The majority of my poems are either stored on my phone, a black moleskin given as a graduation present, or a brown journal given by my friend Tennessee and his then girlfriend, now fiancé, and soon to be wife Ally (but she was my friend before him so she wins). My poems are fragile. Human. I hope to keep them that way.
"Dusk" was written at the beginning of the 2020 pandemic. The world was unsure, which admittedly felt comforting for a person who was always unsure. For that brief moment in time I could be a kid again. I was living with my family and reading for enjoyment/growth, rather than the task of completing schoolwork. But something was missing. I missed my friends, and apart from the occasional zoom call to play Jackbox, I was lonely. "Dusk" was written out of that feeling.
You cannot be lonely without having experienced love, and I'm lucky to have the support system I did in college that I relied on heavily. In "Dusk" I wanted to share that same love that I had found--that I never wanted to go away.
"She was more than the setting sky's sun
Why birds sang melodies until they found the perfect one"
I only write poems based off of random couplets or opening lines. I've never been great at thinking ahead (my parents are somewhere rapidly agreeing right now). I just go. It's a strength, but also a weakness. Some poems I write have no sense of direction, some are strong out the gate---this poem is an example of the later. I knew I needed to write about this loneliness, and I chose the medium of nature to express those feelings. There are few images I love more than the sun setting after a long day and there are few songs I love more than those sung by the birds through the day. I thought I had finally found something even more beautiful than those things. The whole reason behind why birds sing and trees sway.
"She was a hope to be, a light I never want to run"
Love is a strange thing. It's pure. Undefiled. Growing. Changing. Not held down by logic or reasoning. It just is. Love to me is a guiding light in whatever form it takes--family, friends, relationships. I wrote this poem longing for that love. But this is only the first part of the story, and how fast everything can change overnight. I'll fill you in on the rest soon.
Love,
Jacob
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