Relic of

Just outside the vestibule the blues guitar plays, made from recycled bone.
The souls of the lost and those already gone, the notes howl and moan.

A pulse called rhythm; an atone for such a sadness that leaves empty.
That tale of hollowed tree's and owls that make storied words a plenty.

Reworking the past and lovers that have given so much of  their souls.
Taking and talking into the moonlight, in an attempt to fill emptied holes.

Those that once held together the innards of what was an entire being.
Now played out note by note upon the vibrations of midnight string.

 © Jeph Rants

I see you.

You stack upon layers of material to cover who you are, coats and commitments.
They seem to bring you power to your lacking of a real version of influence.
A barricade to keep out that which may expose you to your own reality of thought.
It gives you shelter from the downpour of that existence that you hide from.
The rampart of reason filling coffers of convenience to satisfy that you do not want.
In jubilance you boast of bold moves, despite the creature of comfort upon your back.
No guardian could save you, no love can find you behind that garrison you have built.

 © Jeph Rants

Foolage.

All trees provide some value to the world.
Regardless of how one may feel about a tree.
The argument can be made for or against.
I have those invasive kind on my land, a lot.
Long ago brought by good intentions hand.
They are hard to kill, but rot from within.
Dropping thousands of seeds to spread more.
Stiff winds will split their hollow core, easy.
Just still heavy enough to cause damage.
They look wicked and tall, begging to stay.
My chain I run though them one by one.
Offspring arrive before their parent cremation.
So with my blade I strike down to the root.
The temporary shelter not worth the cost.
Efforts never ending with my blade and chain.
With neighbors too busy to notice their own,
the air the clean is choking out their land.


© Jeph Rants

Stones of hearth

Smoldering embers sit low and hide beneath the ash of what was.
Winds blow the tops off them, they shows red, and cinders of blues.
I can melt steal and wipe the forest from the face of scorched earth.
Along comes a stranger and breathes life into my flames that rise.
Wipping and turning in the night sky, the dark brought to the light.
 No care for my sparks being pushed out and across the valleys.
They seek only the light and warmth that they know I can bring them.
Its too hard and too fast, I yearn for one to feed me in a tinder way.
The patients to let me go with them, seared into their flesh and mind.
Combustion of fuel, air, and desire; to dance in the shadows we make.

© Jeph Rants

Reflex in blue

I closed my lids and focused on where I needed to go.
They opened to find me in the oceans between waves.
Alone in the wide open with nothing but blue up and down.
No gravity pulling me towards the dirt far below my feet.
The air too thin to pull myself free from the brine I'm in.
My lungs filled with enough to hold me afloat upon tides.
A breaker comes to silence my calls for anyone to help.
The hollows fill with wet salt and my eyes burn closed.
My chest heaves as I sink again between the surging.
Ripples caused by a breeze push past my exposed parts.
It whispers to me that I should no longer fight the brink.
I do not try to inflate myself and watch the sky slip away.
Down I go with out a splash until only my fingers left.
Long and narrow my body slides beneath the surface.
Rainbows of color fill my sight as the prisms tend to do.
My gaze still towards the life above the deep I sink into.
Its becoming part of me and I am only but part of it now.
The light moves away, I feel convulsions, my body fights.
With a whisper I hear to come home and be at peace.
No need for struggle as my time lays in the sands below.


 © Jeph Rants

Dispossession of destinies.

The bark stripped and scared from the talons in cantaloupe colored sky.
Strings of unmaintained yard grass corkscrews about as if playing in the gust.
A once painted fence hides from the world behind a wall of thorn covered vines. 
The moon at the heals of the horizon the beginning is another final performance.
Hare stashed within its shelter finds the sweet dew waiting just outside for him.
Flowers in bloom scent the air and make easy forgetting the hooks on the tree.
Whistles from clicks echo between the raspy bark from a neighbors dog.
Her feathers blend her well into the backdrop of the oak thats her favorite.
The long solo branch she hunts from hangs high enough to rule this pasture.
Stalking while baking in the mornings opportunities as they to continue to unfold.
She sits and prey's with out the fear of remorse but with a specific need to fulfill.
The spoil no more aware and the assassin no more wicked for intention or act.
Chance will come for them both and luck will favor only one; the other deprived.


