Since a Letter to the Self cannot be Fair;

Since a Letter to the Self cannot be Fair.
_________________

This I swear:
A letter to the self
cannot be fair!
nor can one make
judgements
without an Opposing
world to judge!
Thus Happiness
knows NOTHING!

(until it meets
DESPAIR.)

Since letters to the self
cannot be fair,
(and therefore ring untrue)
I'm addressing this to YOU.
WHO? ( you wonder.)

To you,
who wonders;
how,...and what...
and WHO you ARE!
TO you...who answers
all questions with
questions, which may
eventually lead
to half- answers!

To YOU....
(A secretly dreaming
 midnight star.)
To anyone:
(who cannot see the
 fairness in a
letter to Oneself.)

J.Stephen.H

Deliriously Sane Enough. (to realize.)

Deliriously sane enough to Realize.
____________________

Deliriously sane enough
to realize...
(just how insane everything is.)
What it's like;...
(trying to anticipate The
End...when falling down
a Great Abyss.)
Preferably Invisible;...
(who afterall is more capable
of seeing than those Unseen??)
and for this Reason
I AM
Indispensible!

Deliriously Sane Enough...
to Realize!
(It's likely all A Dream.)

J.Stephen.H

Ask A Shadow

Ask a Shadow
______________

I ask my Shadow who he wants
to be today; (his mood often determines
our choice of Face.)
The King of Fools kneeling on some dusty
Castle Floor,
looking at A Ghost now sitting upon
his Once Great Throne?
(or that Little Boy lost and wandering
through the treacherous woods Alone.)

Talking to such an entity hardly indicates
insanity; since people will often converse
with their Shadows, yet choose to see them
in a better Light...
it is simply my Trust in Him which
me Crazy!
( a junkie suffering from the strangest
addiction to Soul Corrupting Parasites.)

But if truth is Blind,
then I am grateful to see
these lies so crystal clear!;...
and have found most are
lying when they say that truth is not
a thing to Fear!
and of course my Shadow laughs at
these notions...
(from a grave that remains my Souls
Dark Mirror.)

j.stephen.h

(give a shadow a cookie...and he wants a cup of soul.)

Had I only Awakened.

Had I only awakened
________________

I had a dream last night that I was dead,
and in my absence the world became a
perfect place without flaw;
there was a bone crunching sensation
 in my head.
(which ended just below the jaw.)

You were there my love,..
the only soul left willing to chance
imperfection for a kiss that meant
Nothing, yet made you feel like Everything;
There with a smile, and words of encouragement.
(to soften the sting I felt while dying.)

No pity remained in my Heart in Death,..
since I had spent a lifetime pitying
with each drawn breath;..
yet now (and then) I should confess
to knowing the greatest weight of Sorrow!
for the life I could have lived tomorrow.
(had I only awakened.)

J.Stephen.H

The Fruit of Madness

The fruit of Madness.
__________________

My Love is not the
Fruit of Fools,...
nor does it bear any
genuine Wisdom;..
or occur by Choice,...
it is the impatience of
a petulant child
angry at the World.
(for ignoring His Voice.)

A Hungry Animal
in A Cage;...
chewing off its own leg,
while deluded by the
false belief  it's
loss brings Freedom
from restraint.

This is My Curse;...
Realizing what I want,
yet remaining incapable
of finding content in knowing
I had Everything Needed;...

A verbal Fist smashing into
the face of an Angel;
revealing Cruel Smiles,
and wretched Laughter,
as Dark Dogs
revel in the presence
of Crimson Tears!

(and relish the stench
of Mortal Fear.)

This is My LOVE;...
and My LOVE is the
FRUIT of MADNESS....
(which even the maddest
will not Admit to.)

J.Stephen.H

A World without You.

A World Without You.
______________

A World without you is not
a world,...but rather the most
terrifying nightmare of
All;..
A Blank dream,..
of emptiness beyond imagining.
I've been there before,
and I Am there now...
(because you are gone.)

Beyond the Joys of existence,
yet swallowed up by every
grim experience.

I created this World,
( which is not a world)
putting forth all of my
anger, rage...and harsh
criticism into its construction.
therefore I Die here, every second...
killed by memories of Better Moments
that my weak mind could not honor, or
live up to.

You were that World;
A Beautiful Dream born
to Grace everything fortunate...
(The world I Killed with A Secret.)

