What happens next?


it was yesterday
(no it wasn’t
but it felt like it)
when you told me
“i can’t picture myself in the future
with anybody else but you”

and that made my heart stop
because i could see myself in the future
with a hundred different people
and a hundred different outcomes
but i couldn’t see you

that hurt me bad
the same way you would’ve hurt yourself if i would’ve said what i said here
my future is clear
but my conscience isn’t
what i said
is not what i meant

i remember when you said
(you didn’t say this
because you can’t)
“my love is an ocean
bountiful in bloom as can be”
i would have told you to stop it
it was too sappy to be sweet
and you would’ve laughed
and i’d have laughed
but that wouldn’t be me

how many times haven’t i been able to tread waters
when i’m in too deep
and it pulls me even further
and then i can’t breathe
and it holds me even tighter
and i can feel my head
get lighter
and lighter

i couldn’t write poetry
because with every line i was choking
suffocating to myself
until the stanza derailed
and i could breathe again

it takes me back to then
(back then, yesterday
where i would have…

…you know?)
with your temple pressed against my chest
and my heart beating two times too fast
when i wanted to say something
but then you said it for me

“i can’t picture myself in the future
with anybody else but you”
(that you said
this next part isn’t me)
“otherwise i’d be dead”
and you would’ve laughed
and i’d have laughed
but that wasn’t you
and that wasn’t true

that’s yesterday in my head
today i’m looking at you
wide-eyed and splendid, with an entire life ahead
(me too)
that i can’t picture
spending with (anybody else but) you

because when i looked at you back then
i knew i’d already killed you
truth was the final blow
(that i know)
and so
i lied
and we’re alive

you’ll be on your own again
looking for love again
and i’ll be on my own
with a future ahead
we leave behind
free to unwind
free to live
on another road

JD- What Happens Next is about not knowing what to do when you haven’t chosen someone else but they’ve chosen you.

© JD Jurado 2019

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Bad Mouth

bad body
doesn’t contort right
but distorts light
with its uncomfortable aberration
to acrid sensation

bleeds with the colors
and streaks weird

your red aura
has a suspense of its own – a gravitational pull

it’s when the words start to break down that i keep that keepsake close
because you’re one bad cutout
and there’s a whole lot of me to go around

© 2019
adjective having an irritatingly strong and unpleasant taste or smell.

JD- Bad Mouth is about being pulled into someone for the wrong reasons. Fatal attraction

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man and woman kissing together on body of water
Photo by Edward Eyer on Pexels.com

l. they were two of a kind
and totally captured
by the adventures they had shared and conquered

a pair
of rambunctious runaways
come from
some place before

he does recall
when she and he weren’t familiar
when the future was an ocean
and uncertain

swept away
by serendipitous sea
the circumstance of which
remains to be

these were things
we only chose to believe
because she had been lost
since his arrival

ll. the child
we called him

hers was unspoken
and resigned further west
where the sun sets
a great hollow rests

“should you seek truth
and should you find answers
you will follow its shadow
to an ending”

many days and many nights
the child voyaged further
to the end of the earth
to find her

at its end
there was a hollow

the child reconciled
with the brilliant aura of truth
“i know you,” it said
and then vanished again
III. what is youth to a creature who has never heard its own bones creak and shudder underneath the weight of this body’s gravity?

who has never been held accountable?

never indulged in those dubious spirits?

never felt growing pains?

never plucked a gray hair from its own head?

and he feels trapped
totally captured

he does recall the crest of those parting waves
broke upon the shores of what should be real

all at once
like a flood that tugs

wrinkles where his skin should be
wrought with loss
wracked with wrong

© 2019

Noun-the expression by means of symbolic fictional figures and actions of truths or generalizations about human existence.

  • JD-“This creature must be compelled” about young love and the allegorical journey… the life and death of the spark that ignites the passion within others.

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Big Hand Broken


 i remember better times
and think very fondly
of when we connected

 but our time is short
our times seem shorter

 more distant
i remember how
good things come to mind
but i pay none
to splintered peace

i take this piece back with me
retreat again

JD- This poem is for someone that I used to think about a lot. I don’t talk to them anymore but they still hold a special place in my heart. 

