Always on my Mind

By: Jacob La Mar

Singed to the back of my eyelids,

My pupils, they sit there and view,

Red lines that burn designs,

Of my deepest longing for you.

They curl and split when needed,

Or they frill, blur, or change

The red lines that burn designs,

Take normal lines and rearage.

A soft curve rounds your cheek,

Falling lines design your hair,

The red lines that burn designs,

Even capture your glowing stare.

They draw with perfect clarity,

The way in which you are,

The red lines that burn designs,

Glow much brighter than the stars.

So if you wonder what I’m doing,

If I close my eyes in light,

I’m watching red lines that burn designs,

As if I was viewing you at night.

Immortal

By: Jacob La Mar

Immortalized in the mountains of my life, you are,

The high points that reach to the heavens,

They reach through my eyes to the stars,

Immortalized in my life, you are

Immortalized in the seas of my world, you are,

The ever changing, never yielding waves of the world,

They stretch in the distance so far,

So far your immortal in my world, you are.

Immortalized in the deserts of my dimension, you are,

The hot parts that enhance the suns rays,

Because it’s just another one of the many stars,

That immortalize you in my dimension, immortalized you are.

Immortalized in the world of, my world, you are,

The mountains, oceans, deserts, and everywhere else,

In the distance, they stretch so far,

So far immortalized in my whole world, you are.

Puppeteer

By: Jacob La Mar

What does love matter,

Even a love like mine,

Love’s not in the strings for me,

Because I’m just a puppet,

I have wooden legs,

Wooden arms,

But not a wooden heart,

I feel everything,

Love feels like a burning,

Like my heart is burning as if it was wooden

But I’m doomed to the fate of a puppet,

To the destiny of a puppet,

Forced to live under a greater force,

That pulls me in whatever direction is momentarily desired,

With no regard for the direction I desire,

For even as I speak, I think about you,

I think about the splintering old wood I’m made of,

And how you’re sanded and new,

And how that reason among others,

Causes my puppeteer to draw me away from you,

O how I despise my strings,

One constant reminder of my oppression,

Since I came into being,

Roughly cut to a basic shape,

In a mass producing puppet shop,

Where other, virtual identical’s to me,

Were also created,

Some to dance, some to speak,

Still others were made to sing,

But none were given their talents,

Nor their abilities, short of strings,

Some were even created just to open their mouths,

And when the puppeteer’s voice came out instead,

People would simply recline their heads and laugh,

And act like they believed the voice came from the puppets head,

But they knew as well as I know who controls our mouth,

The same person who my twins pretend, even to themselves to live without,

Regardless, despite they’re denial,

I think it’s obvious that some greater being,

Is up above us somewhere pulling the strings,

And if I speak the truth, I have but one hope,

That he’ll take my feelings into account and feel for both,

Myself, my twins, and my puppet love here on set,

And that he’ll draw us together in some way,

If she’s at my side through the puppeteer’s performance,

I would gladly perform under him on the stage.

An Ever-Fluttering Lash

By: Jacob Raymond La Mar

When dreaded feelings of impending doom,

Creep through the walls, and blossom from gloom,

That’s when the rights we presume to be ours,

Are shattered into shards that leave only scars,

Deep canyons of nothing that used to be something,

Anything to define the identity we thought was ours,

We thought it was ours, we thought wrong,

The disparity between wholeness and loneliness is not long,

And the time it takes to move from one to the other,

Is like the flutter of an eyelash that continues to blink forever.

The Mind is a Fickle Thing

By: Jacob La Mar

O when will I ever escape from this,

Self-made mental prison I’m in,

I made it myself and I stay in it willingly,

While every second of everyday the walls, close in.

This prison is my curse,

It is my sanctuary too,

I hide within its solid walls,

But get hidden more than I choose.

I want a shield from the hurt,

Which the walls provide,

But the silence from these walls,

Only confide from the inside.

I hear many voices,

They make me feel I’m not alone,

But the self behind the noise,

Is only named as an echo.

And the echo only says,

What’s already been said,

Since the only self to say,

Is the say that’s in my head,

I am alone.

I am alone.

Corridors branch off from this,

Prison-like chamber,

The cold drafts from these hallways,

Suck away happiness, purpose, anger.

Leaving me only loneliness,

The painful pang of unknown,

As empty as my surroundings,

I hear the echo.

I am alone,

I am alone,

"O solid walls,

What is life outside this prison,

Are there others out there,

Who were born to talk, only to listen,

Am I the only one who travels,

Through a world with such a maze,

An amazing, wonderful,

Woeful, and dull place.