J.Stephen.H

30 and counting. (but whos counting?)

30 and counting. (but who's counting?)
_____________________

30 years of living death and counting,...
but whos' counting?
not I!
(said the sheep destined to die.)
nor We!
(replied the fleas, who lived as
memories upon that sheep.)
30 more seconds often seems utterly
unbearable, and (considering the jestering
nature of this universe) for that very reason
I'll likely live an eternity of lives perpetually
trying to rid myself of FLEAS;
One thought in a mind of infinite thoughts,
thinking;..
(don't ever count on anything.)

J.Stephen.H

this probably comes off as a bit :17-year old goth girl about to play razorblade roulettes over
her break up with Kount Chocula; but that wasn't the intent; so if it happens to seem that way,
good; (i wasnt counting on that either.)

Some Random Edge of the World Shit.

Some Random,
edge of the world shit;..
Help!...I've fallen, but
can't get Down!
Stay,
Push away;
unawake
(yet here)
get back!!
(unclear)
Spirits near!
(beckoning I follow.)
Hollow/ Full
(simultaneously)
of myself;
or Cruel...
with a secret
I tell fools and
Leeches!
(since the point was
Never to Keep
it.)
Entranced,
by Black
Romance;
a story of
love Abused!
Her broken
Dance...
My Heartless
Muse;..
I watch, as
she flirts
chaotically
with chance!
and We LOSE;
(or wake up
sore and bruised.)

J.S.H

Aphorisms in the Key of Noose.

Aphorisms in The Key Of Noose.
___________________________

Any tie that binds,
will most often become
the Noose which Hangs;
An Apology stated with cold intent..
to injure.. either pride, or Spirit.
(yet both  suffer the same
fate as any would be apologist.)

Not always of the blood,...
but always 

leading to thoughts
(or acts) of bloodshed;..

these bleak

rages which suffocate
A

 Mind, 

and put an end 

to

such things as fickle 

Hopes,
and dreams!

Any tie which Binds is 

the slowest
suicide;... cruel death eaten 

three times
daily with Denial;. 

then washed down
with bittersweet Euphemisms,
and passed along

like unwanted guests.
(who're begrudgingly
asked to "stay a while.")

For

Anything that binds ?

It is a clever
means to gain, or keep 

control over the
things one cannot bear to lose;
while fearing a loss of self in every slammed
door, and set of words ignored.

Therefore be wary of
any tie which binds..
For Any tie that binds,
is most often A Noose.
(which Hangs...)

J.Stephen.H

Beyond my Shadow.

   Beyond my Shadow
    _______________

You're dead to me!
I scream,..to the worst
part of Myself.

(And may the Next
Dead Thing be
born The Same.)

From your beginning
you have been A Curse,
and curses only Breed more
Curses to Feed!

(since curses are
always wretched,
hungry things.)

I would have
died for you
(once) before
you Killed Me;
yet now you
can Die for all
I Care.

And please
know that
Nothing
will ever
take away
The Memories
of those
Horrors that
we shared!

(But it might
be easier for
me to See Beyond
My Shadow if
it isn't There.)

J.Stephen.H

Revisiting an Old Romantic Memory

Revisiting an Old Romantic Memory.
___________________

Here recently, my mind has been
(more and more often)
revisiting an Old Romantic Memory;...
and such a process is Bittersweet.

Sometimes I catch myself laughing
(out loud) at Nothing,
until my laughter fades into
a Crooked Smile.
(then eventually I Weep.)

While I've never been a Fan
of Popular Mindsets,
or age old Cliches';...
I have Always felt
(and Known)
She is (or was)
The One For Me.

Yet somewhere down the Line
(which ironically became a
Twisted Maze.)
The Universe saw fit to Rob
me of my Destiny;..
so that I now sit here stewing,
Lost and Lonely,
cursing my inability to
bring back Yesterday!
(watching through cynical eyes
this World of Dreamers Flourish
and Play, as I dwell on thoughts
of this Love I Hate.)

Why must fate be so Cruel?
Giving others a Throne to
sit upon, while I'm left here
(broken) with a Stool?
Knowing painfully all too
Well that the One
For me will Never Be!
(and everyone elses Heaven is
my Hell.)