 © Jeph Rants

Once World.

You see I had to learn to be this way.

I once was a bastard and a whore.

A swindler with a wicked tongue.

With longing and passion for more.

Wrapped in armor as my cage.

Ever moving to follow no path at all.

I was an outlaw and a lover of life.

But my ways were waning quick.

Never the tale told to know a lady.

Or a item taken not truly earned.

My morals burning like embers within.

Needing only knowledge as its fuel

To let others in to breath into the flame.

Still perfection will ever elude my hand.

Only I now offer a smile at that jest.

I was once a scoundrel to the world.

Until I realized thats what I made it.

© Jeph Rants

Loco Motive

I can feel the boil beginning and hear the whisper of the heat.
The fury flows as my pump reaches its peak operating power.

Its not clear if I close my eyes or my vision simply fails in stress.
My fist grip without anticipation of reaching out but holding me in.

Frantic I truly try to keep on message and point dragging back again.
The feel of ten thousand wants pull the conversation in my losing direction.

Not to prove their value in view but to smash me with a turn of tongue.
Rage, its coming and I don't have the clarity to simply walk, run away.

My volume grows but not in value of production, now I scramble.
As if the lynch pin pulled and now the engine runs free of its cars.

The lacking for my worth in their way has won, and now no-one will.
No restraint of harshness in my tone or bottom to my blows.

I slash and pry ripping at any material that is the trestle that tied us.
Pulling in an attempt to collapse the conversation into wretchedness.

No words too cruel and no point to dreadful as my weapon now.
I swing away never seeing the damage I do to myself with each flurry.

My voice begins to scratch and fade slightly, sweat and pain pours.
All I wanted somewhere still there, hidden beneath rubble.

Passion that drove me decided that turned its favor towards wining a loss.
Understanding is what I sought, and merciless I too quickly became.

The fear of lonely never considered until the dark of solitary seeks me out.
Armor is but a hologram and my dread, the confirming my lack of worth.

My gut aches, my chest too heavy to breath.
The glare of anger gone, replaced by the blur of tears.


© Jeph Rants

Jusst.

• Like so many things that have their purpose and point yet if abused they twist and mangle the good intent. From pills to injections, from liquor to TV. Even the occasional curse word loses its fun if used in excess or in the wrong moment. (sometimes the wrong moment is funny though) Everything has its place and its balance. The internet is no different; it has a trillion things to learn. More knowledge than you could ever absorb and more than you would ever need to recall in one hundred thousand lives. Yet the abuse of it is not for that of gaining in that thing that holds true value. I believe that knowledge and love are the only two things of real value, everything else is just playing a game. Why do we abuse and why in ways that do nothing to progress our own value and yet instead view that which is examples of our lowest form of beings or find ways to bicker about "the rules" of the game? We need to look back and see what we have forgotten to take with us into the future to keep our humanity recognizable. A family unit (whatever that consist of...as long as it consist of love and loyalty) and real time working together to accomplish goals. Spending time with neighbors; when I was a kid we welcomed those who moved into our neighborhood. Now that sort of thing is "weird" or some other detachment mechanism that allows us to justify not reaching out to those around us. For support, friendship, safety, fellowship, or just a connection to another being outside of your normal circle of friends. To expand your circle of friends is to expand your circle of knowledge. To grow and explore other worlds right within our own. So many things are happening day in and day out that you could be a part of, that you could be great at, that you could really make a difference in this world, instead of just another paycheck. Use the tools you have and think of the difference you could make. Even if you only use it to advantage yourself.
  
  © Jeph Rants

In short.

Wrapped or warped it may be that all this is simply too much for some, well, most to handle in a stream of reality. We dream and daydream as well as fantasize about better lovers, jobs, lives, a total lack of appreciation for self. The truth of balance is it cannot be found by simply claiming to have it or continue to be so shallow in your own examination or revelations of self, that you cannot see, or feel more.

