About Me

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I have been writing for years, but never knew that I was a writer. The expression itself was and has always been such a personal adventure that it never crossed my mind to allow others to partake in my work. I still don't call myself a writer or a poet, those titles go to the published or established, but I hope to obtain such entitlement in the very near future. But over all, I hope that I can spark some sort of discussion. Whether it's about my work and the emotions or thoughts that it has provoked, or even just about how pitful and weak my writing just might be. Either way, it is discussion and forcing some kind of thought! I hope you all enjoy! Feel free to email me at jlcope77@yahoo.com for any reason. Enjoy.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

The light transcends through the echoes of the screams. With fingers outstretched the delusion of comfort turns formality into a burning wind that sparks the night. The peace stagnates into a woolen blanket of regret and stains the brows of those knelt to the conformity of despair and loss. It plasters it's infection into the innocence of a youth distracted from the path set long ago and so turns a blind eye to the change it brings. This levels the sentiment of hope and explodes through a blank sky of any aspirations and will. The words freeze in the chilled air that this torment brings like a violent wind through the halls of our being and shakes the very foundation of our hearts. The neglect turns the skin dry and cracks the lips and ages our eyes, and with every sting halts our prayers, it is endless, unshakeable, an unquenchable thirst that only breeds desperation. The despair slides and slithers slowly over us as if being baptized in the shallowest of rivers and sweeps away all knowledge of self and truth. This is the light that transcends into the nothingness of loss and forfeit of ones self.


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Wednesday, December 5, 2012

The dark shutters across a pinpointed canvas and rolls over the valleys of the waining sunlight as it exits off into the distance. My eyes breach through the space and distance of the passing moments attempting to find a glimpse of meaning. The smell stings through the pores of my senses and bites as it cascades down my limbs clear to my throbbing toes. There is only ashes left from your shadow as it stretches across my mind, and through the windows of my thoughts. It's clear, the memories of your touch as they parade around my crimson shaded pupils that seem to ooze down my cheek bone and off into the oblivion that will never be named. It is timeless, it is infinite, and in some capacity finite. The drought of this despair rises like a wave to crash time and time again over the tops of my heart and squeezes the air and all that's around it, tactfully suffocating the breath of hope. This is the wake of your absence, this is the after shock cascading through the corridors of my skin. It's all I have felt. This is all I have know. An ever present and familiar stranger rummaging through halls of my sanity and smashing all hope. It is horrifically pleasant.

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Friday, November 30, 2012

Lift your hands to this oncoming wind. Let it pass through these finger tips and over your soul. Leave me with arms stretched and eyes wide open, leave me with that dry taste in my mouth from my hesitance. Don't let go of this tide, let it pierce my being and wash away the shell that used to be, let it flake off into this sea of dependency and run away like the night disappears into the day. Leave me standing here, fidgeting over what might be, not the reckoning of what we used to know. Let those ghost go, scream out the past to make breath for our future and hold me tightly in it.


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Sunday, November 25, 2012

This moment I know it's changed, the things that were have slipped off into the wind and are gone, seemingly, forever. But your lips, your touch, the words and the pain and the hope we shared, that will be what stays. It will linger in my heart indefinitely.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone