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Best Poems Written by Jonathan Hurst

Below are the all-time best Jonathan Hurst poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Jonathan Hurst Poem

Lazy Haikus #1,042-1,045

Semi-sleepwalking
Ev'ry day is déjà vu
When my love's adrift

---

Nashville to Kentucky
The state line divides my heart
So where lies my home?

---

The journey stretches
I'm like Kerouac, on the road
Or Frost, miles to go...

Copyright © Jonathan Hurst | Year Posted 2010



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Blue-Eyed Blonde Beauty

like blue blisters in the sun her eyes pierce me
through with a fierce reckoning as she looks on
"you can't keep me here, I'm long gone" she told me.
and I smoked the rest of my lit cigarette as I watched her
walk passed the wall I had built around myself
and out the front door. she walked away
with the same sizzling stride God walked away
and I'm left here with a beer, partially intact, happy with my secret pact
to never fall in love
with a blue-eyed blonde beauty
ever
again.

Copyright © Jonathan Hurst | Year Posted 2009

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The Enlightening Encomium of Grinning Garrick Beauregard, or, A Sailor's Death

No towering, flowering landlocked tree
Will weep for the waning life of thee
Forgive them, friend, they never saw you smile
Forgive them, friend, they never saw you smile

To mistress maritime were you married
For her you lived, so to her be buried
Below the surface of sorrowful sin
Where above there breathe hateful, hollow men

Solar systems spin and endless seas flow
Though they are bereft your supernal glow
Forgive me, father, I can't seem to smile
Since you died, father, I can't seem to smile

Copyright © Jonathan Hurst | Year Posted 2010

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Singing Our Sorrow

You quoted Dylan
And I paraphrased Cobain
That was our break-up.

Copyright © Jonathan Hurst | Year Posted 2009

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A Solitary Stanza on the Journey Home

The mad man whispers words of advice:
You cannot grasp the mirage of the moon
Still my fantastic foible does entice
My soft soul tells me we'll be together soon.

Copyright © Jonathan Hurst | Year Posted 2009



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Whitman Days

I lean and I laugh
Loafing on my throne of grass
Remembering you.

Copyright © Jonathan Hurst | Year Posted 2009

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Kierkegaard's Song

I once had a darling, how she lingers
And with her the song of fools I did sing
But wrapped around my wedding finger
I have only the tattoo of a ring

Love divine has a face that stares me in
The eye whenever I lay down to rest
and every time I even begin
To fade, her lovely smile swells my caged chest

Hazel is the hue that haunts my poor heart
In the hollow of my dead despair
Her name is the whisper that tears me apart
That relieves, if to whisper it I dare

I once had a darling, how she loved me
Forever and always she holds the key

Copyright © Jonathan Hurst | Year Posted 2009

Details | Jonathan Hurst Poem

The Acclamation of Young Adrian

Here lies the grave of the priest Adrian
The wisest and wittiest of all men
Stole away from our world at a green age
His heavenly heart ripped from the rib cage
By the malicious son of his mother
Something of a fiend, nothing of a brother
Caught dead in a spider's web of forged fate
Poisoned by the bread placed upon his plate
All for a Beatrice of bewildering sight
A wife by day, a black widow by night
Seduced the brother, his soul she did eat
Spun silver silk of devilish deceit
He was a man of God, of Godly words
But faith could not save him from the worms
Adrian was doomed when he said 'I do'
May he rest in peace, his soul rise anew

Copyright © Jonathan Hurst | Year Posted 2009

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My Oldest Friend.

Socrates was one savage son of a gun
He waltzed around town with an urbane veneer
Trumping the pimps and priests he passed by
His lazy confidence demanded the respect reserved
For kings and queens and British prime ministers
Without a home, the world was a playground all his own
He was always gentle, always genial,
Because he knew through his one good eye
That dregs like me had it rough enough already
He was my friend,
And then he died,
And no one cared but me.
While functional American boys were
Learning from their fathers,
I was learning from that cat.
Good old Socrates, good boy.

Copyright © Jonathan Hurst | Year Posted 2009

Details | Jonathan Hurst Poem

And How I Missed You

When to the dust my bones do lie
Bugs will eat the gray from my eyes
God will take me, body and soul,
Then throw me in a deep dark hole
But hell will have no place for me
So I'll be flung unto the sea
Where the tempest shall spin and shout
And say, "No way," then spit me out
Across the grasslands, I s'pose I'll roam
A ghostly soul without a home
Oh, not for any evil deed
Nor any planted evil seed
No wicked sin I committed
Kept me from afterlife permitted
Though it's all nice, you can believe,
You weren't there, so I asked to leave.

Copyright © Jonathan Hurst | Year Posted 2009

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