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Good Medicine

psychedelic_marijuana_artTell me the story again,
the one about God.
Tell me he loves me,
that he truly cares.
Tell me he gave me life,
gave me form.
Tell me he gave me food,
water to live.
Fruit to vine,
fruit from root.
Tell me again,
how he gave me earth,
ground to stand upon.
Tell me he knows me,
knows me intimate.
Seeing me more clearly,
then I could ever hope to see myself.
Then explain,
I beg.
Explain how you can dictate,
what I take from this gift.
What tools I use,
that he gave me,
to survive.
Tell me again,
of how you know his will.
Tell me again how yours,
is the only truth to be had.
Guide me,
lie to me,
keep me safe from myself.
You have decided what your God is,
I have learned of mine.
Can you not just find happiness,
happiness that I at least know God.
Feel the energy of this creator,
falling carelessly into the web he cast.
Getting stuck,
shaking it off and rolling deeper.
I am finding the center,
trickling ever closer.
Let me be,
you find the center your way,
leave me to mine.
We will only ever always,
meet in the middle.
‘Jake Sellers ’12

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Posted by on January 24, 2013 in Poems

 

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Divine Truth

tumblr_lysdrfLc5c1qizutyo1_500Purple flashes,
mixed with crimson,
blinding blue crashes into me.
Knees weaken,
one strength withers,
while true strength blooms.
Learning to fall.
Fall inward.
Searching for truth.
Finding just more blue.
Clutching the moment,
as if I owned it,
snatched right out of your unforgiving hands.
Take everything from me,
I will find it once again.
Never did I give up on her,
this ancient Goddess.
Breaking all that I could in search of her.
I reveled in the sound of the crashes,
got high on the smoke,
from the fire,
built so high and with specific purpose…
I learned to live to die.
Every last breath a curse,
another lock clicking into place,
keeping me enchained to the earth.
When all I truly wanted was to fly…
Then she,
the one I wrote for,
the one I dreamed for,
the hope,
my breath,
she came to me.
I collapsed in upon her,
with little thought to what she needed,
I selfishly claimed her as my deity…
I ignored the river and steadied my hands,
shook off doubt,
cast death back to the shadows,
and dissolved into her eyes.
Flying.
Soaring.
Falling.
Breaking,
Drifting.
Flying.
Soaring.
Falling.
The cycle repeats,
but breaking slowly ceases.
Drifting,
they give in to gravity,
fingertips lightly touching,
as the wind brings them together,
momentarily,
before the storm rages on.
Every wound drives them closer,
every shattered bone,
only strengthens the bond between them.
The blood rains freely…
blending and becoming one…
when it finally falls to the surface of the earth.
It flows together,
and upward,
winding its way to each of them,
pulling them down,
into each others hungry,
waiting,
arms.
They find heaven there,
and each time it only bears yet more fruit.
Grown from soil they nourished themselves,
nourished with blood,
sweat,
and tears.
Blood gives the roots,
gives the roots a beat.
Sweat gives the bark,
gives the bark moisture,
Tears of truth,
they bring rain…
healing rain…
cleansing rain…
never pain…
There they build rock,
to set foot in,
and stay grounded there…
In their own heaven,
surrounded by the ones they love,
forever.
Jake Sellers ’12

 
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Posted by on January 19, 2013 in Poems

 

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So I Had A Drink Or Five

skyYou left me defenseless.
Tore me down,
left me senseless.
Falling,
losing control.
Losing it,
giving in to this pull.
Let it take me,
drag me down.
All the way,
I love the sound.
I don’t care,
what have I left.
A broken shell,
with nothing but ashes to sift.
Dripping,
falling,
all the way down,
kissing your lips,
right before I touch the ground.
Dashed,
upon the rocks.
Begging for just a glimpse,
before the door locks.
Click click,
goes the loaded weapon.
I can’t even,
make it to heaven.
Bang bang,
goes the closing door.
Now only cold waves,
crash upon my shore.
Darkness,
dwells here no more.
However, my wings,
never again shall soar.
A victory,
small as me.
A loss,
cold as can be.
Shaking…
Waiting…
Anticipating…
Dreaming…
Screaming…
Shaking…
Waking…
Baking…
Staying…
Laying…
Under skies of eternal blue…
Lost in a memory…
of you…
Jake Sellers ‘at the end
 
