Jason Constantine Ford is from Perth in
Australia. He works as an employee at a book shop. He has
over fifteen years of experience in studying various styles
of poetry. The major influences on his style of poetry are
William Blake, Edgar Alan Poe and Gerard Manley Hopkins.
Blake’s ability to address the social issues of his time
through poetry and painting has had a lasting impact upon
Jason’s early years. For correspondence, contact Jason at jasonconstantineford@gmail.com
JASON CONSTANTINE FORD
Dream Woman
I
walk toward a sign which indicates
Directions
to a palace and begin to see
A
woman of beauty appearing at the gates
Without
another person in her company.
She
holds a bowl of diverse fruits in her hand
And
takes a bite from an apple which is green
As
she gazes at me with features grand,
A
beauty greater than other faces I have seen.
She
offers me a piece of fruit to eat
And
I respond by extending my hand out
To
only touch empty air in summer heat
In
a state of mind already plagued with doubt.
Morning Hangover
Images
are flashing back as sparks ignite
Delusions
I suffered from the other night.
The
girls I encountered at a party appear
To
be here as they speak with words I endear.
They
are talking about values I evoked
Within
the span of sharing weed we smoked.
I
leave my bed desiring to embrace
A
girl until she is gone without a trace.
In
that moment, all the others have left
As
I devolve with emotions bereft.
The
boundary separating fiction from fact
Appears
obscured in a manner most exact.
I
cannot even tell the difference between
Reals
girls and those who have never been.
Flashback of Pain
Images
of her return within my sleep
As
a set of brittle memories entering deep
Into
both conscious and unconscious thought
Until
images are gone away to status nought.
One
image returns with bitterness immense
From
the day she cruelly chose to withdraw
Her
love resulting in affliction of each sense
Of
mine unto a state of me being sore.
Memory
of how she pulled her hand away
Is
a form of bitterness that decides to stay.
Although
I attempt to remove this image,
Chambers
of thought suffer from the damage
This
image brings into my state of mind
As
effects of bitter years which always grind.
Each
year which is dissolved into the dust
Of
sadness is sprinkled with the pain of knowing
How
I am simply left with less than the crust
Of
years of bitterness that are still blowing.
In
my sleep, the wind blows against my back
With
the full force of an emotional attack.
The
Tower of Illusion
At imposing height so high above
the ground,
Machines are impregnating each
captive mind
With memories of falsity most
profound
Resulting in descent unto a
status blind.
Circuits that connect each mind
to central command,
Prepare for stage where former
names no longer stand.
The tower’s brain replaces facts
with callous lies
Designed to destroy the reality
it denies.
The brain controlling brittle
minds decides to break
Memories of old and inject
fabricated life
Into the chambers of thought
which blindly partake
In ocean of virtual delusions
that are rife.
The span of years from brittle
minds have been replaced
With new identities as former
names are effaced.
Inside
the Tower of Illusion
Circuits from a machine are
placed around my head
unto an infusion of passionate
thoughts that spread
to a belief that I am treading in
a world below.
As I search through the mist of
memories weak,
I am immersed with feelings for a
woman I seek
And enter the woods without
knowledge of where to go.
I pass through bushes which are
shaking in the breeze
And gain a glimpse of this woman
among the trees
Until she starts running away
from my view.
Without any sense of direction, I
begin to chase
Her with desperation but I cannot
see a trace
Of features captivating me unlike
others I knew.
In this state of ignorance where
my goal is hidden
Among other virtual images that
are forbidden
To me, a tower of illusion holds
me captive.
I am left seeking a woman who
does not exist
As passions within me are ones
which persist
Under the control of a machine
that remains active.
