Biography of Jacob Biehl
Jacob Biehl Poems
Of Which No Child Should Know
I make my way through the snow, of the way many went, but not yet come, I made my way through that sticky snow, upon which lies a sickly sight.
My love for you was bulletproof. I still remember where it all went wrong, I was suspicious, you were aloof, but you would sing your siren's song.
Everything bugs me, every thing reminds me, Reminds me of you, of my pain and misery. Mama help me I've been hurt, rounds punch me with every burst,
Glue, Tape, And A Mirror
when people hurt you, they try to tape the wound, your not better, another bump, however small, you will shatter, they try to fill the gap with glue, a flood of misery will erode it, heat of anger will melt it's seams, but the mirror always reflects light of sincerties, warm glow of love will melt it together again.
I'm burning in water, drowning in fire, yet you call that a knife? take it out and try again. I'm scarred and scabbed, but I'm still breathing. you'll think I'll crawl after such a small beating?
Nail, nail, raining nails, pins me down in a falling hail. Blood, blood, runs down the wall, at least now my soul won't fall.
in times of trouble, in times of need, in times of work, i did not heed,
Rain And Ashes
ashes floating freely, time slowing, mind numbs, as the rains comes down fast,
Shun Before Begun
Shunned before I begun, tripped before the race, my efforts futile, the other too vile,
Catholic, marxist, prey, and jews, I alone, a single digit, can't choose, the groups of fives and twos, sometimes taunt me for amuse,
the world is surreal, days blend together, and inspiration is lost, I dream of a simpler a time,
Posing as a voice, Over the shout of others Even though they try, My expression remains
climbing, sprinting, running, hunting, for life
wont stop, to fast, wind cracking past, silence
all stops, time slows, hare falling to white knife
to pups i go, behind a furry fence,
it's calm for the lights anew, grow in sky
but under high moon's noon, the loner waits,
a fast pace towards the small, new, runt pup
a haste of wall to bide the tide's cruel bites,