Answer me solid wall,

If I’m to be locked in your confines,

Than shouldn’t walls take liberties,

To ease a taunted mind."

But there will be no answer,

No crack of a mouth will break the stone,

The only reply, an echo,

I am alone,

I am alone.

Sleep Comes to Those Who Wait

By: Jacob La Mar

In the midnight hours of silence,

Harboring a not so peaceful sleep,

Dreams come to life,

From the pathways which they keep.

The innocence of words,

From a non-hindered mind,

Regular human insecurities,

Cast to the side.

The shadows on the walls,

Skin they cannot find,

Because all that’s left to hear,

The wondrous prayers of the mind.

The deepest feelings,

From the deepest depth of a being,

Resonance of every noise,

Made, or non-made, rings.

Every shudder or quake,

Every twitch, every sigh,

Falls under privilege,

Of enamored eyes.

But still dreams lie to sleep,

Beautiful senses go to rest,

Harboring dreams and fantasies,

Sleep in these hours of silence.

Cracked Vase

By: Jacob La Mar

Nothing on earth could make me deny,

The way I feel about her,

It’s unnatural, unrealistic,

Like trying to deny that the thing you breathe,

Is air.

When the whole time you know deep down,

You can feel it deep down,

No matter how you deny it,

You can’t fight it,

Because it is air.

That is how I feel about her,

Like I can’t escape her,

Like I’m breathing her in,

Inhaling her sweet presence, her essence,

Like some kind of perfume.

And every breath just keeps healing me,

In one way or another,

Moving through my lungs, And into my heart,

Where the shadow of hurt first began,

When I thought my brother’s heart,

Would cease to beat.

It pumps out that hurt,

And continues to spread,

Through my face to my lips,

Where I gave my first kiss,

And made that kiss echo,

With meaningless identical kisses,

To girls who either didn’t posses healing perfume,

Or insisted on locking it away so they themselves,

Couldn’t gain access.

That is how I feel about her,

But I can’t let her know,

Because I’m afraid that the instant she learns the truth,

I’ll transform back into the same,

Crack in a vase that I was,

Where I hide on the backside,

So the owner of the vase won’t see,

But eventually the vase will shatter,

From the crack that’s me.

I guess I’m scared of acceptance,

Because in one way or another,

I’ve never been accepted,

But that’s just how I feel,

Sometimes when she’s around,

I wonder what it is that she feels,

Not about me necessarily but about life in general,

How does she feel about school,

Or about, her, life in general.

Naturally I do wonder occasionally,

About her feeling towards me,

Does she feel the same way,

Has she put it into words,

Could this poem have a twin,

Written and hidden,

Somewhere at her home.

I guess I’ll never know,

I guess it’s kind of like life,

Living through choices,

And the guilt that they bring,

But always daydreaming that there’s,

Something better on the other side.

You’ve just got to keep breathing,

And hoping and breathing,

And hoping she’s there,

With her perfume essence,

To make breathing, and living,

Just a little bit easier.

When Ambition Goes to Rest

By: Jacob Raymond La Mar

Enclosed in a box,

Underground where it sits,

Where never a whisper is heard,

Where no lamp is lit.

Plans sit in waiting,

Enclosed on all sides,

Ambition rests in slumber,

And eventually dies.

Still the box sits,

Age after age,

Rocks will turn to dust,

Wood will burn,

Metal will rust

But the wooden box stays.

And inside, the ambition,

That will always remain.

A 12 Month Love

By: Jacob Raymond La Mar

Shall I compare thee,

To a Summers day,

I think not,

Constant pulsing thermals,

Make weather much to hot,

But compare thee,

To a Summers day,

She holds a unique part,

Summers beating weathers,

Made for only strong of heart.

Shall I compare thee,

To a Fall day,

No not ever,

Not the falling of the leafs,

Nor the stillness of the weather,

But compare thee,

To a Fall day,

Some things can still compare,

The hues in all the leafs,

Enhancing highlights in her hair.

Shall I compare thee,

To a Winters day,

I never will,

Not the whistle of the forest,

Nor the feeling of a chill,

But compare thee,

To a Winters day,

Some things are still the same,

The fierceness of the wind,

With impeccable aim.

Shall I compare thee,

To a Springs day,

I think not,

Not the rain from the sky,

Nor the trees where it’s caught,

But compare thee,

To a Springs day,

Not all is left behind,

Every crack sprouts new life,

Each, one of a kind.

Shall I compare thee,

To a year,

The only way,

For one seasons not enough,

For all the wonder Gods made,

But compare thee,

To a year,

There are changes you can find,

All of natures imperfections,

Have been left behind.