J.Stephen.H

Lady May

Lady May.
__________

Whats the matter
Lady May?...
Did all of your
Daughters run away?
into the Cities with
suitors, and Fools,
who hope to wed
someday?

Whatever happened
to the Light in your Eyes?
That burned like Stars
on a Summer Night.
Was it extinguished
by more Bitter Truths?

(like perhaps the
Coming of Demise.)

Do the Flowers
now seem Scentless
in your State of
Reminiscence?,..
as you toss and turn
(more breathless)
Watching Shadows
Paint the Wall?!!
Or do you find it
safer not to View
 their Art at all?

It seems my sweet,
that in all of
your sorrow,..
Time for you
is Misery Borrowed,
from an Ominous
Script of tortured Souls!

(those shattered
lives
with Hearts so
broken they could
not hope to be whole.)



Either way Cry
not my Lady May,...
for yourself, or
those who Fade Away!

I'm sure
Your daughters and their
foolish husbands are
sure to return someday..

If only but to refresh the
Roses

that Angels
placed Upon Your Grave!!!

(to immortalize
Your Name.)

J.Stephen.H

The Tragic Clown who Needs to Smile

The Tragic Clown Who Needs To Smile.
_______________________

Everyone could be the one for Someone,
if they accepted Everything in Them,
and looked beyond the postured veil to see
True Beauty hidden behind beastly Frames;
(either that or it's all for Nothing.)

Just as "You" could be The One who brings
a  Smile to the face of every Tragic Clown
you meet; (who usually fabricates his glee to
abstain from weeping.)
Or YOU could Be The Tragic Clown who needs
to Smile!
(it's far worse for those who do Nothing.)

Those who do Nothing can only Be what they Are,
and what they are is a reflection of what they DO;
thus (for better or worse) it's better to be The Worst
at something, than Empty.
(also I've found many brilliant characters who were
shaped by mental Scars.)

I will be The One who Shows You;
True Beauty hidden fearfully behind a
Beastly Frame;
Otherwise I would be untrue!,..and
essentially the Same!
(as those who do Nothing.)

• J.Stephen.H

The Chaos that is man

The Chaos that is Man.
________________

The Jury on my
view towards
God is Hung;...
since Evil often
prospers, while
the Good and
True die Young.

Freewill
Be damned!

For I would
rather live a
Controlled Lamb!

(than governed by
the Chaos that is
Man.)
___

Laughable (to me)
are those of Faith..
who say: t'is not your
place to know
the "Answer,"...
to why Pestilence
often Rule the Day,
while Innocent Babes
Die of Cancer.

Thus I'd rather
die and Face
Hells Flames,
than live spouting
Sneseless Praise
To Saints!
___

And so.. the
jury on my
View towards
God is hung;...
in a World where
evil prospers.

(while the Good
and True Die
Young.)

J.Stephen.H

To Dream of Love

To Dream of Love.
______________

To dream of Love,
awakens you to the
possibility that two
Minds united can
Conquer The World,
but to "Know" Love
validates the Timeless
Notion that nothing
in This World, or life
can Stand against it.
(other than Ones Self.)

Yet much caution
should be exercised,
when examining the
Countless Natures
known (so far) in the
amorous activities
of various Loving
Creatures.

For Not All are
the Machinations
of Fairy Tales.
(nor do they end so)

Some are the rare
exception to those
ancient rules set forth
in Legend,..and in
such Endings many
monsters have smiled
Victorious over the
Graves of would be
Heroes.

For When such
Things dream of
Love,...A Nightmare
is born into this World,
and all angels hide
their (once smiling)
faces from the Shadows
of those Beings!

(who Exist as Self-
Sustaining  Mysteries
in the Mind of every
Broken Hearted Fiend.)

J.Stephen.H

An experiment in contradictive statements. (which reveal a Core of humorous Art.)

An Experiment in Contradictive Statements.
(which reveals a Core of Art.)
_____________________________

I tell Her a
Funny Joke;..
(Me)
and watch
as she Laughs
Hysterically;..
before her Amused
Tears become A
Profound Source
of Misery.

(she always
responds so
sadly.)

I like doing
things in my
own particular
way;..
sometimes
they work for me,..
other times they  fail
worse than a
Motivational Speakers
vain attempt at
riling up the troops
For Doomsday.

(knowing damn
well 3/4's of the
World is supposedly
going to Hell.)