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Posted by on December 1, 2012 in Poems

 

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River Dreams Pt.2

It is human nature…
to question our nature.
It is human emotion…
that has destroyed all emotion.
It therefore absolutely must be stated…
that our ability to think,
is what shall destroy us.
Or rather perhaps…
our ability to hate…
to murder…
to take…
take,
and fucking take…
that shall destroy us.
We collect trophies of the lost,
keeping them proudly displayed,
upon each of our sleeves.
What is it that drives us…
drives us to war?
What is it that takes us…
takes us to war?
Looking inward…
then outward…
then up…
then down…
finding little more than more questions.
For every question answered…
is but another found.
They keep piling,
and all the while the war machines,
they keep firing.
We are drowning in them,
answering and finding,
questions…
so very many questions.
More need to turn inward.
Remove the physical,
remove borders,
remove nations,
remove God,
remove yourself…
and see the river.
Watch it flow eternal…
watch it…
dance.
Feel the pain…
feel the loss…
but know love…
know happiness…
know yourself.
Find the center…
expand it…
till yours and mine…
collide.
Let us grow outward…
together…
please…
let us end this…
war…
together.
Jake Sellers 12
 
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Posted by on November 20, 2012 in Poems

 

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River Dreams

The smell…
has intoxicated me.
The smile…
has crushed me.
The draw…
the pull.
Blood…
life.
Blood…
death.
You’re bleeding…
he takes two steps and falls.
Fear…
blinds me.
Hate…
binds me.
Sweating…
screaming…
dreaming…
trailing…
caught up…
caught up in the current.
No way to fight…
no way to escape.
No way out…
no way down.
Free…
flee…
flee…
before the blood…
can hit the ground…
flee.
Jake Sellers 12
 
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Posted by on November 17, 2012 in Poems

 

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Planted in Stone

I am laying down and giving in,
to the mother of invention.
I have killed every motive,
as well as every intention.
I have tried so very hard,
for so very long.
I have grown weak,
and then grown strong.
I wish I could do this,
I wish I could save you.
But not much do I know,
but what I know is true.
I can’t lay down here,
and wait for you to awake.
I can’t watch you¬†intently,
awaiting for something to break.
Just watch the war,
as it wages within.
Trying to reach through,
time and time again.
I cannot watch it destroy you,
cannot stand the pain.
Written plainly on your face,
watching your soul slowly drain.
Watching you weaken under them,
falling to the ground.
Watching you get lost,
caught up in the sound.
I have tried before,
will not try anymore.
For only you, the missing pieces,
may restore.
Goodbye,
when next we meet,
may you have rock,
beneath your feet.
Jake Sellers 12
 
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Posted by on November 12, 2012 in Poems

 

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Natural Grip

I’m a dying whisper,
a sad twist of fate.
I’m a soothing anger,
of mellow hate.
Open your heart,
let me in.
Open your mind,
please allow me to begin.
I’m a little off,
some say insane.
I’m slightly soft,
bringing chilling pain.
I am the fruits,
of their labor.
Every false prophet,
every real neighbor.
They have created in me,
a will to survive.
Little did they know,
I would find myself alive.
Stronger,
better than ever before.
Braver,
anger roiling in my core.
I have come,
I SCREAM TO THE SKY!
I tore a hole through it,
AND HAVE LOOKED GOD RIGHT IN THE EYE!
So do your worst,
do your best.
Beat me down,
and put me to the test.
But know this,
know one thing.
I have come,
WITH A WICKED STING!
Sent here to help,
help stoke the fire.
So give in,
give in to desire.
Do what you will,
what you will to each other.
Strike him down,
your own Goddamned brother.
Try to find it,
a little respect.
Each thrust only tightens,
THE NOOSE AROUND YOUR NECK!
Take her,
bring her to the ground.
But remember this,
for hearing it will be the last sound.
With primal scream,
and fluid grace.
I shall remove,
YOUR FUCKING FACE!
Expose you,
for what you really are.
A demon,
touched by the wish of a star.
A magical mask,
a villainous trick.
A broken neck,
and an exposed logic.
So before you go,
removing the head of a hydra.
Maybe think a bit,
and don’t go fucking with karma.
Jake Sellers 12
 
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Posted by on November 5, 2012 in Poems

 

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