A Future in Flame

By: Jacob La Mar

A tiny match fire,

Is enough to fear,

And I see from your face,

That you do truly fear,

You act like you’re afraid of fire,

And you probably are,

But put your trust in me,

I’ll keep you safe,

I’ll hold you tight,

Teach you to control fire,

In my embrace,

You’ll be my light,

In dark valleys,

With death for walls,

And a shadow creeping closer,

Over ever rock and bolder,

You’ll shine like the fire in my life.

And when tidal waves come,

They break my arms,

Break my legs,

Break my will,

Only then you’ll be my pillar,

Scorching the skies with a fire so fierce,

That the waves will retreat,

From the heat that you give.

Life will hit with the strength of a fist,

It’ll knock me to my knees,

And hit me again and again,

And I’ll then start to bleed,

As its fists hit again,

But your fire will be there,

And bite at its hands,

With only such a bite,

Your heat could produce,

You’ll pull me through this life,

Into the next.

Where your light will be beaten,

By only Gods own,

And together unafraid,

We’ll float to his throne,

Where he’ll see the difference,

You made in my life,

And only through you,

Did I ignite.

We’ll walk along,

We’ll see his bright grace,

Light that only is matched,

By the light from your face

And forever we’ll stay,

Through our love,

From his grace,

We’ll stay forever,

Until the end of…days.

I see all this,

From a tiny match fire,

And the fear on your face,

From this tiny match fire,

And I silently beg,

For you to be afraid,

While I stand and admire,

The fear in the flames,

Of a tiny match fire

Words in a Rapid

By: Jacob La Mar

The Innocence,

With eyes like mine,

Hair Like mine,

Character divine.

A smile like a hurricane,

Striking again,

Again and again,

Propelling the wind.

Eyes like a magnet,

Pushing pulling,

Pulling, Pulling,

Always consoling.

Freckles like rain,

Dripping, Dropping

Still dropping,

Never stopping.

Feelings like a rapid,

Spinning round,

Around and around,

Drowning out sound.

Spraying water like tears,

Falling rain,

Rain, pain,

Just to go round again.

To Walk Between Stairs

By: Jacob Raymond La Mar

An endless stair,

Step after step, Step after step,

Up to the sky,

Or down to the depths,

But never strait,

Never strait.

Up or down, the inevitable fate,

Step after step, Pace after pace,

Two destinations,

One to face,

But never strait,

Never strait,

Up or down, an endless rate,

Stair after stair, Stare after stare,

To the highest of highs,

Or as low as you dare,

But never strait,

Never strait,

On the endless stair.

To Lose One's Self

By: Jacob Raymond La Mar

I've abused love,

To fast, to fast,

The push to create,

A way that lasts,

The push to create,

Unique, unique,

Uniquely struggling,

To make what I seek,

Stealing innocence,

To young, to young,

The pull to love,

To strong,

The pull to love,

Power, power,

Losing more peices,

Of self by the hour,

The strain to believe,

To slow, to slow,

To find where the loss,

Of self would go,

Where the loss went,

Accept, accept,

In her the loss,

Pleasantly slept.

Boxed-in

By: Jacob Raymond La Mar

Cut off from society,

By only choice of self,

Guarded emotions,

Locked away on a shelf.

Anxious emotions,

Kept away from the stars,

Fear that scratches,

Will be made into scares.

Fearful emotions,

Wanting no one to solve,

Anxious to lose,

Quick to resolve

Guarded emotions,

Never leave out the door,

Guarded emotions, love?

No more?

No more.

Unrequited

By: Jacob Raymond La Mar

Feelings upon a black screen,

They make the quest in,

But never journey back through,

Like mid-day losing the morning’s dew.

Like a black hole that takes hold,

Of anything in its space,

And can even suck the happiness,

Right from a face.

It’ll turn your feelings,

To a nightmare while you dream,

Leaving nothing but,

Feelings upon a black screen.

A Battle of Up and Down

By: Jacob Raymond La Mar

The day Fire and Lightning meet,

Is the day fire meets defeat,

For lightning comes from the sky,

And fire from the ground,

And when fire comes silently up,

Lighting goes thundering down,

Fire can move between spaces,

But Lightning can weld them together,

Though fire is easier to follow,

Chasing Lightning is the final Endeavor.

A Very Rosy June

By: Jacob La Mar

The icy wind whipping through the trees,

And all around it’s beginning to freeze,

And right in the middle of a snow covered field,

It was warm, being guarded by an invisible shield,

Inside the warmth was a patch of lilies,

That were kept safe and warm from all that was chilly,

And in the very center like the chief of a tribe,

A red rose appeared to keep the lilies alive.

