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Best Poems Written by J.J Bell

Below are the all-time best J.J Bell poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Metaphysical Thoughts

II

I am writing this segment in free-form poetry. Structureless rhyme schemes.  

I think lost myself again.
my thoughts spiral.
in the whirlpools of my mind
might seem like a cliché to say
but I really can’t ever unwind.

However today, 
On one autumn evening, and not a particularly memorable one either, 
stood under a pink half-moon, to take a breather.
a temperate fall breeze, finished the blunt, soul-felt light 
in the stillness of the night, I was enraptured by the essence of the atmosphere. 
instilled within me a sense of solitude, stood on two feet, the mind took flight. 
the shadow of my body plastered still on the concrete —
imagine disquieting muses de Chirico.
this allowed a man to be with his thoughts, 
lately, time been passing in light-years
andromeda in my head they don’t see what I see 
trapped in society’s monotony daydreaming of an escape
to some normalcy can be a cell for the mind’s full potential 
even Charles Darwin knew for the survival of the very human race
discomfort and evolution are essential  
looking at the sky trying to visualize future realities or dreams I feel halfway there  
against the grain mentality not the type for handouts I want my dreams tangible  
27000 days you have to live do you comprehend that I wish I could 
Shout it thorough this pen, and drop out 
and give up some days, but you wanna die living in regret and your same ways?

Details | J.J Bell Poem

The Forest of Generations

For Professor Shea’s Class On Cultural Globalization

“The Forest of Generations”

The forest of generations
Each tree with a tale to tell
Upon the rings of their foundations
Where each history dwells

Tress of new and trees of old
Wear leaves like feathers
To display their colors in bold
A culture’s greatest treasures

Peaceful lives preserved
Fallen seeds writing new histories
Until the process was disturbed
By unexpected deliveries

A new species brought aboard
And spread among the trees
Where years’ traditions are stored
We’ll replace them with these:

That eat away at the leaves
Like a caterpillar without a cycle
These cultural thieves
Stole by their arrival

Although free of evil
Just a species displaced
A threat to the people
When their culture’s defaced

As they die away
Their colors become one
A global shift underway
Their histories undone

For every leaf that falls
A culture’s dead and gone
Hearing the distant calls
As we approach the dawn

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Moonlight

I
Moonlight; shining upon thy collied, weary heart. 
Her visage, so doleful, scarred with an age of many failures. 
Her eyes, like a dilapidated sea, serving as residence to only Death, and his many friends. 
But if 't be true thy continueth to gaze at the surface, and behold beyond darkness, thee wilt discover what wast shrouded by thyself;
A red, luscious, rose, which releases a boisterous, fragrant aroma to all 
Unblemished by time, by age, by failure; by anything.
Her wonderful aroma seeps through the dark, scarred surface of the moon.

(2018)

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Venus I,Ii

Venus I, II 


                          I
Moonlight shone upon a withered, weary 
heart, warped and scarred by a life of many
failures and dreams unfulfilled. 
now she is a slave to her own thoughts, 
and undying feelings of indifference. sitting 
in a carcass of wasted time. like the 
persistence of memory. 
the master of puppets pulls on her 
heartstrings.
tells her to take that
forbidden road. 
she lives on the dark side of the moon.
yet her volcanic beauty is like a rare 
celestial body. 
Galileo laid eyes upon for the first time 
through a telescope back in 1610,
and sketched into our history books 
for future human beings to gaze at 
and be marveled by.
this is what her beauty is like. 
Venus is not merely a person, or planet —
she is consciousness. 
her eyes are like Egyptian pools,
they show a reflection of her eternal soul
which flows like the Nile; 
it could give life to entire civilizations.
this is the source of her beauty, 
a fiery, inexplicable warmth 
fueled from the embers 
that remain burning in her caged soul—
unblemished by time, by age, 
and by failure. 
Venus is not merely a person, or planet 
she is the very essence of life, 
and its representation of beauty.
Venus is the trees and the flowers unaware 
of the peace they bring to humans.
Venus may not see it, though she glistened 
through the cosmos with a radiance that 
threatened even that of the moon and the 
sun's. 
                                                       II
                            yet to her, time is a grain of sand trickling 
		                          down in an hourglass
			            	       with every 
                                                 moment
                                                 in her life
                                                 and every
                                           moment to ever be
                          only as meaningful as these grains of sand.

she doesn’t see the big picture, 
she doesn’t see her beauty, 
and these are both great tragedies. 
still, she stays on full display in the night sky,
the girl who was afraid to be,
Venus…

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Canopy of Dreams

A lurking shadow lies 
Darkened eyes gleam 
In the dust, it spies
Under
The canopy of dreams 

Sharpening teeth 
As if they were blades 
An emptied sheath 
A lovely serenade 
Forming schemes 
Under
The canopy of dreams 

The pursuit of a touch 
To make skin icy cold 
With a frenzied clutch 
You can be controlled 
If it rips the seams 
Under 
The canopy of dreams

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Absurdity: a Rhetorical Question

I 
it was midnight in a perfect world
as a child my mind swirled
with ideas as domestic troubles stirred  
from an early age, innocence unfurled 
how can a man learn to live happy in this world
as to which we were so randomly hurled?

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Sing Yourself a Lullaby

Sing yourself a lullaby
Rock yourself to sleep 
A night train passing by 
No one to hear you weep 

Pillows fold in half;
A blanket for the head 
Every sound a laugh;
A tantalizing dread 

Minute after minute 
One by one in line 
Turns without a limit 
Tracks without a sign 

Sing yourself a lullaby
Squeeze your teddy tight 
Time for another try
For everything will be alright

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For Keats

I
As I gaze upon thou face of sheer beauty 
I begin reminiscing about the times with thee  
The times at which hour vigor shone upon us like the oriental sun 
The times at which hour worries wast but a grain of sand 
The times at which hour unadulterated happiness wast present 
This feeling of happiness now shrouded by time 
All that remains is one frozen moment 
One thing to recall my love...

(2016)

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Nowhere Landscape

I
San Clemente is always a nice place and tonight, she was something different.
wound up by a creator’s hands to such beauty around how could one be indifferent? 
I vividly remember how beautiful the full moon was, while a slight breeze was blowing,
serenity in the form of waves crashing; the pier empty as the moon was glowing.
on that cloudy night, into the black backdrop, battering breezes sent chills up my body
put on my coat, and in my ponderance, setting like J Gatsby at the dock less gaudy, caught the moonlight reflecting off the waves.
it formed a line that seemed to go on forever, even though the dense coastal haze.
the night looked like the cover of  Ride’s Nowhere I suppose, and
I wrote this poem so that this moment in time shall never decompose

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Soothsayer's Recompense De Chirico

I
Clouds of dark smoke billowing away 
The beginning of nature's decay
The marble freezing within the fray 
A brick wall obstructing the pathway   
On dry ground shadows forever lay
Waiting for the sun to shine their way…  

(2017)