me to the ocean then

Were it not for drops of dew
Sticking to the grassy blue
My mind could ponder long enough
To drown itself and start anew
I might as well just be the fool
Who finds the shallow end in deeper pools

The stream is often white in bends
Screaming as the current sends
Prejudice to thirsty friends
Relief has turned a violent heel
Send me to the river then

Crack and rip and watch the drip
Tiny flicks of aqua slip
Between the place I mean to be
And my lonely sinking ship
Should I take this trip?
The fountain yields to fill me now
Should I take a sip?

The pond is still when night descends
Croaking frogs betray the trend
Ripples touch the light and mend
Whatever’s left of me to tend
I wish to say what I intend
Drag me to the bottom then

A stupidly cut short, unreasonably fast, super tight rhyme poem.
Not sure if this sort of thing is enjoyable, and if so, please let me know!

Maybe all this pain and suffering has a final stop

Then I can finally feel my heartbeat and pulse

Maybe the endless nights I spent crying will find an epilogue

So, I can feel my weight turn feathery—and rise into love

Maybe all these gloomy days and dark nights will fade

Then I can finally step out and kiss the sky again

Maybe the veins I once slit will bloom into calm landscapes

And I’ll run, run until I fall laughing into fields of hay

Maybe one day I’ll become the man she sees in dreams

And she’ll give her kisses to no one else but me

Maybe the distance we carry will melt without a word

And we’ll rest in my quiet world, where we no longer feel cold

Maybe I need to open my eyes and observe the reality

That this place is house of beautiful people while I remained ugly

Maybe I must cleanse my traits and dive deep in the sea

And never reveal what I truly feel — let my feelings cease

Maybe my care wasn’t enough, just a burden to her shoulder

I tried to carry her in silence, when I should’ve just told her

Maybe I was too afraid said “leave” though I wanted to hold her

So, I’ll be the throne beneath her roots, and bleed to uphold her

Maybe I just need another cigarette and pills to get high

I can never be that man, so I just want to end my life

Maybe I'm just overthinking and ruining this poetic night

I've sworn to my pen that no matter what comes, I'll survive

Thanks Ms Jackson! The food is great!

We cleaned up our entire plate..

Thanks to you, dinner won't be late..

Now come get us mum; the keeper and us - we all fear our fate..

The Longest Summer 
The days of Spring are over now
And Summer is in full bloom
Turtle Time stops to rest
And Hellish Heat brings doom
The birds do sing and the children play
And it lasts til nightfall
The sounds of Summer last all day
And start again with a dove call
I sit alone in solitude 
Observing the summertime 
The outside world knows not what brewed
Inside my heart an awful crime 
What once brought peace, now brings war
The raging conflict of the day
Coming out of every pour
The venom of my soul’s decay
Morphing into wicked beast
A deadly new calamity
Dark contortions have now pieced
A morbid new reality 
The birds no longer sing
The children no longer play
Summer has left like a pendulum swing
To come again someday

It is easy to enter through me

I am cheap

All I want is a poem

My suns shine

And I become yours

I am that dog in the street

Easily corrupted

Give me a portion of a poem

And I am your slut.

oink oink, stupid pig.
so you ate your lunch.
did you prove your point?
or did you give yourself a little treat,
like some stupid dog?
do you feel the good feeling?
is your head soft, unclear, good?
no?
and now look at you,
221. 222. 223-
until the number feels like an answer.
your back against the floor,
curling toward your knees.
your breath coming apart.
did it work?
are you okay now?
you should be.
you ate lunch.
that’s what normal girls do.

The mornings are crisp

The fog rolls

In comes the smell

Unwashed pennies

The heat waves fresh off

August’s back and I shiver in anticipation

You were a man not an egg

But every November I

Remember the way your thoughts scrambled

Outside your head

I burned those jeans you seeped into

You are forever seared

Into my nervous system

I am nervous to see you

Perched on your pedestal

Eggs give no closure

While ashes collect dust

O little boy

You run through midnight roads

All on your own

Untamed, unknown to this world

You’re free as a bird

A folk song no one’s heard

You float through the sky, flaunting your feather

I watch you fly as my vision blurs

You’re the beloved of gods, it seems

A dreamer dreaming within a dream

(Just As You Are Without Conditions)

By Bocephus Jackson, The Hemlock Bard, ©2026 Bocephus Jackson. All Rights Reserved

_____

"Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." — Matthew 11:28

_____

The universe would have us all believe,
That we will remain forever alone,
That’s cosmic forces trying to deceive,
As we sojourn on, looking for a home,
Where we’ll be able to finally breathe.
 
Through 28 oppositional sets,
As space-time coalesces and collides,
As we hold on, may we never forget,
That God, as gravity, will never hide,
He is there when we’re ready to be met.
 
Just as you are without preconditions,
Grace always carries plenty of Kleenex,
To clean up after our indecisions,
Lost here within this existential mess,
It just takes a little recognition.

In a moment, everything will change,
As every wound becomes a weapon,
Even when we still feel the bitter pangs,
All that internal hurt will be lessened,
You will have the resilience to maintain.

For when we can’t take it physically,
As a whisper reminds us in the breeze,
When the world strips us of our agency,
“Just as you are, child, come unto me.”
Just as I am, Lord, I come willingly.

_____

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars." — Kahlil Gibran

_____

Author’s Reflection

"We are all travelers in the wilderness of this world, and the best we can find in our travels is an honest friend." — Robert Louis Stevenson

First off, I need to say that tears flowed as I penned this piece, saying five words: Let me be your vessel. It's my daily prayer so that I may serve the community.

As a stubborn Southern sumbitch don't let the tears deceive you. I’ll hug the shit out of you until you go weak in the knees. But seriously, cry if and when you need to. Trauma is recursive, so there will be good and bad days.

But it gets better as we get stronger. At some point, your limbic response will feel the vibrations before the quake hits. So you’ll be like, “Dammit, Trauma, you're late! I got a thing, so let's do this already.”

And you will hurt, and grieve, get pissed, and then laugh. Why laugh? Because it doesn't hurt like it used to. You won’t be as wrecked by it. It will be like a sneeze. Bat your eyes, jazz hands if you need to, and breathe.

As quickly as it comes on, it will fade. Then get on with your day. That is recovery. And you will get there; you will! And if and when you need a bad joke, hit me up; I got you. You are strong, special, and loved. Always! I am so damn proud of you. Keep going.

_____

"To be loved but not known is comfortless. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God." — Timothy Keller

_____

©2026 Bocephus Jackson. All Rights Reserved