A Collection of Poems

Shadow of the Colossus

These giants
Loom over our water-coloured world
Like stone statues of
Ancient guardians
Turned against us.

We struggle
With our ancestors,
Attempting to defeat
With effort
And sweat.

We fight
with shadows
Lurking like vacant arachnid skins
In the fortress of our mind.

There they stand.
A reminder
Of the unattainable ideal
The immutability
And despair
Of our plight.

Towering over us
Crushing our every attempt.

We climb.
We fall.

Are they who
Arising from the dirt
Our breathren by birth
(We are all of the Earth)
From protecting us
To protecting against us.

I wonder if it was always so
Or if it is not indeed we who turned.

Attacking our roots
Attacking our thoughts
Are we not simply attacking ourselves?

Forever at war.
Not realising
That we are always
In the Shadow of the Colossus.

The Lone Bird

The lone bird.

She is not moving.
She is not going anywhere.
She flaps her wings
And stands still.

The lone bird.

Is she looking for someone she lost?
Or maybe hasn’t found yet?

The lone bird.

Is she trying to get somewhere?
Or is she stalling?
Putting off making a decision
Of which way to go?

The lone bird.

Is she struggling against her environment
Trying to make some progress?
Or is she nonchalantly, unconcernedly,
Not going anywhere at all?

The lone bird.

Is she unique or is she us all?

A lone bird.
Standing still.

By the Beach

There is an overbearing levity brought by the sand, sun, and ocean air.
The laughter and sounds catch in these bags of bones
Causing them to rattle about with jittery motion.

The upturned facial contortions matched by “happily” occupied hands
And lazy gaits mosaic around the maze of blocked off streets
Winding through more of the same accompanied by the occasional mobile structures.

I contemplate the existence of a veil of impenetrability between us
That causes my own brown to molt to green.

I hold more than they’ll ever know in my hands, more than this will ever be,
Yet can it be that I still yearn to be
By the beach…?


One bird always will follow the other.
Humming past, the innocent dance (to human senses)
Startles and alarms
Like motors of cars
And stars
From their orbits.

The soft whirring, purring, of a motion so fast
Mimics the sound of the last enemy desired to attract – cats.

Fraught with agitation so great
They chase (or are chased by)
One another never satisfied
In their restless attempts to find
Some peace of mind.

One bird always follows another.
Both unable to attain their aim.

Keep Up With Me Now

The darkness of night
The silenced time
During the absence of light.
The rush, crush, flush,
Pull of it, to fill the lack,
The black
To danger.
Scar, so far, so hard.
Don’ t gum it.
“Keep up with me now”
The film on skin is not just within
The scene, the mean blown dream.
Juice, junk, bims, and bumps.
Life in dives and dumps.
Boxes and cans, what can we do?
Yeggs were born of broads, too,
Clam and wise up.
Time’s up.
Dust left to waste.
No other world.
In or out.
It’s here.

Newborn Broken Glass Stars

Broken bottles litter the Earth’s surface with their coloured glass.
The stars catch the light refracted from the pieces.

Their messages are absorbed, burnt, and spit into the universe
In an explosion of fire and pain.

The stardust collects and is swallowed by the moon
Who lets the words fall from her eyes, in her tears.

Each tear cradles a newborn.
Each child has a heart of gold.

Each heart is broken like the bottles of glass.
They are born broken.

The Fear of Ego Stands in the Way of Love

When the leaves are stripped bare,
Their skeletons protrude,
Stabbing the paved sidewalks
Like monstrous claws of despair.

Their existence is fading, faltering,
Shriveling up and blowing away.
The fall wind is cold and harsh;
There will be no survivors.

I see people here and there.
They’re walking, talking, unaware.
All of these zombies are asleep.
So why is it that I care?

Despite better sense and understanding
Psychological disturbances prevail.
Unbeknownst to me, I fail,
And l drown in my perpetual fearing.

To lay our whole heart on the line,
That is true love – something very hard to find.

Set My Soul Alight

Is this heaven or hell?
Is not knowing the point?
The world so dark and light
Made bright only by sight.
Made night only by plight.
Who fights? Whose might? What’s right?
“Set my soul alight.”

I am floundering.
I am lacking in me.
I need a change of scene
To do the deed, be freed.
Of my own cage of self.

I am not free, but gain a temporary reprieve
To breathe and believe in lies.
I am waterboarded, but alive.

I have a choice
To serve or to die
And sink back into this life to cry.

I have a hunger that will never be filled
An ache never to go away.

How can I survive this high?


I want to travel the world with you.
Live life with you.

Have tea and crumpets with you.
Curled up together inside a wood and brick cottage
Watching the rain.
Stroll hand in hand with you.
By the Mediteranean shoreline, bright and beautiful,
With our toes in the sand.
Shiver in the howling wind with you.
Staring down the craggy -cliffed canyons, fearless and stupid,
Because we are together.
Dance under the stars with you.
The warmth of the humid air kissing our skin, heavy rythyms
Sinking deep into our hollow breaths.
I want to see the sights and smell the smells
Knowing they’ll be made all the sweeter by your presence.
The plane trips alone, full of spiritual thoughts,
Touching heads, and clutched hands,
Will be an adventure worth having.
I want to live with you, to travel with you,
To laugh with you, to cry with you.
I want to love with you.
And to meet God with you.

A Portrait of Nervous Delirium

I’m building these structures around themselves,
Aticipating a certain nothingness that arises
From pushing through the mistakes
We make
In taking
A chance.
Let’s take some risks now.

Published by Jax Bayne

Autistic artist, writer, consultant, researcher, analyst, and systems engineer. Occasional axe thrower, model, cosplayer, gamer, & streamer. Latinx ace/demiflux masc enby. SpIns: #autism #bhaktiyoga #comics #fantasy #games #horror #linguistics #moths #neuropsychology #scifi

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