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Best Poems Written by Jake Donovan

Below are the all-time best Jake Donovan poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Jake Donovan Poem

Still Empty In the Stomach

Hotdogs without the skin is like unrequited love,
all sorts with no where to put it.

Bravery pig with no city to save,
chopped liver makes it the same.

Beef tenderloin
and it followed the stretch to the fryer.

Medium rare 
like it should be
but still not what it requires.

Details | Jake Donovan Poem

Counting Crows

I close my eyes and all I see is you,
And you.
Broken dreams on this mental boulevard of promises left unresolved.
Complications of yesterday still yearning for satisfaction today.

I see these empty hearts full of memories screaming,
aching for the days when you walked with us.
I feel that first time, 
and that second, 
and I know there are more to come.

I can see each one, each digit switch as each day is counted 
and ours are still numbered.

Yours,
Yours where there are none left.
And you left us with this.
The ache and sorrow, and longing I wish you could fulfill.
But you're no longer here to fulfil,
Destiny's accomplished. 

Gone are the days of invincibility. 
Gone are the days.
Gone is the hope of continuity of our youth, because we now know our days are counted because yours were too.

Details | Jake Donovan Poem

What Is Love

Love.
Love never found.
Love never given and never had.

When will I love.
And who?
Myself?
Will I love myself.
Must I love myself to love you.

Will the morning dew always be there when you wake.
Will the sun always shine when the rain has dried.
Should love be so simple.
Is it that simple? 

Am I walking aimlessly, blind to what is right in front of me.
Or am I?

Is love all I have,
or is it all I haven't yet found.

Details | Jake Donovan Poem

Skin and Bones

I think I'm numb to the core,
right down to the bones.
I think I've given up too much,
I'm only left in skin and bones

I think I let you have me,
I think I gave too much.
I think I've not much left
'cept another cigarette puff.

Naked to the world to see.
So naked and bare,
invisible,
rarely I can see me.

Moments of clarity,
few and far between.

Strength, I search everyday.
In your smile,
in mine,
sadness is all I ever find.

It's all just so mean.

Details | Jake Donovan Poem

Skepticism

I've been such a twisting winding road. 
The road that only leads back to me. 
The feeling of self contempt only 
thickening with every wasted day gone by. 

Struggling through the self loathe, 
And it's me I don't answer to. 
You don't care if I suffer. 
You don't care if I rot. 
Only do I care.

And wither with every sip, 
Every shot bought. 
My soul screams a little louder inside 
with every bottle and Shock Top. 

I cry for help and not one answers. 
I know the answer in me, 
It's so sickening 
My putrid sense of self worth. 

I kill myself for the feeling of joy I so holy deserve. 

Can I have it now ? 
Will I let me be free? 
Will I rid myself of this damage 
I've so longed to be?

Details | Jake Donovan Poem

Suspending Gravity

Somebody save my soul.
Somebody save my soul.
It's tattered and torn.
It's hung in a hole.

Somebody save my soul.
Somebody save my soul.
Deeply scarred,
carved to your benefit.
Whittled away to keep you at bay.

Save my soul.
Save my soul.
It's deep in this hole,
and I beg you to save me.
No promises I'll make it out.
No promises I'll stand my ground.
But please just save my soul.

Buried deep again,
left for dead.
Never the end.

Slipping back further into bliss.
Empty and powerful.
Joyous and dumb.
I'm amiss.

This habit is always so hard to break.
Take it away.
Take me away.
Save my soul.
Stop making me pray.
Stop making me prey.

Fulfill me whole
til I spill over the top.
With completeness and satisfaction
that reflects more of who I am to you,
than you are to me.

Details | Jake Donovan Poem

Goosebumps

It's a serpent that slithers it's way through the marsh,
cowers in the eyes of the crow
as each and every move slowly exposes it's being more.

It's scales become bare, 
no longer hidden in bushel and the safety of the hard place;
And as the vultures swoop to scoop
they barely miss,
and only so much further can the one with one head go.

Vulnerable and exposed.
Scratches and tattered from the claws of it's likely captors.
Now confined in a safe space,
back into a hard place.
Imprisoned to find freedom

Details | Jake Donovan Poem

Being

I want to feel you coursing through my veins.
I want to vibrate as you rattle me to the bone.
I want to perspire as you transcend me with your warmth.
And I am down on my knees as I realize why all these things make me feel alive.

Not quite like the early bird that still misses the worm;
or the disillusionment as the lights flood back on, just as you've lit the candles. 
It's like laying face down on a bed of nails,  except that your back is to the floor, gravity no longer a concept as you float, not quite lifelessly, but not quite coming up roses either. 

Pinned yet still.
Not floating, but as each particle of atmosphere spins like the world turns.
As all weights in the universe fight for existence and power.
As all stars burn to hold their place in this place,
As does body to nail bed.
As does body to ground. 
As does body to body. 

It's all but known in this moment that at any given moment
gravity may strike again,
And that bed of nails will come crashing down on you, with you. 
Who?

Who were you? 
Where did you go?
Will I see you again?
Did you leave with all the parts you came with?

Details | Jake Donovan Poem

Mine

Reparations still to come,
because damage was still inflicted.
Lessons have been learned
that it takes more than two to remove confliction. 
But the blame is ours.
Neither yours, 
nor mine.
And now,
I can find peace in the fact that I never made you choose.
Solemn in what dignity left I kept intact.
Serenity in the little I left undamaged.
And wholeness in the love of these things for so long as we both observe.

Details | Jake Donovan Poem

Cavity Fillings

A Zombies violent behaviour is so much more than what you can see on the outside.
Inside is a battle. 
Fight, after fight, after fight.
There's a war going on like that of two wolves.

The infection, 
the virus 
that causes such a primeval effect,
yet doesn't quite kill...
So now you're not quite dead,
but you're not at all alive.
Undead. 
And everything else seems surreal.

The space inside, just an abyss, 
no longer a star in sight.
Crash landed ships.
Spewed debris and shrapnel slice.

The innards of decaying carcass, 
insides pour out when pressure is piled on.
Except nobody patches up holes on that of which is already dead. 

The burning hunger that growls verbrato.
The stomach empty,
body empty,
heart empty,
mind empty.
Hungry for not only brains,
but an insideous desire for all parts.
Your inside screaming power as you tear into the head of some naive victim of your circumstance. 

Full now,
for a second.
Always more.
Wanting more.
Wanting more.
Needing more.
And that feeling takes you to your knees.
Or was that a gun shot to the head?
Stabbed in the back?
Right in the heart you say? 
You might say it's for the best.