The sources of my
inspiration are many.
(and none)

Many  Fictional,
and Realistic Themes
beneath The Ever
Changing Sun..
which darken and
stain the Joy in
Everyone....

But its just my
way of telling jokes.

( and may you
cry until I'm Done.)


J.Stephen.H

Truth Profound

I let the Cold water flow freely;
like healing snow which satisfies the many
Burning Parts In Me;
Capitalizing upon Words that Feel,...
Something Equal To
(or greater than)
This Tragey.
Small Ideas Make War with The Better
Thoughts I have;...
and I Often pick Favorties,...
though I realize both are Necessary
Forms of Entertainment,
to keep me from going (completely) Mad.

Yet concerning Madness and Art,..
(or Art and Madness.)
is there ever a Difference?
Does it not inspire Joy in some,
while filling other Minds with unsound
Sadness?! (which replicates, and thus
seems Infinite to the Will Of Masses.)
I let the water Drown in Me,..
choosing to become my Own
Grim Calming Sea;...Contradiction
in terms?...yes,..certainly!
yet truer none the Less than Any
bullshit Version of reality you claim to See!
(and for this I've found that Truth Profound,
is often A thing Frowning in the dark uncertainly!)
J.stephen. H.

Of the Poets Lot.

In want of Love,
The poet becomes
A Heartsick Fiend;...
who uses Words like
Drugs.
(to ease his lonely
Suffering.)
All Beauty, and Mystical
Images brought out by the
strokes of his pen, are merely
wishes he seeks to fulfill;
(or better memories through
Art relived again.)
Thus it is with a Bittersweet
Acceptance that I cast myself
amongst the Poets Lot;...and may
my Pen (in describing you) Be
true!....
lest my mind, (much like my heart)
shall rot!
(or become a memory better left Forgot.)

J.Stephen.H

And the Universe Laughs. (The Dreams destined to Kill Me)

 And The Universe Laughs.
(The Dreams Destined to Kill Me.)
_________________________

I have (many times)
 attempted to abandon
 my Pursuit of the Dreams
 Destined to Kill Me;
 but the Universe only
 Laughs in Glee!
 (All Knowing.)

They say my existence
 is obscured
 merely because
 I am a Mystery
 Unto My thinking-self;
 and (again)
 the Universe
 Laughs!...
 (since it knows each
 Mystery intimately Well.)

 I see Gods and Devils,...
 Heroes and Villains;..
 as Two Sides of A Coin which
 bears the Same ever-changing
 Center;..and (as Always) The
 Universe Simply Laughs!
 (inviting Me to Enter.)

 SO I have (many Times) attempted
 to End this Dream of Myself,..hoping
 I can somehow cease the Universal
 Laughter Heard in Every Shell;..
 but then the Universe might Weep!
 (and that would  be My Hell.)

 J.Stephen.H

A Riddle I share in Writing;

A Riddle I share in Writing.
___________________________

I write because the moments in between are Nothing;
fleeting words, and images intended to express my feelings,
but none the less inadequate once they leave Me.
Each step might bring me closer to an inner resolution that
(to the world) seems pointless, or makes little sense.
I assure you it makes less sense to me,..
yet here I am all the same to
confess My Absence.

I am asked:" what is meant by these riddles that you cast?",..
and I laugh so loud I'm afraid this world itself may break
into pieces more fragile than  Historys' Glass.
( yet this confusion still leaves me content in knowing
there is A way to reshape My  Past.)

I write because writing gives me the otherwise unpresent
ability to Create Worlds the way I want MY WORLD to be;
perfect, as I understand and see perfection....without flaw.
(or fear of enslavement by the Hands of Destiny.)

It's all a riddle I wrote, and didn't understand at first...
until I really started looking; Now its a Riddle I share
in writing.

J.Stephen.H

When the Heart Becomes a Venus Flytrap

When the Heart becomes a venus flytrap
__________________________

When the Heart
becomes a Venus
Flytrap,

many
fools will crave
loves sting,..

and say:

"consume me
dark phantom
of suffering!"


(I shall cherish
every woe you
bring today .)

+

Yet how does
One
measure
the way it
hurts?

(infinity times
The Universe.)

or testify of Loves
True Worth?!!

(when it's said
to
be greater than
This
Earth.)

+

Some fools
try to steal
Heaven.

