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Best Justin Bordner Poems

Below are the all-time best Justin Bordner poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Justin Bordner Poem

To Be With You -

I love you,
that's not hard for me to say,
its not a prediction, or a reflection, it just is
a motion in my heart's ocean,
an ocean named Odyssey
a color called True For You,
I don't want to hide that from you like sparkle from a jewel,
hiding love is a difficult game,
an invisible flame starving for the fame of your name,
and sometimes love can get lost in the playing fields,

My soul can't wait 'till another lifetime to spark on your's,
my body won't survive the well wishes of Eternity's elasticity,
the gravity of my greed for you will not escape the orbit of obsession,

I can't afford another lifetime, another baptism in Beauty's bemusement,
Time will not outflank my love for you,
graves & guesses, epitaphs & epiphanies would only bruise my passion,
a will power refusing to withstand the winks of the clock towers torment,
the thick wick of my wonderlust must combust now or never,
we need to turn winter into spring,
flip silver into gold,
to make touch our bread,
push pink into red -

J.A.B.


Details | Justin Bordner Poem

Yellow Press -

He undresses rumor to reveal lies
this is how the desperate man cries,
Extra Extra he tries to sadden ya,
a bundle of rancor rambles from the shambles of his shame
finding form on a page of purely personal pathos
what he can't have he taunts,
flaunts falsehood as fact in commiserating style,
vulgar and vile such as pornographic propaganda
designed to compell despair with poisened air,
what does he care, loyalty he knows not how to share,
decorum just a ditch in the swamp of his heart,
hurt hurt hurt is the mantra of his yellow emotion
a mud temple is his refuge,
burn love, ravage respect, ruin reputation
is the curve in his grimace, the grime in his game,
even the news stands have rejected his rank rubbish,
a character assassinator eliminated the Poet's assembly,
take your delusional drama to the closet playa
hang it on a hanger of humbled heresy,
your rusty razor shall not go "haymaker" anymore
remain in your "hayfever" brought on by Truth's retribution,
a wedge maker is your legacy, a virtuous man your fallacy -

J.A.B.


Details | Justin Bordner Poem

Heat Source Hunger

Wonder not
if my thoughts are thrilled and twisted
daily and deeply by the albums of your ways,
I succumb severely to the impulse of imminent interplay
so dumb with joy, grateful for the fusion of our fevers,
I've never let you leave my mind,
you haven't finished eating your portion of my heart,
there is so much more for you, still in my chest, on my eyes,

I am your rare happiness,
that bare beast of a woman's best distress,
trigger your storm sirens with a single drop of Goodbye,
serve you with the most sensational sadness,
replenish your youth with an admiration that won't die,
knowing that I am not a makeshift man, nor a loyalty within a lie,
that I'll punish your pulse with peppered pleasure
because I can, because I must,
pull your hair just to hear those breaths beg for big flares,
treat the smooth and sweet lascerations of love's lament
butterfly cut into the surface of a girl's search for sincerity,
we get intoxicated on performance of personality,
buzzed beautifully from believing in the addiction of adoration's affliction,

We know we can handle one another's hurt
as warriors bleed hard because they sell themselves the sacrafice,
that we can process history with humor by breaking the shame of blame,
synthesize epiphany with sympathy to nourish symphonies of Divinity
we realize that intensity is the regal implement of our tournament, 

I like it when you tell me the tough truths,
that you want to be loved for more than one reason,
that being respected in segments isn't enough,
that he will never be me,
that words can outlast the disappointment of distance,
that the world overwhelms you when you most expect,
that sometimes you'd rather be a heart attack
before being a pretty song or a favorite memory,
I understand your need for absolute affection, absolute attention,
lets allow our love to be confusing, dazzling, on the verge of villainy, 
it isn't steady as a sleeping heart beat
or ready for celebration like a " gee wiz " graduation,
it is our Love, and its undefinably volatile and lovely,

Your cosmos gives a question that feeds one answer,
that love is ours, safe in the arms Armageddon, 
I remember the ember of our future
spazing on the hearth of fresh earth,
don't ever miss me Babe, just keep lovin me -

J.A.B.


