Some Rough Sketches

I write poetry, prose and short stories. "I accept chaos, I'm not sure whether it accepts me."

[youshouldacceptchaos]

Hello

Is there anybody out there?

[youshouldacceptchaos]

An artist is someone who can take a broken heart into isolation, piece it together, and spring out of a lonely winter with scattered eyes, naive thoughts, and a beautiful bouquet.

an artist - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

You are the rose that somehow grew  in the dark swamps of my soul. You are the embers that reignited every fire, and the lonely lion that guarded my heart. You are the star that I always followed because I knew you would lead me home.

looking at stars- j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

Twice a day for twenty minutes, I sit in silence with open thoughts. Within months, all the useless anger that had numbed my tepid heart was thawing with the last warm whispers of Spring.

The joy of meditation - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

I am envious of how gently the wind caresses your naked skin; I wish I could learn to be as delicate and indifferent as a September sunset. Today I felt pure joy when I noticed how Summer adored the arrival of Fall, and my heart remained still.

Changing of the seasons - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

I always find my way back here and it feels wonderful.

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After searching within, I found a way to reshape the landscape of  my life. When the other person became a reflection of myself, I began to love everyone. Our flaw is believing that we are this little person who lives between our ears. The world is chaos because we try to separate what belongs  together.

Still on my journey - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

In a warm summer morning, our legs are tangled up in bed, and I watch rays of sunlight sneak in through our curtain. In that moment, I don't fear death; life can be so beautiful if you find the right words, and when your name falls from my tired lips, I feel the ground shaking with the echo of my voice.

Your Name - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

I could give you a million reasons to open up your heart like a firm tulip under the warm Sun, but until you trust someone other than yourself, I’m wasting this silence with worthless words.

The most beautiful silence - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

How many flowers must die on your gray and lonely windowsill, before you finally discern that I love you? How many winters must I sustain in the freezing rain before I become a man and forgive everyone? How many summers are you willing to risk to follow those foolish dreams that you hardly remember and everyone forgot about?

tired seasons - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

While you are naked and asleep in bed-- I sneak away to my dusty typewriter-- and like a thief in the night, I steal this moment from death. You fear the unknown and grieve over the dead, but rest assure that when I'm gone, I know my heart will turn into sand and find a way to kiss your feet and give you love.

my heart - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

Pain is a hard rain; You choose to be fertile ground, or hard like a stone.

It's your decision - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

You wrote 'the other writers you once loved' ?!

Yes I did. Thank you for posting it! :)

[thekidsarealrightt-deactivated2]

My favorite one in volume 60.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

thank you!

[youshouldacceptchaos]

How difficult to sit still no phone or cigarette near, and observe the world around us and just accept the world around us. but here i am; still at my typewriter, with white walls surrounding me, in a place where books are at ease, and my words can pour down like rain. I forgot that your mind must be like an infinite sea;  where every thought has unlimited space to roam, where your joys and sorrows can swim together through the dreams and fears of our uncertain future.

all is here, all is well - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

Forget the heartbreak. If you have never fully loved someone, you have never given yourself a chance to live and see the world for what it can be.

Risk your heart for something real - j.b.

[youshouldacceptchaos]

I admire your work very deeply; you are such a talented writer! I hope to one day be at your ability level, so thank you for inspiring me to keep writing. Your work does more for people than I think you realize. xx

No problem, thank you for your message. I think that when you want to be a writer, you go through constant ups and downs. Most of the time you're bored and wishing something good would just write itself. It's about finding those small moments where the inspiration comes to you like a downpour of rain. When you feel inspired-- sit down and bleed on the page. (Paraphrasing Hemingway)