Biography of Jack Ashenden
A tortured Love and a Fractured Mind
bringing dark memories, present truth, alive
and while you, and others, a meaning may find
something beyond understanding will survive
What you read is not of me, but of another -
that part of our soul we'd rather forget -
but that all attempts cannot smother,
nor leave us without deep affect
I'll leave you now to consider all that I've thought
and perhaps something worthwhile I will have taught…
Jack Ashenden Poems
Responsibility, a heavy load ways me down, and makes me feel the pressure action, words - politics all a code and people's actions, all I must measure
Guilt, a passion of the prideful soul Does act as a shield to the grim reality Spiritually, we are all unwhole Victims of materialism, mere earthly fatalities.
The Magnificent manner of man's thought hardens our hearts to the way we are taught. The pure white fires of heaven's creation doused by a torrent of man's indignation.
Misery My Fate?
Chaotic thoughts whirl around in my head perhaps you love me, you probably don't confused feelings leave me wanting my bed but I can't, I mustn't ask you, I wont
Depressing my writing has become In absence of the perfect one. With heavy heart, a mistress now to seek I mentally prepare for another painful week.
a beautiful obsession wracks my soul and purity blinds me, makes me a fool to know love extracts a terrible toll as your body becomes a misused tool
'Do it now! ' I say, as hope doth glimmer - a passing thought that will soon fade away. For years I'd seen love as bad, love for sinners, and now I fear that love is here to stay.
A Twisted, Fractured Flight For Freedom
From high, the common horn doth blow, it's sound a reflection of our darkest low thought. We cannot escape - this doth confound all of he'vn and earth that follow we ought.
A Reformed World
Silent she is, silent do I find her. Sweet nothings she doth whisper in my ear. Though sorrow I knew, she gave me a stir. When I feel pain, she doth shed a loving tear.
Oh true misfortune! I know thee too well- All I commit to paper will, doth tell. Perhaps a dark side to my soul doth hide, and I, its slave, move forward almost blind.
Though time may decay your youthful features, and dark nicotine lines furrow your brow, your smile will remain like the miniatures you create with infallible know how.
My heart is a phantom of its former self, a blackened mass of darkest thoughts, yet when I look upon you and your bad health I begin to remember all that you have taught.
A mistress is the poet's ultimate desire, only she can bring creativity to fullest fire. A poet without a mistress is incomplete, and perfect writing an impossible feat.
Death By Poetry
Oh why do I mourn the loss of my life? this mediocre poetry does say. For I am alive and suffer no strife and so far have kept the reaper away.
Though time may decay your youthful features,
and dark nicotine lines furrow your brow,
your smile will remain like the miniatures
you create with infallible know how.
Though wracked with the horrid pain of old age
our legs may keel and our arms lose strength,
your inner power will remain on page,
a testament to those who loved a friend.
Amazing futures lie ahead for us