Jason Pacheco

Jason Pacheco Poems

Some kind of mumbling out
In the hall.
A Multi-language hum from one,
To another,
...

I love light.
Waves of sight, particles unite.
When out of sight, some feel fright,
I feel delight.
...

Read Starry Rhymes
At the gallery
Lots of people
Really cool
...

Crustacean smell
Salty wind
Birds sing
Shells
...

Sale on guppies
We have a sale on guppies
We sell guppies
Guppies for sale
...

6.

I solid continuum
Perusal
Tolls of telling
...

I live on the top floor
Of a latent coil,
Ready for a sound style
Tattered and spent
...

8.

Sliding on the Sabbath
Sipping on some juice
Stifling the build up
Sitting on the roof
...

On the way out the door I saw a letter
in the mailbox
reminding me I was always alive,
that tomorrow is always tomorrow
...

The Best Poem Of Jason Pacheco

Seven Four Five

Some kind of mumbling out
In the hall.
A Multi-language hum from one,
To another,
With the smell of my cat.
I can see the large cross on top of Notre Dame.
Lots of vibrations mixed here,
Shifting from a shape called Earth.
This city is a collage of warped life,
Burned by a hypocritical sun.

Shaving as well as the daily rinse off.
I want to smoke,
To release some dirt.
There are barbed wire fences
Tied to the veins in my body.
Waiting for A-man to bring the Smurf houses,
Of the Holy.
The waiting game is the hardest part.
Already made a few calls.
Don't want to be a pain,
It ruins the glory that comes with the expansion.

Let freedom ring.
Happy Birthday America, you crab you.
Waiting……
Took an excursion,
Prepared salad,
Dig?

Ate down some pies,
Now the movement is great.
The movement.

Clowned webs cover the sidewalks,
Pleasant Street is crimped.
A Cambodian woman has vanished into the wall.
There is no shovel here,
To condense the smitten turnstile.
I repent and consent for a dashboard to pounce on,
Or, a talon to pick an itch on my organ topper.
There is only this corridor,
Leading to seasons with doorways to other seasons.
Minions,
A suffered minion takes a hand towards the sun and hopes that it will come close enough to warm my dreams.
My dreams, My dreams.

So,
No parts lofty,
I sense the Lord!
The world seams thick
With milkshake winds,
Could it be a boo in a who?
Who knew?
This place is a zoo.
Notes ring out in my head,
Symphonic sonic hum.
Enough.

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