(while
others just
rent it
for a night)

But what do
They
do when Angels
walk in?!!!

( turn out God's
Golden Light.)

+

I imagine a
Place
beyond each
Space,

where an answer
lies in wait... for
every question
man has asked.

Yet fear in this
Life

(which
my own
Grim Thoughts
cannot surpass)

that the Truth
Consumes Us
Like
a Venus Flytrap!

(and its mostly
Horror until That. )

J.Stephen.H

A Staredown contest with the Clock

A Staredown Contest With The Clock.
________________________________

The Clock becomes a menace
when you can't take your eyes
off of it;..watching the slightest
hand ticking away the seconds of
another senseless day,...while
filled with  a rage so intense you
threaten to Break it's Face.

The ticking is so loud it enters
my head,..disrupting my heartbeat,...
as The Clock challenges me to another
unbeatable stare-down contest;...but
this time I'm in the lead by two seconds;
and two seconds (I think) could give
me an edge I never possessed before.

"Come on you useless Fuck!" (I scream.)
"Stop just this once For Me."

In spite of the Bastards Sneering
Mockery,..I force myself to calm
down and try again;...taking deep
breaths to collect my Racing Thoughts.
(afraid to blink.)

"How do you BEAT something at a
stare-down when it doesn't have eyes?"
(i ask myself.) Before a strange laughter
fills the room which I imagine could
only be That ever-present Enemy Time.
__________

I wake up in cold sweats,..my chest
heaving as it hungrily draws in airless
breath;..The ticking is still in my head,
but not as loud, or mimicking my heartbeat
as it did in my dream. (or nightmare if you
prefer.)

Then I look at the clock for a few seconds...
contemplating challenging it to another
Stare-down contest but change my mind;
"ah fuck it." I say to myself aloud. " No
one ever wins a stare-down  against an
opponent Without Eyes!"

(And besides...NO ONE Beats The
Enemy Time.)

J.Stephen.H

Cry With laughter

Cry with Laughter/
_______________

She asks me how I feel;...
and I laugh,...
She asks me "why?"
"well,..I just felt like
laughing." (I reply.)

"So...
you think
its Funny?"
(she asks)
No...not really.
(I answer.)
"Laughter
isn't always
related to
Comedy,or a
way to express
feelings of hilarity
you know;...
sometimes A Man
Cries With Laughter."

"That doesn't
make any sense!"..
she screams.

" I didn't really
intend for it to."
(I say.)

Sometimes I
wonder why I
waste my time
with you!"
(she shrieks)

(sometimes I think
its ALL a waste, and
everyone is Doomed!)
__
"Are you ever
serious about
ANYTHING?!"....
she asks.

"Yeah,
sometimes;..
(I reply.)

(but it's mostly
when I Cry With
Laughter.)

J.Stephen.H

Someone like you. (I did Not Fall)

Someone Like You. (I did Not Fall.)
_____________

I did not "Fall" for You; (my Love.)
For YOU,...I chose to climb out of
the Mental Grave of My Despair;...
seeing more truth in your shinning
eyes, than any illusion Life declares.

Because of you,.. I hope for unrealistic
Dreams resembling Heaven, while laughing at the
idea that anyone who loves could conceive
a Nightmare such as Hell;...
For you bind me to the Better Cause!
(A Throne from which so many fell.)

I'm convinced now...
that only Fools fall in Love;..
while the lucky ones are inspired to
rise above their miserable Worlds, and reach new
Heavens.
( because they have someone like YOU.)

J.S.H.

The Birth of a God Born to Dream.

The Birth of a God Born to Dream.
______________________

The Cynic of Old who said
"Love is Dead',
was once a Fool;
( until society evolved
and proved him right.)

Thats the Irony of self-
fulfilling prophecy.
What begins a hypothetical
Fear, can unconsciously
shape occurrences, and
create Monsters born from
Human Hind-sight.

Our inability to state the Sum
of this Universe is battled
by Daydreaming inclinations
to state posits theorizing
a Plurality of Worlds; and
usually its more of an intellectual
defense mechanism used to
conquer the anxiety and helplessness
we feel, knowing deep down that few
worldy things are positively
known.thus Theories and Posits
are damned!
(when on witnesses the death of
human possibility.)

