Copyright

Copyright © 2019 by Adolf Jackson

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

 

Digital Published in the United States of America.

 

First Printing, 2019.

Title and Author

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m Still Breathing:

Dead language Gasping

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poems By: Adolf Jackson

 

Table of content

 

Table of content

 

1. History
2. The Look
3. Office 107
4. Neon God
5. I Never
6. Strangers In Paradise
7. Needed
8. Faim
9. Chinese Love Affair
10. Static
11. Physicist
12. Las Vegas Dreaming
13. Why Won’t you
14. The Color wasn’t Black
15. Inside Job
16. Vodka
17. Made
18. Only I Heed
19. What Do I Know?
20. Beautiful Ghost
21. 3
22. Flirtation
23. Taxi Driver
24. Obvious
25. Disturbed
26. Hibakujumoku
27. Merely Thirst
28. Doyenne
29. Desdemona
30. Dead Poetry
31. Games
32. Lost Within the World
33. Poison
34. Vision Without sight
35. Selfish Act
36. The Family
37. In Darkness
38. Father’s tongue
39. Junk mail
40. Fatality of Fancy
41. Japanese Surprise
42. This is Not Yesterday
43. Emotional Turmoil
44. A Star
45. From a Real Place
46. Hey Skunk
47. What Does it mean?
48. Angels Eyes
49. Dishes
50. Figurehead
51. Itch
52. 1945
53. Michael
54. Loophole

 

 

Acknowledgement

 

Acknowledgement

 

Nursery rhymes that refuse to leave when done serving their purpose, birth a rhythm that can only be described by words. Over the years many poems were read but only handful were understood. Connection was forge to the Neverland.

William’s Sonnets were observed and memorized, the intentions were to understand but instead I become.

 

What a new galaxy.

 

Discoveries from all this beautiful worlds within. Translated codes from the Far East were discovered through Shi. The verse in Shi extended my algorithm. Villanelle is another world that is yet to be understood. Limerick, of course, a class clown of this galaxy.  Clueless from the unrecognizable corners of this earth. When I was lost I was rescued by Haiku. Love affair of the ages. Through Haiku, meaning was given to everything that I had written.

 

Many other worlds have yet to be fully understood. But Through poetry quest I met and fell in love with Rumi. Dante became a hero without equal. These stories within words became my refugee in sadness as well as in happiness. Poetry quest my Odyssey.

About the Author

This is Adolf jackson's first published work.

History

 

History

 

 

A greatest poet of them all.

A good bartender who never stops a brawl.

Greatest past time, older than American Pie and Baseball.

When we talk about the gods and everything we made history seem small.

After all is said and done, like a bartender: it will call the Last Call.

The Look

 

 The Look

 

 

 

Don’t get so close to economy, you might get traumatized.

Ugly creature so heartless not to be idolized.

Getting close might leave you with 2nd degree burns like sun.

If you ever get in bed with economy, greed will be your love child.

Like a soldier, economy decide lives.

 

 

Health care so sweet from afar.

Its foundation is rooted in Vietnam.

Let me enjoy my burger and hell with the cow.

It is all calculated risk, these chemo-therapies leave lifetime scars.

No room for errors to avoid catastrophic outcome.

Unpredictable ticking time boom.

 

 

Freedom is a half breed child, lower your expectations.

Surgery performed was so violent that democracy is a product of C-section.

The wombs of the natives were gutted without any permission.

Fathered by civilized ideals, tough love giver.

Freedom a perfect mother apart from being a child beater.

 

 

Secrecy is a greatest human invention.

Unruly child was conceived; and come to be known as “Lies/deception”.

The only foundation we know for certain is corruption.

Adultery, cheating and stealing is all the outcome of miscalculation.

Finally the full answer as to why Love isn’t our invention.

 

 

What you think of politics, you must apply it to religions.

It is such a pity that people don’t even know their own history.

Many holes in logics of both teachings.

A reason based upon a gamble serve as understanding.

Pathetic reaction – awaits.

 

Office 107

 

Office 107

 

 

Thé chair.

A destination.

Unripe weeds.

A garden paramount reflects.

Like global warming seasons are vanishing.

What is usual about infant running?

John’s father buried his son in the nightfall.

 

 

The window.

Gold rush was vindicated.

We were supposed to use it to see the deceits; that He was petrified.

I wonder if breathing could still be hard without safety net.

Carnival of our defaults; made believe enormity.

Doleful if you were to ask me, but who am I to query their contentment.

 

 

Sanctuary.

You would’ve thought that 9/11 sound the alarm.

Corner 4th Avenue and 7th street was their Vietnam.

Sundry distinguish the child named Harmony but they know the parents not.

Very sad, coming off age bored.

Chapters weren’t read.

Where do you reckon you will rest, if you haven’t ready your bed?

 

 

Ambition.

I rest my demand.

A gift and a curse of mortal brain is that it can forget.

A lover forgets broken heart from treachery.

A mother forgets the pain that comes with barring a child.

No astonishment after all. Is there?

 

 

Destiny.

A shadow from a pyramid.

Pyramid whose name depends on the seed.

A seed’s quality depends on the dirt which it came.

Hard to believe that bliss was the purpose.

 

01001110 11000011 10101001 01101111 01101110 00100000

 

01001110 11000011 10101001 01101111 01101110 00100000

 

Every monster is fashioned is an irony.

Its lie after lie, we are racing LOVE: when we all know it well that we are just drawn to Resentment.

Maybe it was perfection of shallow loveliness.

Oh, I know: maybe it was a default setting-in-our-subconscious doing its burden.

I mean how much do we really know about ourselves right?

 

 

We sought beauty in total freedom.

Yet I thought we were intelligent.

You would think that by now we already know that when we shred ourselves off authority and giventh it, it becomes tainted.

We didn’t comprehend time, formerly we let Mr. Stranger; a Watch, to keep it for us.

All was in rheostat until when we let the foreign contractors in.

The conclusion is bedlam

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: Christopher Manwadu
Bildmaterialien: Christopher Manwadu
Cover: Christopher Manwadu
Lektorat: Christopher Manwadu
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 01.04.2019
ISBN: 978-3-7487-0084-5

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