Below Average Poetry – By: Jason C. Cushman

bookcover copy

Would you ever, if you never

Would you ever, if you never saw the stars.

Learn to dream in the dark away from the light.

Would you ever, if you never had a cause.

Fight for those that cannot fight.

Would you ever, if you never knew love.

Share a moment and create a memory.

Would you ever, if you never knew the truth.

Find peace at night and learn just to be.

Could I ever, if I never knew my past.

Find something worth holding and make it last.

Could I ever, if I never cared for you.

Find forgiveness for you too.

Could I ever, if I never knew the man I was.

Be the man I was meant to be.

Could I ever, if I never wrote again.

Live my life with no beginning or end.



Break Me

Broken body how you break so well.

Breaking as if under a spell.

Outer shell you look divine.

Straightened by determined spine.

Inner core what is this?

Half a core what is amiss?

Who did you offend!

Living half a life on lend.

Broken body, go on a break.

End the pain so I can wake.

Broken body why do you break?

Where did I make a mistake?


Burning Rose


Burning rose. You burn so well.

Burning like a nightingale.

Burning beauty. Burn so bright.

Bleeding color into my night.

Dying heart. You hang so well.

Dying underneath my spell.

Dying promise. How you die.

Departing without a single cry.

Loving tender. I love you still.

Loving still the space you filled.

Loving memory. Come love me back.

Don’t leave me wanting what I lack.

Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter


She comes into your life and brings nature’s blessing. And with her entrance comes a curse of wanton passion. The grass is still alive as it blazes in the sun. The chorus of our laughter floats gently in the Spring breeze. We are the definition of love and our hands are linked as we dance amongst the growing and the grown alike. We enjoy timeless sunsets on picturesque settings creating canvases waiting to be painted at each moment. We love.

Time works wonders and bonds grow firm. We resolve to walk quietly into the night together. Hands held tightly against the shadows we once faced alone. We pick each other up in the heat of the Summer, against the blazing sun and humanity’s punishment. We turn as one, in unison with one another’s needs. I am your need and you are mine. And like an oak tree we grow together.

The rain has come and we have weathered storms. We still touch… but sometimes our hands Fall like leaves from our tired limbs. The chatter of children running around our base keeps us united, we are still united with finger painted signs and chalk figures. But some nights are cold and the moon shines two shadows upon the ground.

It snows here in Denver. The Winter seems to be most of the year… at least lately. But even with the constant ice, it does melt with the strength of will. A will we share each morning and return to each night. The seasons form a timeless ring that hardens into a golden promise. They touch each time our hands unite with infused emotion. Regardless of what emotion that is the presence of feelings means that we still care.

Fallen Stars


I walk upon a land of fallen stars.

Rising so high, how they fall so very far.

I hear the crunch of souls beneath my feet.

Graves upon graves till there is no beat.

Silence becomes the silent ones.

Those that weep and those that run.

They intertwine till they bind.

Forming a tapestry of my mind.

A cold grave where thoughts go to die.

And as they die they twinkle before my eye.


Crushing Roses


Could I share my broken heart?

Allowing you to see it fall part.

Or would I hide the pieces there.

Ashamed of my broken despair.

Should I borrow a smile?

Walking steps of another’s mile.

Instead I choose to turn within.

Where the pain all began.

Gluing myself back together.

Hoping to create a person better.

Or at least to make the perfect lie.

To shield myself from the whys.

Left Hand, Right


My right hand writes my mind.

My left hand writes my soul.

In between lives a torn heart. It battles for the right and left.

It is the right and left.

But what day does not have a night and light?

Writing open truths for those that only know lies.

Telling lies to hope the spirit does not die.

We live as one. My right hand and left.

One mind, one soul, one heart.

Different days.


Korean Son


Would I wish upon a Korean son?

Only to have it turn and run.

Accepting the American moon.

The American me, a man too soon.

How I miss you in the night.

Your image fading from my sight.

The right to have a mother’s love.

I simply wasn’t good enough.


Hanging Faith


Can I hang my faith upon a cloud.

And hope to live without a sound.

Would you see my true belief?

Or assume I flutter like a leaf.

Could my god outshine your own?

Would he take a yellowish tone?

Or would he be a stranger to me.

A borrowed godhead, not reality.

Can I still pray to such a one?

My religion completely undone.

Might I instead turn within?

The place where god truly began.




Could I fall so very far, but never fall at all.

Gripping, grasping, I try to grab. The smooth surrounding walls.

Falling forever, how I fall. Have I not fallen far enough?

I look to the sky above for the only one to judge.

He smiles at me as I fall, how I feel his love.

I close my eyes to the day and finally accept the night.

Comfort of darkness surrounds me. I begin to write.

Slaying words


I could stab a word repeatedly and watch it drip letters onto the floor.

Watching as it tries to crawl its way to beckoning open door.

Stepping over the remains of phrases that it shed.

Retracing our steps from where the bleeding led.

I ponder upon what I have done.

Whether I was moved by sacrifice or a need for fun.

Slaying words into the night.

My moving pen gives me the right.




Come sweet embrace.

Caressing face.

I tremble at your word.

Come faster pace.

No time for lace.

Our actions become a verb.

Whisper now.

Gently now.

Given sweet reward.

Emotion brings motion.

I am devotion.

There is nothing I want more.


