JJ-Lit

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How We Love by JJ-Lit, literature

We Dont Die Young by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

We Dont Die Young

Turn the lights down low. Let me leave this place from the comfort of my own bed at seventy, quick. Sometimes I actually think I’ll be around to see the world die. That would be my luck, as it was my grandmother’s. The quality of life fades, but the heart and mind remain strong. I don’t wish to die, I just want to leave the station before the suffering rolls in, but we don’t die young. My blood line speaks for itself. The latest to prove that fact is my father, a hard noised wild man. He rode his Heritage to the end of life and back again. Now, his roar has become a groan, but he’s still kicking near eighty. Mos

Steve Duke by JJ-Lit, literature

Blurred and Distorted by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

Blurred and Distorted

Rays of light assault my eyes, resisting the urge to open. The sounds I hear within my head are slow to comprehend. The rustle of leaves against a breeze that flows across my skin, the scent of earth that fills my nostrils reinforces the need to wake. Eyes open, but do not see, colors blurred and distorted. Kaleidoscopes of florescent green, makes me sick to my stomach. Birds fly much like people drive, with the impatience of motion. From the ground my world spins full three hundred and sixty degrees. Bent and curled unable to rise with legs made of rubber, on the lawn is where I stay suffering alcoholic blunder.

The Right Kind of Sinners by JJ-Lit, literature

Still-Life by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

Still-Life

Perhaps now, I can finally write of romance; a tale with a story book encounter and all the stereo typical heart felt babble that goes along with it. Probably not unlike many you’ve read, but I suppose it’s all relevant to somebody. I suppose it starts with a name; not as cliché as one might think, but appropriate. Willow understood the words, their meaning. She was all too familiar with the stone-throws of life and their impact. Bright eyed and insightful, she was a true student of human nature and she learned it well. Perhaps too well for someone her age, but then again, eighteen was enough for me, so twenty-seven was pr

The Way of Averages by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

The Way of Averages

Most of us aren't special or privileged. We will never be royalty or even important in the grand scheme of things. Achievements will be average at best and suffering will, for the most part, be equal. We will all weigh the good from the bad and measure life accordingly. Self-loathing and self-pity will be a given at one point or another and we will all say things like “why me, why me”. But good things don't just happen to kings and bad things don't just happen to you. At the top of the world there are, but a few and we are the rest. This is the way of averages. This is the norm, good, bad, or otherwise indifferent.

We Were Meant to Fly by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

We Were Meant to Fly

Sometimes, you have to set aside broken things and start fresh; break the chains and take flight. Words I speak more to myself than anyone else. They come not from the pipes that won't play or behind the dreamer's gaze, but from the heart; screamed so loudly, I think they'll burst from my chest. You spoke this language once, used words like fear and uncertainly, misery and suffocation, gut wrenching times to be sure, but we just weren't ready. Now, my aim is true. My path is set, and so I step lighter these days, while you weep in dark corners; not for fear of heights or the irony of bad timing. Free spirits are meant to fly, but the ties th

White Trash Poet by JJ-Lit, literature

Declaration of Enduring Hard Times by JJ-Lit, literature

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How We Love by JJ-Lit, literature

We Dont Die Young by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

We Dont Die Young

Blurred and Distorted by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

Blurred and Distorted

Still-Life by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

Still-Life

The Way of Averages by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

The Way of Averages

Old Flings by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

Old Flings

Kyla used to say I was wild, untamed. A free falling adventurist to the extreme. In reality, I was on a crash course with life and through me, she discovered a taste for undiscovered landings. Together we took flight. Found new edges to leap from and stayed at the hip to the very end. So here's to old flings, mirrors and swings, and all the wonderful messes we made. Here's to sex on rooftops and changing cars in the fast lane just so we could explore the back seat. Here's to all the good times and experiences of old that let us know we actually lived.

One of those Nights by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

One of those Nights

The morning sun beams through the front windshield like an intruder: brash and unwelcome, forcing you to wake. Whiskey eyed, smelling like an ashtray, parked at the back end of some ghetto ass neighborhood wondering what the hell you did the night before. It's like trying to remember words you haven’t written yet. One thing is for certain: a little bit of rope goes a long way, but a lot of rope will hang you.

We Were Meant to Fly by JJ-Lit, literature

Literature

We Were Meant to Fly

White Trash Poet by JJ-Lit, literature

Declaration of Enduring Hard Times by JJ-Lit, literature

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radio arrhythmia--c. by betwixtthepages, literature

Literature

radio arrhythmia--c.

radio madness: bad blood shift-stick jangles like necks tied with nooses, choking and stuck on a loop leaving love rotting unrequited the easy-speak host-- dismantled by hope and left seeking repair from the comforts of smudge-dusted sheets and shady hotels-- begs inspiration like loose change from aching bones, static sight creeping up on muse like a hungry snake writhing neon signs with bubbles in the edges every drawn curtain belies story and the fiction behind empty eyes drips out of empty tear ducts calling through paper-thin walls the names of past poems to make sense of the moment manic ambiance, there's rhythm-less relentlessnes

How To Stop Obsessive Thinking Without... by Snapperz, literature

Literature

How To Stop Obsessive Thinking Without...

