MY POEMS #12 'Prisoner of Pleasure'

MY POEMS #12 'Prisoner of Pleasure'
By Jesse Young (2012)

The pallid prince entombed far-deep,
A pleasure prison his soul to keep.
Boring lustful through wanton tomes,
In rude recline he made soft moans.
Sensuous vapours ignite the air,
As naked flesh is brought to bare.
Oiled skin arches in mad cavort,
As lewd acts yet unknown are sought.
Poised supine for endless ravish,
But never do these urges vanish.
Sublime though once it was to him,
Life so debauched was wearing thin.
His face contorts at pleasure's peak,
Shows agonies he dare not speak.
For though meaning has departed,
Some realms still remain uncharted.

MY POEMS #11 'Poor Self-Image'

'Poor Self-Image' By Jesse Young (2012)

T'was in the wee hours one chill December morn,
Whereof old moorland; miasma did take its form.
While odious rites invoked long-forgotten things,
Did barely realised nightmares earn for them black wings.
Something ageless, something old, stirs beneath the icy cold.
So dread a thing; fear'd flee, rather than beside 'it' be.
Malice and nothing but, claims this blight for it's rut.
Its raison d'etre: seek, torments countless to wreak.
Surely 'tis you shall pique, to know of whom I speak.
Draw near the edge; stare down, at a visage so clear,
Watch closely now; your watery image appear.

MY POEMS #10 'On a bad day'

'On a Bad Day'
By Jesse Young (2012)

Exhale a sigh, roll of the eye, this again, wonder why?
Familiar groove, take the same move, tell me, what does this prove?
Positions locked, preempt & mock, the other; knock.
Battles so old, too often retold, play out & unfold.
You're never heard, your view; absurd, there's no point.
Why won't I listen, 'I can make it my mission' forget it.
Much like before, slam of the door, I know what's in store.
Tactics employ, to hurt & destroy, you annoy; sometimes.
Simple excuse, to mask plain abuse, I tie my own noose.
Maturity? When...don't depend - on me, as a friend even.
Push it too far, love soon to mar, and the stars; fade slowly.
Your eyes hit mine, once so sublime, borrowed time; all I find.
Thinly veiled, love's stale'd, resentment, tedium.
Where is the fun? Has its course run? Too long; devoid of sun.
Inertia prevents, sudden events, agony; dying love.
Simply just fear, so keep you near? Or love's yet here..where steer?
Do I stay still, day fill; it with you, for reasons few?
Dark is the hue, my entire view, this feeling not new...Maybe it's true?
Poem's a chore, all like before, nothing grows, too damn sore.
Too lazy to write, poetical flights, bulk of my might; to this plight.
Too bare to care, barely aware - take a chair; sit & stare.
I am tired, nigh expired, never fired; never wired.
Dull dull dull dull, null null null null,Cull cull cull cull, consciousness end.

MY POEMS #9 'Side Buy Side'

Side Buy Side
By Jesse Young (2012)

A wicked artifice,                     A wicked artist,
Rote stories,                           Wrote stories,
For sales,                                Four sails,
They blew.                              They blew.
Now read,                               Now reed,
Then see,                                Then sea,
No awe,                                  No oar,
Just sales.                               Just sails.
Ideas new,                              Ideas knew,
Owe they; many.                    Oh! they; many.
Steals them,                            Steels them,
Forever sells.                           Forever cells.
No one,                                   No one,
Discovers,                               Discovers,
Fines them.                              Finds them.
Which is,                                 Witch is,
The worst?                              The worst.
Weed like,                               We'd like,
To know.                                 To know.

MY POEMS #8 'Depressed'

Depressed
By Jesse Young (2012)

I am depressed, it hits - unadorned fact.
So what to do? To rouse my mind unwilling?
Give in or fight? Join a suicide pact?
Convince myself that life can be fulfilling?
The role of choice and will in this I ponder,
How much control do I possess? I wonder.
Lacking the tools, can I go on lying?
If the illness is worse than I can cope..
Thoughts now creeping - am I nigh on dying?
Not quite ready to abandon hope.
What of memories dear, dampened, lost?
Depression may exact a heavy cost.
A life less lived, diminished, a farce.
Stuck in the shadow of my own potential.
Am so far gone, how did this come to pass?
Medical intervention essential.
No help at hand to push me through that door,
Depression left again my heart to gnaw.

MY POEMS #7 'Untitled'

'Untitled'
By Jesse Young (2012)

A penny for my thoughts,
Please take my coins, two cents,
Of dime is time but naught,
To those more sense than pence.
Money may make us spin,
And be evil at root,
Let me now though chip in,
To tell the point is moot.
Seek love justice and truth,
In here to find life's proof,
Do that at all cost,
Or else your wealth is lost.

MY POEMS #6 'L'amour'

L'amour
By Jesse Young (2012)

As if a gilded spire,
My spirits raised to view,
Your love doth inspire,
All vigor to return anew.
My woe to have me shed,
I stand upright once more,
Unburden'd o' all dread,
I cry out, 'l'amour l'amour l'amour!'