Sleeping Beauty


Sleeping beauty rest my eyes.

Slowly dying pain of mine.

Crumpled pills stay my pain.

Nightly cycle spin again.

Wake me up, come wake me now.

Wake me from depression’s cloud.

Kill me now, please kill me now.

Swallowed gently without a sound.


A Thousand Lights


A thousand lights so bright.

How they twinkle in the night.

Falling dreams and thoughtless things.

Cares and concerns given wings.

Wishes that shoot for the sky.

Wishes that fall and die.

Snuffing out the candlelight.

With fallen tears just right.

Finding comfort in the rain.

A thousand pounds of pain.

Burning light, please stay so bright.

Twinkle with my nightly fight.


Tears from a fallen son


Tears from a fallen son.

How desperately you seem to run.

Away from me, how you flee.

So ashamed of what we used to be.

Look back as you run to die.

You sweet tear of mine.

Give me back what you take away.

Or stay away. Yes stay away.


Our Song


Play our song, a single song, on a single note.

Is there one? There must be one. Our unity in words we wrote.

Hear that sound, our lovely sound, our song we sing tonight.

Take my hand. Come take my hand. Our bodies move just right.

Feel that beat, a steady beat, a rhythm fights the sleep.

Who needs sleep? We need no sleep. Come feel all of me.

Can you sing. Let me make you sing. Our song is finally found.

Let me now, come feel me now. Our song has come around.


Broken Sun


Trickle down broken sun.

Course of day finally run.

Whispers of regret be gone.

Whispers of love so fond.

Shattered sky silence me.

Peaceful bliss inside of me.

Can I be so very still?

Stillness passes without feel.

Would I miss your hand tonight?

Broken trust like broken flight.

Could I turn within instead?

Finding comfort, my own bed.


Painted Smiles


Painted smiles. Come paint me now.

Evenly painted, spreading trowel.

Painting happiness. Paint me a smile.

A perfect smile to last awhile.

Painting me. Let me paint you.

Let me show you what is seen by few.

Painted perfection. Are we perfect yet?

Painting the outlines others set.

I Dream a Dream


I dream a dream within a dream.

With real life endings, not made up things.

People try to kill me. I try to flee.

Only to realize I am killing me.

I sit beside Dante and sneer,

His dreams of hell nowhere near.

Try an Ambien entrapment you can’t escape.

Then tell me of suffering.

I see it clearly before my sleeping eyes.

A dream within a dream that never dies.


A Nod to Poe


How sweet is the tender touch as I caress your every limb.

Our lips meet and thoughts collide on each and every sin.

Even as I take you into my warm embrace.

I smother the image by destroying your very grace.

Transforming now our reality to fantasy.

Pain brings the passion to ecstasy.

You shudder, I feel you tremor to your bones.

A sweet sensation adding to the quiet undertones.

Softly now, gently I lay you down.

I board you up with a golden crown.

And there dies the buried light.

Another name, another dove takes flight.




Could I say what I wish to say, a whisper in the wind.

Yesterday died and tomorrow is a lie, but still I begin again.

Will I write what they will write or can I own my pen?

I use my words as I want. It is the only way to win.

Can I stay true to what I know, a voice inside my head.

Holding opinion’s hand so tight, we are surely wed.

I can only be what I was meant to be. A writer of the night.

Sharing opinion where opinion is dying, I fight for that right.


Midnight Thought


Could I wonder just because?

Without pondering on what was.

Following fully a trail of thought.

With borrowed courage I brought.

Seeking for that which hides.

Words with no surrounding sides.

A morning cup of midnight thought.

A pondering upon dreams I bought.

Midnight becomes the living day.

I have learned to live this way.

The Church


There sits a church upon a hill.

The sound of prayer in the air does fill.

Inside stands a man of God.

Preaching to a growing mob.

People unaware of one small thing.

As they hope and pray and sing.

That the kingdom has already come.

For a man who has already won.

Riches given in hope of salvation.

Instead they have created a nation.

A church of this very earth.

A church that God never gave birth.

Pain Born Tears


Pain born tears never die.

Instead they slowly seep inside.

Watering hidden graves within.

Waking sleeping demons again.

At night they come out to play.

Upon a field of tears that stay.

When does sadness finally die?

When tears stop falling from waking eye.

Accepting pain for what it is.

A part of life that I miss.

Finding Yourself


The past unknown can be bore, when no knowledge is had of that which was tore.

When the seal of history is cut, A piece of your heart can be seen to jut.

From that wound so small, so infinite. All you knew is surely bent.

Pain deeper than any well, can surely seem like the fires of hell.

But that pain, that gift, although so small, Starts the pieces of the puzzle to fall.

That puzzle, the key, to finding yourself, Is the inner soul’s manna, its being, its health.

That stranger that walks a different life, with whom you have so much strife.

Your identical twin, your brother, your soul. Whose relations with you takes its toll.

It is his place you wish to be. To be able to say, hey this is me.

But his life is not your path to take. The Gods have rolled their dice, it is their choice to make.

What trials and tribulations each shall endure, we should rejoice we don’t have more.

Kill the image you wish to be, Your fate before you never flee.

Until those gates you should climb, Be glad of the days that you may dine, On the fruits of life and wine.

Until you dance with death and die, To spit in the devil’s eye.

-Opinionated Man

Jason Chandler Cushman




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