It’s 11:43 on a Tuesday night and my Google search history lists articles like, “15 Ways To Stop Obsessing,” “It Must Be Cancer: How I Came To Terms With Hypochondria,” and the particularly helpful, “Internet Makes Hypochondria Worse.” In other words, it’s just another Tuesday night. My heart is beating ferociously in my chest and I’m trying to convince myself that I’m not dying. Four months ago, just after New Year’s, I noticed something rather alarming – I had forgotten how to breathe. For those of you who go day in, day out, never spending a passing thought on th

White Flag by Snapperz, literature

Literature

White Flag

In a way, I am both the luckiest and the unluckiest person in the world. I’m twenty-four, reasonably socialized, and have never experienced the pain of personal death. Sure, I’ve had distant uncles and grand-parents pass on, but no one I’ve felt genuinely close to. For that, I’m probably fortunate. However, each year, the gap between my inevitable experience with mortality and I has closed in, tighter and tighter, and as I write this, I am preparing to say goodbye to my best friend. I met the Rat, formerly known as Snowball, when I was only seven. He was the size of a small cantaloupe and skated across the living room

Autumn Tides by BlackBowfin, literature

Literature

Autumn Tides

in the end, we find ourselves, down in the drainage and rain-slickened slip of summer's trails, freshly hardened by cloud-breathed mornings, we find our seasons re-routing, for survival and ourselves at the field edge rolling in an orange, yellow sea of leaves and loss, where my eyes and breath feel its soft revocation of vibrancy and that they will soon, not be my own and here, in the stark, mocking pale of your sunlight, we find ourselves rolling, as play and egos escalate and while we both know where it's going, we do nothing to stop it for we are of one manipulation one dark constellation, we are the ink-black panels between stars, the m

Pour Me a Long One and We'll Discuss it by Bark, literature

Literature

Pour Me a Long One and We'll Discuss it

To be, and to keep being, despite worlds crashing down around you Scribbling in the margins, leaving the page blank, a stranger Nothing exists in a vacuum, present your flawed warmness You may save more than yourself; others depend on you to live Do you see it yet, Brightstar? Sunlight and moonshine in your eyes, the beat of your heart Testify to your realness, to your philanthropic nature You didn’t even realize, did you, that your words have weight And that your soul is sea-worthy; write, teach, live, be more More than scribbles in the margins More than a footnote in the book of your own life.

dream by brassteeth, literature

Literature

dream

some mornings you forget to wake up and spend the day mistaking cobwebs for aeroplanes or space shuttles - or other weightless things like itches translucent plants float on breezes (I can’t remember their names) creaky rocking chairs rise in bird-like choruses you never quite noticed before this day flight is all around you - orbits intersecting, tropical lines lifting themselves from dusty globes – setting a stance to lasso whole continents you remember you named yourself in utero, and inside - the tiny gap of infinity between your skull and your pen. Across the river, alongside the high school lovers and hopscotch

Graffiti Entities by EmaciatedandEpitaphs, literature

Literature

Graffiti Entities

The syllables I've withheld from you snarl and snap inside my gullet, voracious entities clamoring to rupture my rib-cage. And they are more than just monsters or words or men; more than sporadic imagination. They are memories of whiskey songs and railroad tracks, his knuckles slackening in my grasp. Guitar-strings grinding my hip and fingernails in my back. He crooned of sweetness, but remembrance was rendered tasteless. Regret and vomit pressed betwixt the pages. These phrases recited in subconscious ritual, as if it will save you, perhaps grant you a bit of peace. - Remember when you scrawled Oscar Wilde across a wall already sull

Good Vibrations by leyghan, literature

About JJ-Lit

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Apr 2, 1974
United States
Deviant for 14 years
He / Him

Badges

Delicious Cake: My, that's a delicious cake (1)

My Bio

About me

I’m a middle aged white boy with a past, present, and god willing a future. I’ve lived hard and fast most my life and now it seems I’m slowing. I work for a living and play on the weekends. I enjoy Nascar, Bourbon, and BBQ and I love to grill. I also love to write and I love music. I’m no musician, but I am an enthusiast. My genres include punk rock, Rip Hop, and Reggae music and I don’t do much without them. I enjoy tattoos, back yard parties with friends, and just having a good time in general. I try not to cause problems for anyone and I hate drama. Basically I just want to take care of my responsibilities, my kids, and have a good time along the way. I guess you could say I’m a fairly simple guy.

As for writing, my interest began in late 2008-early 2009. Since then I like to think I’ve grown as a writer, but like most things we embark on I know I will forever be a student of literature. Now, I would love to categorize my writing style for you, throw out words like fixed form and free verse, but I gave that up almost immediately. Instead, I just call it life poetry and tag it as spoken-word leaving the rest up to you. I sincerely hope you enjoy what you find here.

Current Residence: Texas

Favourite Visual Artist

HR giger

Favourite Movies

28 Weeks Later

Favourite TV Shows

The walking dead, Sons of anarchy, and a few others

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Too damn many to list

Favourite Writers

Frost

Favourite Games

Texas hold em, Spades, and Five card draw

Tools of the Trade

Ducktape fixes everything

Other Interests

Music, Tattoos, Nascar, Beer, and BBQ

Profile Comments 5.3K

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TheLunaLily

Apr 3, 2020

Happy birthday!

vespera

Jun 17, 2018

Every 6-12 months or so when I come back for a bit, you're one of the peeps I hope to find still here. Hasn't happened in a while, and I can only hope that you're off somewhere enjoying life. I hope it is good to you.