Man is a product of Apely ancestors
who (for whatever reason) became
self conscious, and started opposing
certain instincts in order to meet
newfound needs;
( like vanity, socializing, ego-
sustainment, and greed.)

While God is the Universe (or Worlds)
who laughs at every Dream!
(which I've personally found to be a
 Nightmare of itself, viewed Objectively.)

Sounds crazy dosen't it?... if you say "yes",..
I'm inclined to believe that you're the craziest
of all for thinking there was ever any  Sanity;
and I suggest you consider the possibility that
its your influence making the world a
septic tank of Madness where bullshit sells,
and Truth is overlooked until one of the bullshitters
decides to promote it with One-sided testimonials.
I'll stick to doing the "crazy" things I do.
(and consider The birth of a God born to Dream.)

J.Stephen.H

The Shadow of myself. (which I accuse.)

The Shadows of Myself/
(which I accuse.)
_____________

I chew slowly the
grapes of Wrath;
as the Bittersweet
Irony stains any
Soul unfortunate
enough to cross my
Hateful Path.

Monkeys!
(I accuse)
Criminals!
(one and All.)
Victims of this Social
Aftermath.
(in a society born to Fall.)

Deep, meaningless
Symbolisms,...
oh how they make
a motley Pot of
Senseless Stew!;...
Criticisms from below;
Reality from Afar!
(I laugh at how sincerely
it effects you.)

No Tree of Life is
known so well,
as the many Limbs
of Certain Death;
so that Few have
climbed half a Branch.
(without sacrificing
self respect.)

Monkeys!
(I proclaim)
Criminals!
(all abused)
A Herd of
Useless refuse!
(they are Shadows
of  myself which I
accuse.)

J.Stephen.H

I choose to Dream. (in hope others soon catch on.)

I choose to Dream.
(in Hope that others soon catch on.)
____________________

Salvation in a pill...
really?
Todays Pain made
to seem
like Tommorows
disposable Memory!

Yesterday was better;...
half of my recollection,
minus the cold Weather,...
plus one more imaginary
Friend whos words I now
find lacking.
I shall cherish this choice
(I do Not Have) forever!

What do I mean by this?..
forget everything, and ask
again tomorrow as you seek
 to find a Better Man!
(I'm sure with  help from my sponsors
each Lie will go according to Plan.)

They need these pills to help them forget what
a Fucking Lie everything proves to Be; (eventually)
I could get rich selling those bastards
to a World of Sheep and Pawns!
(who sleep to avoid the Reality
of Tomorrows Memory.)
But unlike "them", I have a sense of Moral dignity..
(so instead I choose to Dream, in hope
that others soon catch on.)

J.Stephen.H.

My Only Wish.

My Only Wish
_______________

The only Wish I would
 make upon
 a Shooting Star,
is for None to ever Fall;
so this world might keep
Beauty at a distance, in a place
 where Dreams (by Life)
cannot be scarred.

 For I truly believe
 that Hope Dies only
 when killed by
 untrusting Minds,.
 no longer able to See anything
 good in the face of Mankind;
 whether by mental force, or
 random acts of Hate,..
 they are Sad Wraiths who
 desecrate The Purpose of Faith!

The purpose of Faith,
is believing there is meaning
regardless that it has'nt been found;
or lying Broken on a Dirty Floor,
grateful not to
be a Memory in the Ground!;
and it is for this Reason that I find
wishing to be unnecessary.
(and the Gift of Love sustains
my Souls requirements.)

J.Stephen.H

To Know. (The Horror Of All Things.)

To Know. (the Horror of All Things.)
____________________

Those differing
greatly from
The Mass are
"they" who see
(with undesired
clarity) The Many
Horrors hidden
behind veils of
Comedy.

Old Souls
trapped in
Youthful Skins,
suffering
(as in former
centuries)
from a variety
of shared
Transgressions
few can
even SEE;
those who "know".
( collective thought is
the maker of  Reality.)

Just as I Know, from
somewhere deeper than
these stained centuries
morbid depths in Me,
that My Death (which
cannot be met with fear
or sorrow)
is always caused by an
unconscious,
Self-Fulfilling Prophecy!
___
If you are one who differs
greatly from the Sleeping
Mass,...I URGE YOU to
take pains in forgetting those
many centuries passed;...
and seek joy in Lifes
Common Simplicity.
(for that would be a much
Better Ending, than to Know
The Horror of All Things.)