 © Jeph Rants

You can give everything and leave your hands empty. 
Remove the clothing from your back to warm them.
Take of nourishment and feed them to keep it going.
Relinquish all that you are in order to make another.
A piece of yourself at a time until you are nothing.
You can curse them for taking all you have to give.
It is truly worthy of such disdain for their lacking.
Nothing like that of waiting for one to give to though.
The want for being wanted for anything you have.
Lonely and self loathing of self and pity for it too.
Give freely and let them take all you have to offer.
Unless you want to have it all to your lonesome self.


© Jeph Rants

Do not need.

Don't need Jesus to pray.
Don't need Jesus to love.
Don't need Jesus to be.
Don't need Jesus to die.
Just a lone man.
Hanging around.
just a son of a god.
Just man who could pray.
Don't need this body.
Don't need this world.
Don't need this problems.
Don't need these fears.
You'll find me walkin
Or see me smile
I won't be there.
Don't need me for this lie.

© Jeph Rants

Are you meant

Philosophical argument, a shrewd method to strike at an opinionated target.
Make grand and profound statements containing only the slightest of fact.
An occult has begun to follow these basic methods of dialect that deceives.
Heavy secret that seems to weigh none on the shoulders of this off bread.
Taints the toils and strife in grand movements for greater communication.
A basic instinctual weighty enlightenment that seems to grow and choke out.
Penetrating even the most skilled of linguist with a subtle tone of indifference.
Nothing more or less than the honor of respect can find a thorough finality.


© Jeph Rants

Busy Tone

Saturday, July 04, 2009

Please don't call me today as I am in a foul mood. I don't want you to see the me that is out and about. Time alone is the only cure as I have experience. Go away too harsh but go from here and no look back. No touch needed but an offer would heal so very much. If you think you can help than you must more than offer. This is no sign of how I feel but just disappointment out. Its not you or anyone you know just everyone I do. Explanations would be nice I know but I do not even. Here I am and do not know how I got here myself. What did you think would be, a me always with smile. My middle finger is up more than the thumbs I give. Piss off would never leave my lips with you looking at me. But its time for you to do the things you have offered. Fix me, go ahead and make it all right in my uneasy mind. A mild attempt may be made but quit for fear of failure. Do me the way you want but I will never be that one fella. Oxymoron is being in love as you can never truly leave. Even when you do, which you will, you will still feel me. No whole mind time but the pieces will stick deep in you. I will lick this in my own way but you must stand back. Please don't call as I will just use you up and spit foul out.

410

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Little words like pellets enter deep. Steal balls that tear the flesh inward. A blast from the barrel toward me. Smoke seen to blind my view forward. A shot in the dark that landed hard. My moves restricted by lack of flesh. Pouring out are my breaths of life. Blood soaked through to red I am. Life leaves and a darkness comes in. Hands reach for the marks you made. The force pushes me back and back. A single shot to end my one big one. The trigger pulled to give me direction. Sights pointed and decision made full. Stock against your shoulder no more. A look at the damage you have done. Sorry on our faces as I fall to the floor. Pool of crimson runs from my gut. The concrete soaks up my pieces. My apologies too late to matter at all. Your decisions final as I fail to breath. Light to dark as I drift into my bliss. No time for goodbye's just a look back. Brief I see all my failure and lack of fame.

My Bad.

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Classy Man

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Don't say anything just take off your pants. You can tell them all that you had Jeph Rants. They won't be jealous or even a little bit sad. Even when you tell them I'm the best you had. Still with questions they may still come quick. About the girth and if I played you like a lick. Slide those off too they will just get in my way. Do not take too long I am up and ready to play. Glad you showed even though I don't want more. Now get down on your knees on my kitchen floor. Don't look in my eyes while down doing your thing. Makes it too hard to slap your ass to make it sting. One hand cups me gently and the other real fast. I like a girl who takes on such an enormous task. Hands to behind my head as I stand back awhile. Making sure to capture it all to stow away in file. A twitch that fills me more as you make it good. Now only I am talking I won't be misunderstood. Up and on to the counter is where I want you next. Say to them all I did you just like I said in my text. A fantasy you thought because I am not ever real. Now bent over you clearly see I am not just a speal. Do you see when I am done telling you what to do. That only means that I am almost done fucking you.