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Best Poems Written by Jermaine Boyd

Below are the all-time best Jermaine Boyd poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Jermaine Boyd Poem

The Edge of the Universe

Here we are, at the edge of the universe.
Let us praise that we are alive.

Through the maze of this mausoleum,
Pass the gaze of the singular coliseum; I’m amazed that we survived.

The stars have come and gone, even their memory has faded away.
All that stands is the emptiness and hollowness that was foreshadowed by this pre-destined day.

As I stand here I turn around for one last look to the porous past.
I see the shedding of what I thought was everything, down to the last image of what use to be, going by ever so fast.

I see the losses,
I see the pain
I see the hallucinations of happiness so vivid.
As they collapse into a dimension that is too small for my mind to save.

I see the heroes,
I see the villains,
I see the ink that gave them life.

I see the future, dancing with the past amidst the darkening of the last remaining starlight.

Here we are, at the edge of the universe.
Let us praise that we are alive.

The last sunrays are fleeing,
Soon we won’t be able to see,
So how will I know if you survived?

Let us remember the taste of the tears of all we have lost and all we have won.
Let us remember, and face the fear as something turns to nothing, and the nothing takes the place of the sun.

I will try to remember what it’s like to love while I’m still awake.
I promise you,
I will try to remember the spark of energy you embedded in me, before it transfers to an unknown space.

Here we are, at the edge of the universe.
Let us praise that we are alive.

The floor was just a projection of protons that have already died.

Before the path is covered that lead us here to this beautiful place.
Take with you my last shimmering atom; you’ll need the light to make your final escape.

Now it’s time for one of us to take the plunge.
It’s only fair that I go first.

What ever happens, I know you’ll hold on to my atom
That’s all it takes to make another universe.

Details | Jermaine Boyd Poem

Sympathy For the Devil- Based On William Butler Yeat's the Second Coming

Burning and burning in the widening grave.
My hero ends cannot hear the hero;
Foes fall and get pulled apart, this card is centered in my fold.

Named anarchist, as released upon the world.
This was before blood-dimmed for every vessel, and everywhere.
Before heaven's ceremony of innocence made my last breath drown;

The best lacked all conviction, while the worst still stood passionate, vigilante. While god's fire intensity came crashing to the ground.

Surely some salvation is in his hand. Surely the second coming is at hand. A second apology! Sharply these words are screamed even from my teeth.
A demon image, my spiritus mundis is cast.

Suddenly, my sight is bleak, and my brothers and the many others vanished somewhere in sands of the desert.

Not a cloud, nor sound, no bodies here in this place for me. No more man, no more woman. All set a blaze as I stand and gaze, blank and pitiless as the sun.

Only pain and isolation, angry and animosity. I feel this as their moving slowly down my legs and thighs.

Brother, love your real shadows. As loyal as they are, you've shown that loyalty doesn't matter. But still I'll love you in spite of them.

But their darkness steadily drops again. Even through twenty centuries of stony sleep, I hear your insects buzzing with sin. They are vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, and awaken I am, your rough beast, your fallen brother.

My hour come round at last.
Slouching I am towards the shores of Bethlehem to be once born again.

Details | Jermaine Boyd Poem

Silhouette of a Dead Man

If I die before I wake I pray to god my soul to take. But if the living have fell and
gone. The tables are turning and my soul is torn. 

So how can sorrow and scorn be formed  by the tears of a shadow when a death is born . 

Follow the wealth giver the death dealer is here.

Between the space of a blink and a tear. 
Beneath the hopeless, the tired, the weak. 
Beneath the faithless, the fate missed time’s speech. 
But as this dead man keeps screaming he’s born.


 His silhouette keeps trying to morn…………..

Details | Jermaine Boyd Poem

The Parallel Extinction

Parallel mirrors hold my reflection; hundreds of them circle around my vessel some of
them laughing, others are steadily watching me, concentrating on the seed that allows me
to think.
These disfigured porous projections, needing a little light for protection, but the shine
keeps shrinking the beam.
I know their talking to one another, whispering schemes of terror and suffering. Their
waiting for the time my mind will go extinct.
I see them draw their insanity swords; I stand in the middle to face the blows. Within
the second I feel their cuts on my knees. Time stops for a moment as I stand on the floor.
Looking down at my pool of energy as it flows and it grows.
I have a faceless reaction; I knew my death would come despite these distractions.
Nevertheless I always fought against the extraction of my seed.
These illusions are my creations; hundreds of them are my adaptions. Seems they have
found my keys to animate their feet. Now they have seen the weakness in their creator.
They now watch me bleed the force that made them.
They are surprised, that in the end I have no motion in this emotional crime.
Now the draining is almost done. The few, who laugh, stop to watch my skin become, more
faded than they have ever seen.
I’m the only pale one, here among them. They all look so vivid, as they stand above me.
Knowing what they’ve done here, they all turn around and look away.
Just as they start to walk away. The energy on the ground begins to shift and move in the
direction of my blue vanes.
Thousands of broken silver objections, reform the walls. Making a new prison of mirrors
replacing the one my creations destroyed to harness my mind.
They realized they can’t kill their maker.
What was once was has now become out of anger.
They all turn around to see a new being, their mouths drop and they can’t speak.
Because they see now he parallels with what they thought could never be mine.