It drew my eyes to it like a wolf to the moon,

And soon I felt the warm summer breezes of June,

But still entranced, staring at its position,

Like restoring peoples faith was its mission.

As time went on, and the seasons past,

My eyes stayed transfixed so my faith would last,

Watching a rose whose only purpose and reason,

To be the only constant through the change of the seasons.

To Punctuate the Point

By: Jacob La Mar

A question mark written,

To symbolize not knowing,

But really to shield,

The true answer from showing.

Though used to make,

A sentence end,

More used to hide,

The common trend.

An exclamation mark of sort,

Yet hiding inner rage

A question mark erased,

Taken from the page.

Hallways

By: Jacob La Mar

Before me stand two hallways,

Darkened by lack of light,

Clueless where they lead,

Both perilous in their own right.

Either can cause destruction,

But can also offer relief

To the world they’re useless and dangerous,

But misunderstood in my belief.

The darkness just to shield,

Who’s been through them before,

The holes all through their walls,

Are not meant to be the doors.

They’re incomplete hallways,

With destruction more inlayed,

Though they’re darkness keeps their past inside,

They whisper to be remade.

Tree's

By: Jacob La mar

The darkness on the walls was impenetrable and untarnished with light. But as the morning grew older and the first rays of sun began to peak over the horizon, sprinkling the city of Forest Grove with waves of pink and red light, the darkness began to dissipate to the light.

            A young boy named Jacob was lying in bed, and despite the premature hour of the day, was fully conscious. He was lying, huddled in his blankets, cuddling his pillow as he watched the lights move across his walls. They were moving in and out, and up and down, and back and forth, making designs and pictures on his bedroom walls. He could see a pink tree that began to fade to red as his eyes followed its trunk down, until eventually it faded to black near its roots. He could see a giant multicolored Farris wheel, which transitioned from red to pink and back to red before being blotted out by black. He continued to watch the designs for what seemed like hours. He looked back to the tree only to realize that its black roots had changed to a light blue… the color of the wall. The light from outside was now streaming through his open window as if invading a castle of darkness.

            Noises started to rise from outside his bedroom door. He could hear his dog Snowy barking at people as they strolled past the house. He could imagine her standing on her hind legs attempting to see out the front window, her fur the color of the white living room walls, which had been stained with various marks over the past eight years. Someone was walking down the stairs, aiming to be quiet, but unfortunately forgetting about the creaky top steps, the squeaky bottom steps, and all the other noisy ones in between. Jacob pondered for a minute who the perpetrator of silence could be but was interrupted by a much louder noise. His brother Andy had just burst into his room with an expression somewhere in between a smile, and a really big smile.

            “We’re all gathering at the basketball hoop to play some hockey if you want to come” he spoke. He ran out without waiting for an answer.

            “Yea I’ll be out in just a minute” Jacob yelled, barely able to contain the great feeling of maturity he felt. A couple times a week the older kids in the neighborhood would congregate on a side street directly in front of his house. They didn’t own actual hockey goals so they would use the sewer drains that were built into the curbs. They, at one time had used actual pucks but eventually got tired of losing them down the drain, they had since converted to using large pieces of gravel. Up to this point Jacob had been too young to play with them, and with great longing at his core was forced to watch from the curb. His brother Andy was the best player out there. He was stronger than all the other children and faster too. Jacob was only the youngest to look up to his brother as even the kids that were older and taller than Andy looked up to him in some fashion. Jacob looked to his door where his brother had disappeared only moments before and ran in the same direction.

            Before he could join the other boys he needed to make a pit stop in the garage. When his family didn’t use something but didn’t want to throw it out, it migrated to the garage. There were mountains of dusty objects in there. Sometimes Jacob would spend hours in the garage playing. He would use a plastic bat as a lightsaber and duel with Darth Vader or use an old anchor as a machine gun and shoot the people that were invading his fortress. This trip to the garage however, would be nothing like that for he knew he had little time before the other boys started the game. His destination lay on the opposite corner of the garage where a giant tub of sports gear resided. With difficulty, that included swinging from the rafters like a monkey and slithering on the ground like a snake, he succeeded in reaching his objective. In the tub he extracted an old right handed hockey stick that he liked to practice with. It was slightly awkward to use, because Jacob was left-handed. He also found his roller blades and a pair of old soccer shin guards that would surely protect him from an enraged hockey stick. Yet again Jacob wormed his way out of the garage and headed for the front door to meet the others.