© 2019

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glass bottles on shelf
Photo by Davide Baraldi on Pexels.com

i sneak up on me
upend myself
defend this nobody to no one

i feel infected
i feel wrong
and what i feel is what i’m running from

bad connection
missed you back there
going through a dark patch
but now i’m all clear
and now it’s all me
and i’m happy to see that
time hasn’t been a passage
worth consideration

i missed too many words
and now i’m struggling
playing catch-up
with nobody
for no one

my feet are aching
my arms are sore
and i’ve never been this fucking tired before

and it feels good to burn
when you’re all alone
i just want to stay warm
i just want to go home

JD- It’s that feeling you get when you’re pretending to be somebody you’re not for no reason.


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Words Can Kill


woman in purple sweater covering her face
Photo by Designecologist on Pexels.com

preen you
from he
art of darkness
we’re cut from the same cloth
feathers of the same flock

locked into boorish
shock and awe
my chorus
if words can kill
crack this barrel open
reload it

can’t relax
each attack
strikes back
fire brands me
too bad

we’re way past damaged
keep you on my tongue
bite you with my hands
i’m the best bridge you’ve had
the pleasure of burning down
thunderous reverb
when bad words sound bad

stay inside
retry yourself
put them in a vice
then leave them in a trance
i’ve never had the pleasure
to finish what i’ve started
next time
you see me
i’ll be a part of you
i promise


adjective: resembling or befitting a rude or insensitive person

JD- vitriol





silhouette photo of black sailing ship
Photo by Tino Schmidt on Pexels.com

wherever you may be
or lonesome

 recount these words
to bring yourself good fortune:
“our will is as the ward does
we commit ourselves to purpose
our words will be a promise
so long as each is honest”

may your firelight burn bright
may the lanterns lead you home
we’re all ships at sea
you see
in search of Avalon

may your purpose find you
may you find your peace

 every piece of me pines too
but all i want
are things i don’t need


noun literally meaning “the isle of fruit (or apple) trees”. A legendary island featured in the Athurian legend. Avalon was associated from an early date with mystical practices and figures such as Moran le Fay. It is traditionally identified as the former island of Glastonbury Tor

JD- I wrote this piece as a charm for good luck and hope.

© 2018

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Home of the Knave

Part 2 of “Invocation Implied” 

flag of america
Photo by Todd Trapani on Pexels.com


i’m alive
i’m alive
i’m alive
i’m alive in 2005
i lied
i died then i went back in time

1776: that’s where i exist
birthplace of a nation
bad situation
jefferson’s quill
never meant to ink this
do you think that time can be salvaged?
i hope for a lot of things
dumb luck is not one of them
surrender pen for gun again
better than stumbling
in shoes of some other men

gatling pun
trigger finger
mysterious cowboy
undead ringer
hot tempered gunslinger
slick on the draw
scratch musket balls
full english carom
ricochet off ribs to break your phalanges
carpal tunnel boring
trigger warning:
keep your discipline where your wrist is
flick of mine own
you’ll remain suspended
inanimate pupils
iced so cool
eyes sink titanic

triple sek amerikan
kannot relate
subsumed by the purpose under which all abates
i don’t destroy
i only create
instruments of fortune
forge unreal estate

noun a stroke in which the cue ball strikes two balls successively. 

JD- This poem is part 2 of “Invocation Implied” 

© 2019

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Invocation Implied

Part 1

Invocation Implied Poem

course correction
29 years past its prime
i scream at the sky
i scream at myself
after i die
i keep screaming for help

it’s everything else
and no one but me
i scramble for clarity,
retreat when defeated,
and come to my knees
when i can’t stand my being

i fester in dreams
and bleed my mind dry
cocooned in the scriptures
of pharaohs benign

i’m all out of time
i open my eyes
recursive immortal
impossible child

adjective characterized by recurrence or repetition.

JD- This poem is about a man who is cursed to be reborn every time he dies, but he wakes up each time further in the past. 

© 2018

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This  poem was inspired by nightmares.


dreams slow
amorphous black

celestial hands
rupture this fragile firmament
our pale sky leaks
nefarious black

first crack
a thousand bleeding pinhole eyes
puncture this flimsy veil
each streaks mill
lambent yellow
drowns the ants below

moon drops
second crack
dome shatters-
after this exists none

yet every direction is unlocked
every detail tickles

a garden of tongues
caress this violated crown
laps its meridian
mangles its meaningless fangs
in the fickle fabric
then tears it all away

inside shrink the diminutive soul
that folds into infinity
and eats itself whole

noun the heavens or the sky, especially when regarded as a tangible thing.

© 2019

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