My friend, Jerme


This one is about a friend that has recently come into my life. A perplexing being. I’m trying to understand him as a person, but am coming to terms with the fact that I may not ever entirely.

Existence 1

Image by Vincepal via Flickr

He’s brilliant, book smart.

Bright, but unglowing.


if he gets the Floor.


Not ugly, not beautiful.

No sadness, no joy.

He just exists,

and that’s enough

for HIM.


Thee single solemn soul

I’ve yet met

to NOT care to seek



Does he possess

a lesson to be learned?

Are our concerns

to love and be loved




A MINISCULE particle

of our existence

chalked up to

Human Nature?


He’s content

all alone.

No warm body

next to his

in BED.


I imagine “LONLINESS”

poetically described

to him—

He’d scratch his head,

cocking it slightly

to the side.


Life to him is





Perhaps this perception

isn’t hard & harsh.

Just maybe

It’s what we should all see.


For in his eyes it’s simple.



People, places, things—

All just NOUNS, to his being.


Looking at a still life,

What does he see?

“A bowl of oranges,” he says.

Are you fucking KIDDING me?


Maybe his intelligence

reaches outside my mind’s realm.

For his thoughts are


black and white.

Mine are a



swirling cloud.


About AmbleDamsel

Truthfully, I’m writing this blog because I’m too much of a wimp to share my poems with most people I know. I’m hoping this blog will be a way to get honest feedback about them, without offending anyone. I generally prefer to write privately, and with pen and paper. There’s just something much more therapeutic & enjoyable about actually handwriting something–a better feeling than any lousy keyboard could ever give me! People who inspire me: John Lennon, Keri Smith, Sabrina Ward Harrison, Conor Oberst, Ethel Kennedy, Brooks Strause, Charles Bukowski, Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, E.E. Cummings, Charles Dickens, Henry Darger, and Orly Avineri.

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