Details | Jermaine Boyd Poem

The Red Queen For a Blue Valium

It’s about to get conversational and just as much adaptational to the developing minds
that thought it was true.
 A subjective classification, I’m speaking about an overwhelming domination.
Of synapses, deeply rooted in the pills of prismacation, of all colors, red, pink, purple
and blue. 
I know I’m fragmenting your bones. I know I’m confusing the wrongs 
But let me tell you it’s only to cast the first stone that many have threw.  

Can I introduce you to the next level?
Shuffle your cards, so you play better.  
Hold my red queen she’s been waiting for you. 

She’s been giving me the ability since year one. 
She’s been harvesting me with everyone. 
So now I’m not just a part of me, I’m a part of you. 

Now I’m posing the question with the help of a friend. Who are you to give the world
structure? When I have been given a blue valium for your sins.  
Last time I checked your blood was just as tainted as your moment of truth. 

No. 
You’re wrong this will just always be a game for me. 
Battle your heroes to see the shame in thee. 

Am I making you angry?
My fellow man, my fellow woman, my fellow child.  

Don’t take this all so seriously ….
Literally was meant for me. 
And I’ll keep doing this, while you cry in denial.

Details | Jermaine Boyd Poem

The War For Ambition

Enlist all you anger, enlist all your hate. Produce all your aggression and drive it into
fate. Come my soldiers, come my man and woman storm the gates. Climb their fences with
your swords and souls. Fight for our victory, fight for you right to grow. 

	Have it, it’s in truth, touch-less faceless drowning with tearless rhythm. Breaking cycle
like breaking time. Teach me abrasive art, while I’m learning to be, have it, it’s within
me. Ambition of a madman or mad woman, rise up destroy tall walls. 

Produced be misdirection and the fallacious of a baby’s truth. Armies of all, six hundred
of you all, wake up, grab your feet, wake up seize the defeat. 

Wake up! Give them fear, give oppression as there walls come near. Know that were all
behind you, Know that I am here. Know that you can have it, it’s in truth. Know that you
can have it, it’s within you.

The sky will be behind you, impossible at your knees. Invincible with my words, invisible
to their schemes. They will never know that we’re coming, not in their wildest dreams.


The will is at our fingertips,
Pressurized as far as the eye can see.
The war for ambition now upon us, let’s fight will all means.

Details | Jermaine Boyd Poem

Breeding Imagination

Is as expected, to the formal and the normal experience the glue that holds my mind.
Several shoes for severed  mules. March the raging fingers typing up, while re-hatching
time. Raining thoughts of being , never slowly conceding , now retrieving memories placed
a bowl of cold food.  Eat the walls between them, callosities and reasons. Tell it to the
spoon , the moon is  waiting on you.     

	Constantly, seems to fall for thee. Heroic sheets of  apathy and air. Kept this captive,
shaven  him, her and you.  Used for being, untapped for seeing, here’s forever. Now I’ll
never criticize the definition of an often forgotten youth .    

	This a speech of thought , under candle light and ropes. 45 degree angle, hanging down
grasping for air. A reality breeding imagination , seeming normal just in cased in
abnormal fears. The power to suggest this,  my feelings, my soul, my you.  To my every
aspiration, peeling thoughts of inspiration, off my muscles, off my bones. 


	It’s ready for illustration, I’m bleeding with concentration. Engaging the norm, to show
the will of my truth.

Details | Jermaine Boyd Poem

Paroxysmal Distortion

You’re prearranged with all those thoughts of dread, rearranged for a propaganda fret. 
You are the few, you are the same, and you have been bought.
 By all who knew just what to say and do, holding change like it’s an enlighten noose. 
Monkeys it’s not the same without a thought 
	Morals distorted as it fills your glass. Pungent as you taste the last, drop of all
who’ve came and all who’ve gone. You watch them as they smile and book. The television
shows of smut. Behind the camera they still cook your bones. 
Stay tuned till this intermission, behind the curtain of rendition. You’ll find them with
the chain that holds your thoughts. 
Now as you vote for change, you shed like a dog who whines to be fed. 
Where’s your politician with his cross. 
	He’s holding all the change you gave. In a box prearranged, rearranged and saved. Just in
case his future comes to a halt. 

So here’s your fortress of solitude, hold it close as you choose. For a mirror imagine of
your thoughts. Hold it closer as you think our fractured structure on the brink. 
It could depend on you to make them fall.

Details | Jermaine Boyd Poem

The Knowing

I know, you know
Everything in time has meaning.
I know, you know…

I know, you know
Every soul in life is fleeting
I know, you know…

I know, you know
The beauty of this world is leaving.
I know, you know…

I know, you know
Even words can cause a reaping.
I know, you know

I’ve seen the energy, pass this galaxy,
Before the dawn of even you and me. 
Just know this can be yours. 

I know the pain you’ve seen
And the screams of your tragedy. 
Just know my means will justify your sword.  

So let us fuse here, combine here, and die here never. 
So let us cry here, fight fear, feel the sear of pain together. 

And all you’ll need will be clear. 
All I will need is your blood near
And in your pen we’ll live forever. 

I know, you know
No one can ever give you what I am giving.
We know now, we know.