Justin Freckleton

Justin Freckleton Poems

The afternoon boils over
Gutsy attempts at what the demographic
Would consider 'such a perfect day'
And committing myself
...

Yes my eyes are sad. They are sad because
they see the Future. They see the worms eating
my lifeless body.They see the beauty of life slip away
They see the sun jump from the earth.
...

Justin Freckleton Biography

Justin Freckleton, aka Justin Hellfire, is not your run of the mill poet. One part comedic with an underlying theme of dour reality is what you will find when you dissect his work. Presently residing in Pomona, CA, Justin draws inspiration from many of lifes overlooked characters and settings. For those who dare to venture past the curtain of obvious satire, one will find gems of social critique and a raw view of the human experience. Not limited to the craft of writing, Justin is also a musical artist. In his band Sick Six Sex he manages to bring his poetry to life through sound. With the passion to create and translate the unusual way he sees the world, Justin will no doubt leave a colorful mark on the artistic community. -Mike Nero)

The Best Poem Of Justin Freckleton

Warm Live Skin Dolls

The afternoon boils over
Gutsy attempts at what the demographic
Would consider 'such a perfect day'
And committing myself
To this notion
Allow the gusts of tranquility
To gently vandalize
A concrete epidermis

Protection detection forces
Patrolling my streets of curiosity
Take their required lunch break

Left in the buff; semi
Tasting emerald earth hair through clear nostrils
Sponging rays of light; not too bright
Seeping in niceties
Fluffy cuddly creature mentality
Warm live skin dolls
Talking words without meaning
Intrigued by their absence of English
Me muttering back nonsense
Grazing folds of velvet hallucination
Tickling Gods forbidden stuff
What a perfect day
Hot rain baptizes bodies
That frolic in tangled symphonies
The Earths core calls and I almost want to dig
I sense a party down there
Angels hunched over
Drool habanero fire

A taste of ferocity
Awakens me
With barbed wire water to the face
Ah a refreshing jolt back to real
Or the calm however before reality
The dust written sky
The tumble weeds
Rolling
A constant movement of death
But a more urgent reminder
To never be planted

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