Archive for the Jake St. John Category

The Grim Reaper Is My Best Friend ……………by Jake St. John

Posted in Jake St. John with tags on September 16, 2020 by Scot

The grim reaper
is my best friend
he walks
with me

down the sidewalk
and into work
into the woods
we’ll go

we sit
and talk
and books
his favorite
is a prick
and mine
is a fraud

I don’t
stop for lunch
but he’ll pause
and eat
a ham sandwich

he is
kind enough
to pour me
a drink
at any time
of day

in the morning
we drink
black coffee
while laughing
at the news

Technicolor Heart Slid Between Fingers by Wolf Kevin Martin and Jake St. John

Posted in Jake St. John, Wolf Kevin martin with tags on August 9, 2020 by Scot


offer expires soon
return to sender
end of today

Void Delivery

blank translucent heart
slid between my fingers
cities to the ground
we dance
between flames

look up
for rain

sky appears to be blue
same color as her eyes

Technicolor Heart

brings me to my knees
holds my kali-ma heart
in her hands
my bones are old ghosts
haunt me upon waking
her bones lay on me
yesterday’s dust hangs

ash trails
night on fire
stardust glow
a man on fire
a man of reason
burying crucifixes
in foul winds

folded hands
at dawn
held breath after prayers
shed crimson tears
baptized thunder
a new monster
born lightning
bathed temporarily
in summer sun unsheathed
sword cut through foggy dreams
languid beginnings
she rises before me
a chariot across clouds
a phoenix fresh from rebirth
in shadows repent
my sins follow darkness
she is my blinding light
hands outstretched in front
grasping at emptiness and grey days
when she’s gone

will be too
one day
a spirit
stable in the ether
across cosmos
hope resides
in her pale eyes

die again
everyday reborn
a spear in my side
crown of thorns
waits for no one
bleeding out into
the sanguine
sangria colored dawn

Three poems by Jenn Knickerbocker and Jake St. John

Posted in Jake St. John, Jenn Knickerbocker & Jake St. John with tags on November 15, 2019 by Scot

Eres Tú

I have left
the flesh
of my heart
along the roads
I travel

for you
and exposed

I tremble
at the
mere thought
of you

I have walked
miles of sunshine
and rain
simply to catch
a glimpse

It is you
that makes me
catch my breath

It is you
that creates
each smile

It is you
that carries
my heart
in porcelain hands

It is you.




to grasp terrain
on the way up
lead to a resolution
being stronger
on the way down
morning still has me
grabbing my head
not knowing
east from west
north from south
or why you’re not here
even when descending
upon the lush green
one cannot see
the road ahead
when their eyes
are sheltered
and fear the view.


Sense of Being

My eyes
have traveled
the curves
of the earth
restless and weary
as they search
for purpose

My fingers
have navigated
the skin
of history
coarse and exposed
as they try
to grasp reality

My tongue
has tasted
the mouths
of oceans
articulate and accessible
as it proclaims
conscience and character

My ears
have heard
the songs
of mountains
majestic yet serene
as they filter
melody from noise

My nose
has inhaled
the perfumes
of forests
brisk and invigorating
as it defines
my soul and being

and my heart
has been
by you.


A Six Pack of Poems by Jake St. John

Posted in Jake St. John with tags on May 2, 2017 by Scot

I Talked To The Moon
for Jack Micheline

I’m talking to the moon
tonight for you, Jack
I moved my feet
and made it to California
a long way from home
and I talked to the moon
in Asheville
and I talked to the moon
in Nashville
I talked to the moon
in New Orleans
where the waters rose
above the doors
but the bars did not close
I talked to the moon
in Texas
in wide open spaces
where poems rode
like outlaws
through the streets
and the moon talked to me
as it shined in the sky
and reflected like
the white line of the highway
my insides spilled
on the streets
of Broadway in San Francisco
my heart thumping
in Chinatown
I talked to the moon
and rambled my dreams
and my nightmares
and the moon talked to me, Jack
the moon talked to me



Jewett City Gangster

He walks down
Main St
in a black
pinstriped suit
the kind Dillinger
might have worn
the night he was
gunned down
but it now
appears after years
of brawls and bad luck
closer to rags
than mafia wear
he limps through town
from the wound
left by the bullet
that found his leg
one night years ago
at the old hotel
down by the tracks
his drunken stubble
is what’s left
of a three day binge
he pauses briefly
in a barroom doorway
swigs a pint
pulled from his pocket
he squints into the sun
scanning the sidewalk
always on the lookout
for the Lady in Red



Upon A Hangover
for Everette Maddox

One night
came to
visit me
he drank
all my whiskey
and told me
the universe
is an empty bottle




the clouds attack
the sky
like a pack
of wild dogs
ripping and tearing
at the sun
as if it were
the last chunk
of meat
for miles around
tossing bits
and pieces
of sunshine
around the yard
that I’m laying in
on my back
knocked out
by a work week
that connected
to my chin
like a right hook
from the heavyweight



for Li Po

On this boat
the sun set
on my youth
ten thousand
shine like stars
in my heart
drunken moon
I love your smile
take me away
to lonely mountain
to cry in the arms
of trees
but here
on this river
the water kisses
and seems to whisper


Nowhere Blues

I dream
of a field

in a small
lost corner
of life

the sky
pouring out
infinite, blue

barely a cloud

the sun, soft
barely a sound

a low buzzing
in the emptiness

nerve endings
in the breeze


Jake St. John writes out of New London CT, where he roams his neighborhood streets with wild coyotes.