J.Stephen.H

Better Spies than Lovers

Most recently (alone) I have discovered,
that some make Better Spies than Lovers;
Better Unpaid Whores, who frollick, and
Pant! (beneath a multitude of Covers.)
Faith is Not for Everyone;
Not for those without a Hope,
Nor the perpetually insecure at Heart,..
Not for they who cannot Cope!
(whos minds by faith are torn apart.)
Very few indeed,
embrace increasingly anitiquted
notions such a trust, and Fidelity;
everyone wants,
and Fucks,
and feels the Need!
(for greater Variety.)
the Former Spice of Life
(in Love)
has become a Lemon to the Tongue;
A better Unpaid whore
than lover trusted!..or
an interesting Indiscretion!
(that I like to analyze for Fun.)

J.Stephen.H

Poetic Genocide

Poetic Genocide.
________________

(most of my greatest
literary achievements)
Will begin as Unpunctual,
contradictive afterthoughts;
or compatible oxymorons
which agree to disagree...
like retold memories in
their Prime.

( likely better left forgot.)

People
will Stop,
stare,
accredit,
discredit;...
then pass idly
by with
no attention
rightly paid!

All of them
are wrong..
(but some of
them were Right)

since I did it
just to kill This
Time!

(which would
have killed me
otherwise.)
_____
Already I marvel,
considering how
many Wordcrafty
Grammar Nazis
will accuse me
of Poetic Genocide;
because they dont
understand the
pointlessness of
the Points I make
with my contradictive pen,...

hell most will probably
suffer aneurisms!

and then I'll sleep that
sleepless dream of Sleep;
awakening once more inspired.

(to do it Again.)

J.Stephen.H

To:The one whom I adored.

To: (The One Whom I Adored.)
___________________

I was yours,...
but now I am nothing.
faithless and untrue
 forevermore.
(cursing every heart
still beating.)

It's easy isn't it?...
to bury the pain
somewhere deep,
and pretend you forget.
(the way it feels to hold hands
and laugh at Loveless Hypocrites.)

The problem I have is remembering;
when I see a happy couple smiling,
(Content in the presence of eachothers'
 company.)

I often grit my teeth in rage,
and clench trembling fists till my palms
start bleeding...
All because of you.
(whom I once adored.)
You, who left me
A Cold and faithless
Monster now forevermore!

 J.Stephen.H

wordcasting

 Let he who is without guns or an over-abundant
 amount of testosterone cast the first word;...
 then stare in mock surprise as the
 warring jesters face grows so serious
 that he drops His stones.
                                                                 
 That wasnt so bad was it?...an experiment in
 how a speaking man could rule any continent
 with flattery as opposed to force! Just ask Ghandi
 how good it felt...(then follow on a similar course.)

 So many noteworthy martyrs...so little time!
 Therefore I mention none in order to avoid
 the embarrassment of looking like a bastardly ingrate.
 ( Though such lines are already fine.) With a little
 hope and a lot less alcohol, i'll be able to take my grandchildren
 out wordcasting someday; and sit laughing over a commercially
 correct bag of Worthers Originals ©(rtm) about the old days
 when pappy j. helped defeat a mass of jesters with words
 instead of stones.

Send Flowers to the Dead.

Send Flowers to the Dead.
______________

Send Flowers to
the Dead my love,
send Flowers to
the Dead.

Raise the mighty
Banners of War!,
and lower not
your ringing head...
nor weep upon the
earths Green Floor!
(but shed Rivers of
Blood instead.)

War is the answer
to a Maidens Cry,...
standing lonely by
her Lovers Door;
questioning why
her Heart has Died.

Because War is Love,
and love is War!
And both require
sacrifice!

(more now than
they ever have
before.)

Send Flowers
to the
Dead My Love,
send Flowers to
the Dead.
_

Justice! yells a
Man of Virtue.
Vengeance! Screams
all those who Judge.
Expansion! shriek
the Greedy and Shrewd,
who roam across the
World in floods,
(seeking to Kill Those
Righteous Few.)
War is Hell!
and Hell is War!

(The Bones of
Innocence become
its Food.)

Send Flowers to
the Dead my Love,
Send Flowers to the
Dead.

War is a Soldier
gazing across
Foreign Shores;
wondering if He
will ever see
Home again.

