Joined: 30 Sep, 2018
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Greetings, my name is John Heavern, I live in Charlotte, NC. I have been a closet writer for years. My journey beginning as a relief valve for my pent-up emotions. Having no literary point of reference, I discovered my poems closely resembled song lyrics. Pursuant to this epiphany, I began to write poetry in standard lyrical format. I currently have 5 music demos, three of which are videos on youtube. Music for demos created by musicians, videos created by myself. Youtube link available here. I have over 170 complete lyrical poems of various subject matter and disposition I best describe as: "Lyrical poetry of observational introspection", designed to accompany 4/4 musical composition and be “song-friendly”, complete with verses, repeating chorus and bridges. Poems are generally one full page, single-spaced, approximately 200 words. It is my goal to infuse some depth and sophistication into an entertaining, rhythmically simple form of literary rhyme patterns while awaiting recognition and application of it’s value from the musical community. “Lyrical spheres, inspired frontiers, creations awaiting a musical dawn”... - JPH Youtube site:
© 2018 John Heavern 35 S-9/8/18, Bones It's been a wearisome, wonderful life, been kind of interesting earning my stripes. As I wander alone down the path of unknown, a shroud of reality shadows my bones. Ch1)No sense in wading in pools of denial, time's dissipating near the end of the aisle. Rattle my bones while I spend what I make, giving my tolerance all it can take. There's still enough light to relish my flight, seize opportunity when it's in sight. I was never devoid of a pleasure enjoyed, my bones of delight are a treasure employed. Ch2)I hope when I get to the checkout, I find my bones turned to dust from my fun in the grind. Don't plan on having too much to retrieve except for the dusting of memories I leave. Br) Bones fighting gravity all of our lives, aching and breaking, shaking inside. People turn blue when there's nothing to do throw them a bone life has shown onto you. Ch3)Bones can get buried by dogs of my greed, unkindness implanting nefarious deeds. Better to share all the fortunate fare, bones left to pick never go anywhere.