Secret
JCD Kerwin
I place the plate of cookies
just right on the floor,
hoping that the world
doesn’t wake the monster
hiding in my closet.
(January, 2014)
Secret
JCD Kerwin
I place the plate of cookies
just right on the floor,
hoping that the world
doesn’t wake the monster
hiding in my closet.
(January, 2014)

Cherry blossoms at Mount Yoshino
Yoshino Blossoms
JCD Kerwin
I close my eyes
and find you there,
just as before,
on the mountain,
like I remember us:
hand-in-hand,
paying our respects, and
watching the petals
melt into rain puddles and
floating away,
just like our love.
This is not [just] about childhood.
Peddling into Hurricanes
JCD Kerwin
At twelve,
you biked faster than
wind storms;
made twisters
turn up in your wake
you turned blacktop
into neverlands and
neverwases just because
you made believe
it was far from here
Now,
you’re made to think
you’re a fool ‘cos you
only want
to feel your heart
beat in your throat
again;
maybe feel the stars
again.
because you went to Jupiter,
once.
don’t ever let them tell you
it isn’t true;
that it was a game;
that it was all just
play, pretend…
I want to feel
that wind
again,
and scare them all
when i laugh
at hurricanes.
people should
run from
super storms, but i
want to make history
in rain clouds.
i want to hold my hands
high above handlebars
again;
make the wind
jealous of my might
again;
and hear the whole world
move.
Maybe i can believe,
(once again)
that having all these dreams
is still worth peddling
into hurricanes.
(January, 2014)
Yeah brah, I’m mad.
monsteROAR
JCD Kerwin
If you say this “dream” is “cute”
one more time,
I promise I
will bite your hand.
I will listen to
the voices
in my head
and snap,
claw,
howl,
like the snarling,
yipping monster in my head.
Think it’s all a game to me?
Hold out your hand;
I’ve got a shinning knife.
I love Roulette.
You think I wanted to
dump
all these bottles,
after bottles
of ink
into rivers;
crumple all the pages,
light them up,
watch them burn like
they were only meant
for kindling?
(Use your own damn bones;
they’re cold and brittle enough
to go
up in a snap.)
I drone enough
like a wind-up toy
(I’m sure of it),
but when you’re sure
it’s going to pour,
you tend to roar
like hurricanes.
I make ground shake
with my reverberating lexis;
I scream my voice into the earth
like its made of stone.
I’ll make my mark
like a cave painting—
you’ll hear me in
10,000 years,
singing like the buffalo.
Don’t think I won’t
carve myself
into your heart.
You’ll speak my words aloud but
the voice you’ll hear
is mine.
It’ll rumble like volcanoes;
I’ll shine through you
like a billion exploding stars.
Call me crazy, but
to kill my monsters
(to kill all your monsters)
I gotta stab this sword into
the gut of all Eternity.
And it all begins with you;
saving the world
begins with you.
(January, 2014)
[it’s a metaphor, metaletitpour]
JCD Kerwin
stab the stylus
into skin
[rip];
place the paper
‘gainst my heart:
pulp and fiber flitter
[drip].
sanguine rivers
slip
‘round my toes:
mix it with
ink to turn
my veins to black.
fill the room with
keats’s breathings from
my asphyxiating
lungs
while you
feast on dusty bones.
cover your painted eyes
with
masks to hide
death falling new
upon the floor.
(December, 2013)