Monday, 5 August 2013
2 Poems by Jason Constantine Ford
Although the folder held within my hands is emptied out
Of contents I treasured years ago, I have no doubt
Of finding another means of gaining a source of hope.
I simply place the folder on a table made of wood
And leave my home already eased in a tranquil mood
As one immune to former lies which gripped me like a rope.
The lies I left behind cannot approach my back
As I no longer walk along the wayward track
I used to take through years of blindness gone away.
I await the day for another folder to come
With a set of words which remedy senses numb
Unto a state of healing from all forms of past decay.
The falling residue of bitter pain collapsed
Upon the stones of guilt until each trace has died
Returns to me as cycle that has now elapsed
From light of morn to final tear my heart has cried.
The pain of looking back to memories which break
Into a set of shards which Justice’ hands forsake
Is bitterness following me along a road
Revealing pain within each episode.
Although I try to break away from pain
Beginning strong until it fades to grey,
A cycle set to bitterness has choked each vein
From feeling happiness within each day.
Your betrayal is what remains from early morn
Until the end of light which wipes away your scorn.
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 firstname.lastname@example.org .