He cannot recall
The Faces of His
Family anymore!

( and sees only The
Devils leering Grin.)

War is "US" and
WE are WAR!!

( defeated by the
Enemies Within.)

Send Flowers to
the Dead my Love!

(Send Flowers to
the Dead....)

J.Stephen.H

As a heart Lays Dying. (none leave smiling.)

 As A Heart lays Dying.
______________

 Come one, Come All!
 Gather round, and see..
 the face of Love as A
 Heart Lays Dying!

 Notice it's grim features
 (twisted in agony) which
 once stood Smiling.

This Bold Heart took A
Chance, and was frowned
upon by the Fates who govern
over Human Romance.
(yet whether or not it's Reborn
to feel again, relies on
circumstance.)

Some will Love, Lose,
and Love again for the
entirety of their Lives.
While others may Love
Once,..Lose, then Never
Love Again!

(dead within until
they Die.)

This is the Circus known
as Love,..which can transform
a Mind into the Devils Own,
or be blessed by Angels from
Above!

so Come One,..Come All,
and see.. the variety
of Human Oddities!...
But realize this certainty:
that NONE Leave Smiling!

(after viewing the broken
Face of Love as a Heart Lays
Dying.)

   J.Stephen.H

Mister Spendthrifty the Unrepentant Alcoholic.

  Mister Spendthrifty the Unrepentant Alcoholic.
_____________________

  Mister Spendthrifty the
  Unrepentant Alcoholic,
  adopts a carefree attitude.
  (because he really cares so much.)
  He thinks it's likely the safest bet.
  (since people mostly suck.)

  The Street Bums, and Meth Hookers,
  and Runaway Gems (who see themselves
  as lumps of Coal) all flock to Him;...
  He is their prophet who preaches about
  A Life reflective of the Saddest Realism.
  He hates the attention that they secretly crave.
  (and so he pays it all to them.)

  It's ironic how some who are capable of
  doing nearly Anything, choose to have
  (and Be) Nothing. Existing as Phantoms
  of The World who cling patehtically to
  the antiquated fables of their upbringing;...
  Mister Spendthrifty the Unrepentant
  Alcoholic probably knows them all.
  (which is why you would never catch him
  weeping.)

  For a 6 dollar Bottle and a pack of Cheap
  Smokes,.. Mister Spendthrifty will work
  an 8 hour day, or write you some
  of the greatest poetry anyone has written.
  Some see Him as a Joke. Others see a Star Unrisen.
  He sees another Bottle, on Another
  Day....full of people he cares about So Much.
 
     (in a world that mostly Sucks.)


  J.Stephen.H

Love is: (or)

  Love Is: (or).
______________

Love is: A Grave Fools
fall into and rarely find a
way to dig themselves
out of.

Or: Listening to the
same joke 1,000 times
and then laughing like
each time you heard it
was the First.

Pain and Pleasure
battling within the
Hearts and Minds
of Irrational Animals,
who sit helplessly by
as all attempts to exercise
reason and logic ultimately
fail.

Love Is: Something you
cannot control,
which most
often Controls You.

Or: A Slave which serves
no Master but itself.
and Each Moment of
Insecurity and Doubt.

It Is My Worst Fear.

(that I will always fear
living without.)

  J.Stephen.H

__

This is for...
(you know who
you are.)
The Girl with
eyes who Ate
the Stars, and
Spit back The
Prettiest Tragedy..

(that I've ever
pushed away.)

The Prettiest Ghost.

  The Prettiest Ghost.
________________

The Prettiest Ghost
I've ever seen,
with luminous eyes
of emerald green,
stands before me
quiet, and serene.

(waiting for me
to speak.)

I sit in silence,
deeper still..
curious, but wary..
Wondering what
she Feels..!
considering
Passions Lost.

(which scare me.)

Then A faint breeze
touches my cheek,..
producing cold chills
down my spine,..
But it does little to
break this solitude!!

(or inspire words
between her and I.)

It's been this way
for centuries now,..
two ghosts (in love)
grown still with doubt.
Waiting (in patience)
for each to speak, and
voice that Love aloud!!!

And for Eternity it s
hall remain this way,
with her (the prettiest
ghost I've seen) waiting
for me to speak; as I
(in my stupidity) sit
considering the most
appropriate thing to say!

  J.Stephen.H.