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Jo Ko Poem
All day I think about nothing.
And all day, nothing thinks about me.
I sit and I stare,
Or I pace everywhere,
Looking for something to seek.
I am meek,
I feel weak,
I find it hard to stand on my feet.
But when I sit about,
I stir and shout;
And fly up out of my seat.
What is it that I’m meant to find my dear nothing?
What is that lies beneath?
Is there something there?
Because I could swear,
I’ve caught you starting back.
Copyright © Jo Ko | Year Posted 2024
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Jo Ko Poem
I thought of you, one night my darling,
As I was laying in my bed.
And as I often do, my darling,
I conjured you, inside my head.
I lingered, oh, how I lingered,
On the image, of your smile, your face.
But more than that, my precious darling,
I found myself, dreaming, of a place.
One that we, would share together,
Living so happily, and so free.
I tried to dream this dream forever,
But alas, this could not be.
So I laid there, cold, and unfeeling.
A state I’d come to know quite well.
But that night, it was so different.
Something touched me, then began to swell.
I felt a tightness in my stomach,
I felt it rise up to my chest.
I could lay in bed no longer.
It was impossible to rest.
A pain, had never been more striking.
A hurt, had never felt so real.
I didn’t find it to my liking,
Despite, how long I’d wished to feel.
I was so tired of the dullness.
I longed to feel, if just to hurt.
I desired those painful memories,
Of our love so true, and yet so curt.
They say, be careful what you wish for.
I learned then, just what they mean,
I came to know, just then, my darling,
That I would forever stay unseen.
Copyright © Jo Ko | Year Posted 2025
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Jo Ko Poem
It was cold now.
The joy in the air that one thinks of when they hear,
“Summer”, seemed to have gone away long ago.
But it was not dead yet.
And it would not die without first saying goodbye.
It would sing a song,
No,
More of an Opera if you will.
It was grand in its modesty.
Loud and yet silent.
The Crickets and the Cicadas and the Mighty Birds screamed,
Refusing to depart without first making sure that they would be remembered.
They surely would be.
It was not only those creatures that made up this tune.
It was also the light and the rocks and the way the light bounced off of the rocks and, well, many things.
All those things that do not speak but that I hear nonetheless.
Or perhaps, none of these things cried out to me.
Perhaps I’ve gone mad.
It may be that,
Stones do not talk
and
Summer is not some Goddess
reaching out to me, and only me,
In a triumphantly serene moment.
But it was pleasant either way.
Copyright © Jo Ko | Year Posted 2023
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Jo Ko Poem
Her eyes are like whiskey,
an ocean that I’ve set sail on.
And one in which I am stranded.
Her voice is like whiskey.
A holistic medicine,
Lulling me into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Her soul is like whiskey,
And when I drink whiskey,
I slouch into the bar,
unmoving.
Her love is like whiskey.
Thirsting for it, I bring the bottle to my lips,
Finding it to be empty.
Our bond is like whiskey.
without whiskey,
I shake.
Copyright © Jo Ko | Year Posted 2026
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