            When he arrived at the basketball hoop he was pleased to see that he was one of the first arrivals. His brother was there, as well as his best friend Tommy. Jacob and Tommy were about as different as two friends could be. Jacob was quiet and unsocial and scared to talk to girls whereas Tommy was a wrestler and popular and despite the fact that they were only fourth graders, nearly always had a girl accompanying him. Tommy lived three houses up the street from Jacob. The two houses were as perfectly alike as the boys were different.
            Not more than five minutes later the last of the boys arrived and the game was ready to start. They came in a group of three. The first was named Jr. He was tall and Hispanic and had a friendly but competitive face. The second’s name was Skylar. Skylar was as tall as Jr. but his skin was as pale as if the latter had been thrown into a washing machine and dumped in a container of bleach. The third and final to arrive was a boy named Dirk. He was the oldest of the group by at least a year but didn’t look it. He was shorter than Jr. and Skylar, but taller than Jacob, Andy and Tommy. He had a slight overbite and when he smiled his lips went up so high Jacob thought he resembled the Joker.

            They allocated into two teams with Andy and Jr. being captains. The teams that were finalized consisted of Andy, Tommy, and Jacob on one team. They were set to play against Jr., Skylar, and Dirk. Tommy and Dirk decided to be goalies and casually skated to their respective sewer drains. Andy placed a single piece of gravel in between the two sewer drains and then he and Jr. met on either side of it. The two of them hit their sticks on the ground, then against the other stick directly over the gravel. They did this three times and then they were off. Andy took possession first and spun past Skylar so fast that neither he nor Dirk saw the gravel fly right through the center of their drain. They faced off again, and again Andy won possession, this time dribbling the gravel right through Skylar’s legs, and right past Dirk’s waiting stick. The score was two to zero and they had only been playing for about a minute. Again the captains met in the middle for the face-off. The result was Andy taking the gravel yet again, but as he was attempting to skate past Skylar, Jr. poked it away from behind. Skylar passed it up to Jr. and he was off, going full speed like a bullet. It was only Tommy and Jacob in his way and neither of them could have expected his speed. Jacob only felt the wind on his face and the cheers from the other team as the gravel had evidently gone in. Just to reinforce that fact Jacob heard the unmistakable sound of a splash as the gravel hit the pool of water on the bottom.

            The rest of the day seemed to blur by as Andy continued to score goals while Jr. would occasionally score as well. Skylar even got three goals but Jacob remained scoreless. To add to his frustration the day was beginning to get later and he was starting to worry that he wouldn’t score a single time. Andy had started to notice his little brothers’ frustration and started passing to him even more than normal. The only effect this had was the overall scores began to even out.

Then it happened, Jr. came zipping down toward the goal. He saw Jake waiting in front of the goal and assumed he would have an easy goal, as he had all day. He attempted to slash to the right but Jacob was ready for him. Jacob cut to the left and stole the gravel from right under Jr.’s stick. It was now Skylar and Dirk in the way of him and his first goal, and he wasn’t going to let that be his downfall this time. He thought of Andy and how his brother was so good at everything he did, and a desire opened up in his chest to be like his brother. He thought about the tree he saw on his walls that morning, and thought about how his brother was like the tree and he was like the roots. He was always at the bottom trying to grow, trying to be just like the tree above. He had always been the roots but always wanted to be the branches. The desire in his chest seemed to have opened just a little bit more and now washed over him filling his mind and skin and limbs. In that moment he exploded down the street towards the goal, passing Skylar as if he was rooted to the ground, spinning and smashing the gravel so hard, he could have sworn he heard the gravel shatter in the drain. So many splashes resulted that it sounded as if twenty goals had been scored all at once.

            The game continued for a couple more minutes, and Jacob scored one more goal before it was all said and done, but none compared to his first goal. For a shining moment he had felt like the branches, but had indubitably expected it to fade. But as the different neighborhood boys packed up their possessions, Jacob was pleased that the feeling did not fade or even dull.

            Jacob went into his room directly following his arrival home. He pulled on his pajamas and crawled into bed where his blankets and pillows were eagerly awaiting his arrival. There were little bits of light coming in through his window. They were making pictures on his ceiling and walls. They were beautiful depictions of deep red, dark blue, and a dark somber purple. The place where the Farris wheel had been that morning was replaced by a burgundy dragon that soared over a blue castle with a plum colored moat. The tree from the morning was still there but the colors had changed. The light red of the roots had darkened and was now portraying the branches. The dark red faded to an opaque blue, which was so near black he could barely see them. His eyes started to droop and the already dark colors gradually began fading to black.

The city of Forest Grove was being saturated with dark winding colors that went in and out, and up and down, and back and forth. It submerged the city and its landscape in its waves of color. The buildings became blue, the houses became purple, and slightly glowing in the dark red rays were the branches of the trees.