Biography of Jack Shimmin
If anyone's actually interested I'm a student in Derby, UK, taking my A-levels Woop ^..^
Only started writing poetry in 2009, wrote my 1st poem on a blackberry phone while watching Extraordinary people at stupid o'clock in the morning: P
Since my 1st poem I got into the swing of taking any form of inspiration, anything that gave rise to any inkling of emotion and forging scenarios of the said, using words.
Id always been a wordy type anyway, just took a while to find a way of using it ^^
Anyways, give my stuff a read, comment, rate, whatever, just enjoy it if you can: 3
Jack Shimmin's Works:
Jack Shimmin Poems
Regain Your Conscience
Feel a softer surrender, crash upon your own shores; not the districts of the vendor, creator and sender, not the doors to under-scorers and saboteurs. Further back the fighting conscience, a rebellious core; glowing red in the face of the free absence, again missing the one vital score. Where is my mind? Faces of such glory, hidden tyranny in its veins; masking an ability for the telling of stories, my story, instead lingering pains; mocking the very ground we tread.
A Different Tide, This One Of Grass
Dark as my shrouded escort, lead to this vastness; amidst an atmosphere of a particular sort, rates of speed and heart double in fastness; influenced under this great light. Black figures surprise then diminish tranquillity amidst the chaos of my mind; the element held my focus, with no foreseeable finish, still; this place gave much sight to the blind.
A Sweeter Perception
There is no need to observe your implications, no need to watch and survey your sensations; no need, but to live, breathe and do as you wish, move to your sound as your sound moves with you; take that which you give and you shall bear no blemish, follow not another's clue; but create your own sweeter surrender.
Where One Wish Not Tread
Too far from where I want to be, behind scattered trees; amongst these, I cannot hear I cannot see; it was never meant for me, this enlightening visibility. One, four, three; my beat is disrupted; thrown out to sea, vision corrupted, of my survival there is no guarantee. I have to push to live to push, to escape, I am no escapee; still the skies blue is lush, still pain from the scrape, I am not yet deaths nominee.
One Of Tainted Hearing
I am there again, stated in such magnificent silence, only once I told myself; to keep the balance, allowing another's serenity. By my hand, by my benevolence; I slip into their outline, crafting pathways through their voice; if only all were as quiet as these.
This Damned Rabbit Hole
I fear I am alone in this light, chosen to be salvaged from a somewhat functioning machine; it seems this perception will only ever see blight, a warped vision of a gleaming scene. The dark gives rise to the glow, without its equal it would be hollow; but we never want to stay always wanting to go, ignoring the blue and taking the red to swallow.
One Of Tainted Hearing
I am there again, stated in such magnificent silence, only once I told myself; to keep the balance, allowing another's serenity.
By my hand, by my benevolence; I slip into their outline, crafting pathways through their voice; if only all were as quiet as these.
To be sentenced, to be eased, to be silenced and to be declared deceased.
Sent back, away from these tumbling seas; by my hand, by my decision, by me; what is done is by my decree!
Too many whispers, too many have been broke