Details | Justin Bordner Poem

The Truth About Truth -

Truth burns at the center of all occurrance,
it is a heat that motivates appettites to enlarge,
truth is a multiplier of quests, 
satisfaction always arrives at the porch of a new path,
truth does not reveal endings, only beginings that behave
like currents pushing towards a shore,
truth demands stamina from the finder as well from the seeker,
it dashes in delight from the tired,
indolence receives no invitation from truth because laziness is a debtor,
a fish with no gills,
credit walks not from the bank steps of truth,
one must exchange, transact with it, as wanting is to worth,

Truth holds strength in one hand and suffering in the other,
He gives quarter and meal to surviving artificers who are organizing
their talents for future enterprise,
to the brigand and beggar He puts on a pewter plate
bland beans representing distance,
disillusionment preceeds the knowledge of utility because
new truth means fallacy is an ancestor,

an anthropologist is truth, observing your traits,
orbiting the ability of your judgement,
some of Truth's revelations are more expensive than others,
sometimes He will take your Past and grin like a haughty antique dealer,
truth will invest in your Future as a gambler revisits old glory
speaking fresh fortunes in cold ears,

He is an opportunist incessantly offering information for spirit,
without the ignorant truth becomes a vagabond in a vineyard of sweet rust,
the secret of truth is that it is ours
if we wish to be honest with ourselves,
truth is the inheritence of the strong who know how to make it,
oppossed to those waiting for it -

J.A.B.


Details | Justin Bordner Poem

Smile Of A Thousand Songs

A spirit is what it is,
sharing yet selfish, starving yet sated,
a humble sky that can erupt into a hurricane,
can be an avalanche on the mountain of confidence,
it will be a maternal calm in a moment of marbled mania,
or shatter the laughter of happiness with the pompous scorn of suspicion,

This element of unapologetic adrenaline is magnetic,
tickles our tastes like a feather of silky sweetness,
shapes the clay of a body's cunning with lust lost in a thirsty lick,
bestows bravery on Jealousy and can make a fool of Devotion,
Destiny is the web of it's dance, Fate the funeral of it's expectations,

Designs dreams and shares tears with Death,
weddings and wars, crimes and kindness are famiar family,
Joy, the breakfast of it's youth,
Determination, the dragon of it's desire,
walks like weather too cool for sunshine
breathes like butter burnin in a salty simmer,
the only force known
to be capable of creation and destruction with equal ease,
Love is the name, Life is the game,
cinnamon on the breath of suspense -

J.A.B.


Details | Justin Bordner Poem

Song Of A Cherokee Princess -

Cherokee chamber,
where a pow wow stampeedes preconceptions of inheritence,
from Her beaded neck charms of chance & chains of change
glisten from opulent offerings of roots, corn & lavender ablaze
on an alter of unworked stone mantled with skins strong beasts knew,

She is a " Stomp Dance " Queen with an owl as a friend and a spider as assassin,
with rattlesnake ribbons around Her wrists and prayers in Her braids thick with traditions,
the walls of Her teepee painted with the pigments of buffalo blood & sunflower pollen,
portraying a history hewn from customs known to Spirits and men alike,
the " Stomp Dance " Queen speaks for Her People and sings from the stars,

I found this Tribe, not in Appalacia nor on a prarrie stage but in the smoke of ceremony,
the Cherokee Princess has rattlesnake teeth tied to Her thigh & turtle shells upon Her hips,
She played the rabbit on the scene, then the wolf, if you know what I mean,
celebrated by the warriors as a tomahawk maker,
praised by the medicine men for Her Visions,
and feared by the Elders because of wrath that may follow Her steps,
the " Stomp Dance " Queen is a Princess, She is a Cherokee with a song Her own -

J.A.B.


Details | Justin Bordner Poem

A Barn's Bridge -

A girl gleams in her ink dreams
sittin against barn wall sqeakin like a soul freakin,
voices from an unpopulated country
dancin and rockin on her soul's farmland stage,
lyrics and long hair wavin one day in "big city lights" ,
famous without frontin, rebellious without shoutin,
grafetti on those nails like she's writin forbidden Art,

gotta Bible in her back pocket and a tongue like a rocket,
climbin trees catchin river breeze
square stompin around daisies and dust,
magazines, studios, clamoured for contracts,
the sunrise came with pay checks,
jealousy raged from people rivited in righteousness,
tickets got ripped, a kid got gipped
but that peacock quill never left her hip -

J.A.B.


