jump to navigation

Megalomaniac – Poem by Jade Blackmore July 30, 2017

Posted by vscorpiozine in Jade Blackmore, Veteran Poets.
Tags: , ,
add a comment

Megalomaniac

Everyone else is a laughingstock,
Buoyed by the clutter of a premiere page.
Caffeine boost, internet drone.
A human statue, so cryptic and cold-blooded
More exalted than
A dead comrade
Or new girls and their selfies.
So untouchable
In her salty square corner of the world.

Raising the Bar – Poem by Jade Blackmore July 29, 2017

Posted by vscorpiozine in Jade Blackmore, poems, poetry, Veteran Poets.
Tags: , ,
add a comment

Raising the Bar

The ruins of a never-ending last call.
65 going on 19,
a frat-boy with too-thick eyebrows,
a woman with a shattered glass meth voice
Everything is free and easy
Or it’s not worth the effort.

The survivor realizes too late,
but drives away
from the long black expanse
of wasted years
toward reinvention.

Poem – Down the Rabbit Hole by Jade Blackmore February 17, 2016

Posted by vscorpiozine in city poems, Jade Blackmore, Uncategorized.
Tags: , , , ,
1 comment so far

She walks through the hippest cemetery in America at midnight.
(More beer bottles, fewer bouquets)
“Your boyfriend must be hard to live with,” her heroin addict companion observes,before arguing with the burly security guard at the front gate.
There’s no time to wonder how she got here,
And even less time to get out.

Poem- The Last Xmas Party before Everybody Got Old by Jade Blackmore September 29, 2015

Posted by vscorpiozine in Jade Blackmore, love poems, romantic poems, Veteran Poets.
Tags: , , ,
1 comment so far

The Last Xmas Party before Everybody Got Old

They stand in the kitchen
drinking eggnog.
She grabs and arranges
sprigs of his hair
til they stand up like
Alfalfa from the Little Rascals.
He talks about his trip to Paris
(animated, rapid-fire memories),
eyes round and brimming like a little kid with a new toy.

BIO:

Jade Blackmore is a poet, pop culture blogger and occasional novelist. Visit her website at Jadeblackmore.com

Poem- Cinderella’s Time in These Parts is Limited by Jade Blackmore September 14, 2015

Posted by vscorpiozine in Jade Blackmore, Los Angeles, poems, poetry, Veteran Poets.
Tags: , , , ,
1 comment so far

Cinderella’s Time in These Parts is Limited

Two homeless guys deal drugs
out of an abandoned station wagon
while the girl watches from the Silverlake Boulevard overpass,
eating a cookie in the dark.
Shopkeepers roll down their gates,
one by one til the streets are deserted.

She walks toward the only open door on the block.
Some old rock dude asks her if she has any heroin.
She gives him the rest of her chocolate macadamia cookie
And walks inside.

The Hollow Year – Jade Blackmore August 4, 2015

Posted by vscorpiozine in 1980s, Jade Blackmore, poetry, romantic poems.
Tags: , , , ,
1 comment so far

The Hollow Year

He wears a black T-shirt,
Auburn hair swept back against his perfect cheekbones.
A hot trickle of tears scorches me
As I watch him fulfill her hissing request.
When I look at him even now,
Even when he is with her,
I can feel every breath I have ever taken.
There are memories in his every sinew,
In his every rounded muscle there are
Days and weeks of my life.
I waived my final chance to love him so I could hear poets bicker.
Now I beg just to have the privilege of seeing his face again.
A conceited geologist’s advances took the place of his icy, exact voice.
Three girls played pinochle in sub-zero temperatures as I locked myself
in the next room and thought of him.
My heart,
My vessels,
Were drained, empty for an entire year.
I deserted him because a short girl in overalls said, “The man is vulgar. He’s grown up wrong.”

It is good to be subtle.
It shows strength. Talent. Maturity.
It shows that I have forsaken my love for him to
Work 9 to 5 coding yesterday’s treason,
To ride aimlessly on the subway weekends,
And watch shoe stores liquidate
Just to pass the time.

Copyright 1981 Revised 2015

Jade Blackmore – The Baby Boomers Go Home June 12, 2015

Posted by vscorpiozine in 1960s, baby boomers, Jade Blackmore, poems, poetry, suburbia.
Tags: , , , , ,
add a comment

The Baby Boomers Go Home

The cadence of summer.
Transistor radios sprinkled with sand.
Blueberry sundaes from the Mr. Softee truck every night at seven-thirty,
walls smothered with black light posters,
Roman candles on the lawn
popping
sparks.
My best friend on the front porch
frugging to Monkees’ records.
The calendar’s too heavy,
too long til we spurn
this suburbuan womb.

Forty years later,
the mothball smell of Mary Beth’s house still lingers in my memory.
The walls are naked,
thin ice
on which to hang dreams.
Now it’s graffiti on bus benches,
Daddy’s driver’s license in a sealed safety deposit box,
a tear that never ends.

Copyright 1999, 2015 Jade Blackmore

Poem-Wish May 19, 2015

Posted by vscorpiozine in Jade Blackmore, love poems, romantic poems.
Tags: , , ,
1 comment so far

Wish

Stars, countless but distinct
Match the longing in your eyes.
Our little clique tightens
While the world tumbles.
One kiss for every year wasted,
One sweep of hand on thigh
For every chance squandered.
There is no escape from
Dreams co-opted by age
Some obsessions reach their voyeuristic
And obvious conclusion
With a flourish.

Copyright 2004 Jade Blackmore

Poem – Waiting by Jade Blackmore March 30, 2015

Posted by vscorpiozine in Jade Blackmore, love poems, romantic poems.
Tags: , ,
1 comment so far

Waiting

Two homeless guys deal drugs
out of an abandoned station wagon.
I watch from the Silverlake Boulevard overpass,
eating a cookie in the dark.
Shopkeepers roll down their gates,
one by one while I wait for you.
I barely know you.
I don’t know what to expect.
Innocence makes me brave.

Copyright 2009 Jade Blackmore

Poem – When You Hold a Cloth to the Light January 22, 2015

Posted by vscorpiozine in Jade Blackmore, poetry, Veteran Poets.
Tags: , ,
2 comments

When You Hold A Cloth To The Light

When you hold a cloth to the light
You see the finely honed threads,
the fading colors,
the dusty trail of a poet,
a genius,
a saint and a seducer,
Beyond lust and beyond reproach.
Wouldn’t it be original if your words
Translated crisp and clear
You’re not like the others
But you deceive like they do
You’re better at it.
Seamless,
Dangerously sharp
And aloof.
A worthy adversary
Though no one is qualified to challenge.
The usual methods won’t work here.
So I tune into your mind,
The words on paper,
The game beneath the gloss.
That is all we have.
Beauty dims and disappears.
Flesh is the conduit, not the source.
Knowledge remains.
Attraction begins and ends
Between the ears.

Copyright 2007 Jade Blackmore