Jacob Andrew Jarman

Jacob Andrew Jarman Poems

a single shot whistled by
a single soldier falls and dies
a single silence shatters in
as he falls bone from skin
...

You smile at me
with your tired eyes
you hold me close
your words are wise
...

I look at you, a shell
a desolate memory of what you once were
the holes in your skin
fuel your demise
...

The heat strikes my face
scornful, violent
the flame roars, screams
falls silent
...

Consume, Conform, obey.
Don't speak.
Don't argue
Don't stray
...

i slip in and out of this state
confused, shaking in my own concious
moving from hot to cold
weak to strong
...

the lover lies he bites his tongue
blood flows to show his wrong
feeling the flood overpower
controlling, sour
...

eyes glue, unaware
sugar coated, violent stare
'i promise peace justice
a better place'
...

I was the girl with the velvet hair
the perfect smile, without a care
i was the girl you always knew
i was the girl virgin and new
...

I scratch words hopelessly, at the back of my mind
think of something to say, something unkind
i pull my eyes shut to tear me from you
my hands like putty, my love like glue
...

14.

I gave you my arms
to keep you safe
I gave you my words
you fed me lies
...

silenced, I try to speak but the words linger in my throat
My arms shake, I choke
my skin shivers, no hope
I close my eyes, tightly hoping for a breeze
...

there are sunsets more calming
and panic more alarming
than you voice is charming
but i love you
...

The wind settles
the pain fades
the dark brightens
my eyes open
...

18.

so the distance
keeps us apart
but I know
whats in my heart
...

Inadequate my words
written on the glass
my eyes blind open
my breath my last
...

violence of the past
lingers in my mouth
I spit it out
yet it remains
...

Jacob Andrew Jarman Biography

I have been writing since I was 15 years of age and I am slowly bettering myself, I live in a small house in the countryside of nottinghamshire with my mother and two brothers, I write from my perspective aswell as others. I hope you enjoy the read)

The Best Poem Of Jacob Andrew Jarman

I Am A Canvas

Sometimes as hard as I try, the blank canvas never becomes a work of art. I throw the paint and the tears and my dreams crashing into a coloured mess on the fabric and still, as always, Blank. Then I look back, as I stare down into my hands, The ageing of my skin and the roughness of it’s touch, I was born a canvas, to develop into that final product, the beautiful dream to be exhibited forever. I feel proud of the art I have created, every brush stroke, every mistake.

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