Details | Justin Bordner Poem

A Lion Looms Listless

A cold lion roams, doctrinaire and sterile,
The expanse of Africa offers him no sanctuary, the Saringehti no salvation,
He can only smell the scent of his pride now, his cubs shun him,
Repelled by needless roars, the revolting rants,
Tail tattered, biten by jackels at will,
His nose bit and beaten from battles better avoided,
Soul tethered to a label, only a title, "King of the Jungle" ,
Fleas and insects of all sorts find haven in his muddy mane
once so puffed and wide like a thunderhead trampling over Tanzania,
I hear him in the twilight, lonely, unsated and undesired,
Paranoid about a life that does not seem to love him,
His heart became a desserted Athens, a broken, rigid column slumped on the earth,
He wanders near the Nile, nearsighted and nervous
As an Egyptian boy of ancient lineage stalks him sensitively
Putting the speartip to his temple saying,
I see your ribs, your broken paws, your futility,
I will now deliver your soul unto the cool night,
The spear is launched with a certain bloodlust
piercing behind the shoulder blade, his heart hollers
with the cry of scarred suprise, the lion stumbles and pants
vanity no allowing blame for lack of vigilance,
the boy trots to the spot, kneels in token reverence
telling him, sip the black puddle of your error, as eyes fold ever shallow,
let me feed you these apples of arrogance
so to quiet your grievence, to sooth your ego before final sight,
there is no shame in being slain by a Pharoah King, old lion,
I shall wear your teeth as a timeless trophy of tragedy,
Emblematical of Pride gone on too long,
may the spirit of Herodetous teach this lesson to a new breed -

J.A.B.


Details | Justin Bordner Poem

Star Scream

I want you to feed me my only fear,
to make a ritual of the ruddy rain I hear
deluge my dreams with Love's broken mirror,
our inspiration fragmented into faithless drear,
to deliver the division of two hearts once near
on a cutting board of Venu's neurotic nightmare,
take me to where yearning is taunted by stoic stare
to the edges of erotic emotion wounded from passion threadbare,
lead me to fear's chasm split warm and wide on a Goddes's tongue of despair,
I need that soul spasm hyperextending the phantasm of my boyish beliefs unfair,

If I could fall in love with you again
a star hunter I'd be, feigning capture in your solar reign
equiped with erogenous eon, violating your violet virtue from within,
I would be your fuel of fury and flirtation, speedily skipping across a galaxy dim,
an unstoppable windfall of cosmic conquest bursting from our indefatigable union,

If I could see you one more time in truth
you'd be a Queen, lean like love keen, sexy as sabotage with no proof,
intuiting when to kiss, and when to kill, dressed to thrill in vermillion fox,
a King me be, knowing how to war, and how to water the woman that gives me shocks,
would throw roses and lava into a world desperate for heros gone mad on Creativity's roof,

I don't know how Love says goodbye,
I don't know how it sounds, how it moves
or know when the Death Dance begins or ends,
how deeply does Love get buried in the pits of private agony,
how will I remember the anniversary of our Dia de Muertos,
will you paint your face like a sugar skull and grin from misery made merry,
a grave robber I will be, rubbing fragrant memory on the lips of our love gone by,
feeding you the fear you've taught me -

J.A.B.


Details | Justin Bordner Poem

Confessions In Her Confidence -

I know where she prays within the necessity of nightfall
inside the Poets' Pantheon, an isolated Idol
they all came, close as envy can to care,
flowers and jewels from all the conquered territories
laid quietly at her toes,
Marco Polo would recognize her as exotic medicine
travel for centuries to have a single dose,
break your heart as a spoil of war that words could justify,
Leonardo slave to invent new paints for her grin of grace,
Janis Joplin shake out lyrics of how nobody could deny her dreams
without consequence of catastrophe,
demolish you with an ever deepening desire,

she needed a man that could hold the heights of her heaven,
a man capable not of sacrafice for a taste of her starlight
but one offering partnership in the placement of orgasm's origin
giving forbidden sensation to her solar system,
so accustom to receiving love from the enamoured
amour as a dialect was nearly extinct in her essence,
a Goddess so tired of inspiring, so exhausted, almost bled out,
an Olympiean she wanted, an equal for Eternity,
soon worship would do no more for her,
she needed a man willing to receive her sacrafice,
able to take on her needs,
oh the beauties she may lay in his arms -

J.A.B.  This poem has been made for Poet Destroyer's 
100 % Nature Contest - 2013


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