Jay Steele

Theme by Theme Static

Every Action

I am The Discarded Dirt From One Lonely Long Walk

I am Clinging to The Moistened Flesh That is Your  Sole

A Tributary to The River Swaying In and Out

And All Around Your Body
A Memory and The Sting of An Emotion As You Lay

I am The “IT”

The Object That You Cannot Seem to Shake From Your Path

I am The “THE”

Beginning of Your Every Word

Devouring You

Each and Every Essence of Your Being,

Every Action

[Prompt]: Horn

I Wondered Where I would Go

after everything was finished with,

The Place and The Peoples Faces,

Oh All of The Ashes and So 

Much gray.

The Horn had Broken Through the

Earth and It Now Scraped and

Tears at the Clouds Over Our 

Nation.

Pablo Neruda

something started in my soul,

fever or forgotten wings,

and I made my own way,

deciphering

that fire

and wrote the first faint line,

faint without substance, pure

nonsense,

pure wisdom,

of someone who knows nothing,

and suddenly I saw

the heavens

unfastened

and open.

“”

From “Poetry”, Memorial de Isla Negra (1964).

Trans. Alastair Reid

thanks for following ♥ hope we can be friends?

Hope so too! Will keep my eye open for your Tumbls!

Bone White

Why My bones quiver so much,

chemicals in the body keep

from reaching

The Sky

So lite,

You sit on a warm lap,

But everything grows,

Toward the sky

Just like the people

Cannot think to stop,

Except that the chemicals,

Make everyone believe

Rise and Join the crowed

Although It Isnt Much, In What Ive Written—
I Hope That, At Least, Some One Can See The Truth In It—
That I Was Struggling To Get Something Out!
Myself

From The River

Leeching Up From the Ground Into Our Bodies,

It is the Noise We Have Heard Time and Time Again,

Some Lecture Which We Have All Grown Tired of,

The Meaning was Lost,

Our Cause Lays Just at Surface Level,

Growing Stagnant,

Even as The Warm Winds Blow in From All Directions,

The Ripples Glide Over One Another Like Oils,

Are Never Really Eternal,

Floating in a Mass of Silence,

Lost in a Ring of Echoing Dark,

Particles Latching On,

Cannot take the pain of opening your eyes,

My People Are in Two Worlds

 

All around me. Do I realize what is happpening? People standing up. Perhaps it may be the only time that I can make that statement ; PEOPLE ARE STANDING UP. In the streets, on reservations across three continents. What I can presume as my people, because like them I have made struggles, four generations of my family was birthed from the womb of chaos and degrating stuggles. My people today are throwing down the cold silence, the bribed exsistance of being a native in 2012, and they are standing up for the next four generations to come. As I sit and watch what is happening threw videos and even what is happening here in my home state of Arizona, I am brought to tears. I know that something is being cultivated. Something is trying to get its way out,and make itself known. We all as one unified movent get to become the recievers of that voice!

To those that make a choice to stan. I have much respect and gratification. “For bringing the struggle home”. I will be sending my morning prayers to Chief Theresa Spence. Who is living in two worlds right now.

MECCA NORMAL- I WALK ALONE

Three Years Ago Today- Built To Spill

Image Before Dawn

Because it never just ends when you close your eyes at night,
You lay awake restless
Wandering
Casting flesh laidened images into the black abyss.
With only thin white lines,
To make out the circumfrance
The silouhette
Of the sky.

 
She understood what fragile was.

A silken strand of hair.

It was the rythym of the wind.

The beauty of what life can bring.

She glanced towards the setting sun—
and tears from her eye, brought the azure of the night.

She cradled her arms in her lap—
and she wept, giving her warmnth to the wild ether.
 
 

She understood what fragile was.

A silken strand of hair.

It was the rythym of the wind.

The beauty of what life can bring.

She glanced towards the setting sun—

and tears from her eye, brought the azure of the night.

She cradled her arms in her lap—

and she wept, giving her warmnth to the wild ether.

 

I know I am the quiet type of person. I think ,personally, I have  an acute sense of humor. I’m not grumpy, but I’d truley feel betrayed if someone I was closed to expected me to be someone I am not.
The kind of person that I percieve myself as, is silent, critical, inpatient, and at times awkward. 

Frost- Fag

The Nature Of Nature.

That Burns Insde and Out.

A Scar Of Sand, Pine Needle, And sinewy vien.

You know that they all thirst for it sooner or

later—the blood.

Shit Off The Top Of My Skull

Have spent most of my time in-doors. Not really working on poems, or writing much for that matter. My journal and notebooks have been blank since the begining of november. I just dont feel anything in me worthy enough to note down. Or rather things around me arent as interesting as they used to be. Somethings are changing. My mind is growing perhaps. Cannot put my finger on it, but I think I may be growing up. Losing My imagination. My true purpose I would like this blog to serve is strictly literary endeavors. So that means that I will do my best to not post picture media, like most do here on tumblr. Rather Ill post pics and media videos only when the time calls for it. Depending on what the main post is about.