Poems

Hello and welcome to my blog. I am John Loraine and I am a poet and a writer. Check out my new book, a collection of poems “My poems my soul.” Thank you for reading. Cheers!

Poem: Hey, man

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

Hey, man.
I know you out there somewhere
You’ve been so close, and now you’re gone
into the other world,
the other side they call it,
Where I can’t see you anymore.
You’ve been around so much
You’ve always been here,
Since the young days of our lives
I’m still around and pushing through it
And you’ve been gone,
So prematurely, gone.
It felt like in the young days
There was so much to live for
There was so much to do, to try
It felt like we’ve got all the time in the world, man
And the opportunities were endless
All we needed was time.
We’ve been together for so long
We’ve done so many things as one
We’ve lived through some tough shit
And we always knew to have some fun.
We laughed, and we’ve cried, and we were
Like brothers, the best friends forever.
I know we still are, and we’ll always be,
As long as I keep you in my heart.
So many happy moments, so much
Drinking and fun,
We never needed the reason, as long as
We were together. We were on.
It’s sad to no longer have you,
No longer see you, no more calls and texts,
No more the best friendship,
It’s all in the past, in my memories now.
I’ll keep you in my prayers and thoughts
For as long as I am alive.
You’ve taught me a lot with your living
Your spirit, your grit, and your mind.
I hope you’ve found your place out there
And heaven is now your new home
I know we will see each other again at some point
And then we’ll get drunk for the old good time’s sake.
I’ll tell you my stories, and you’ll tell me yours
We’ll hug each other, we’ll laugh, and we’ll cry,
It’s lonely out here, man, but this is the life
I have to move on and fight and survive.
I know that you’re close, man. I can feel you around
I am happy to ever know you and call you my best friend.

Poem: Throwing yourself into the fire

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

Today and tomorrow,
What does it matter,
Throwing yourself into the fire
And watching yourself burn.
It might hurt or damage you, or it might not,
If you’re immune or if you’re dead,
Or if you are resilient.
There is the same grey sky up above,
And there are the same sad people
Walking underneath, singing the blues
Waiting for something to happen.
The red-brick walls are turning black with mold.
The red-brick walls cannot sustain this anymore.
They’ve seen enough of struggle. They’ve been depressed
So many times that the pain cannot hold the happy colors
Anymore. The cheerful colors disappear and vanish with the sun.
The sky is clouded, dark, and mean
As we shoot the rockets through it
Trying to escape successfully.
The times are different now, and we are different too.
There is something in the air that we cannot inhale.
It will turn us to stone, it will stone us to death,
It will make us the slaves of our bodies and homes.
The freedom is gone slowly, and nobody knows where it is anymore.
Everything happened too fast.
The store shelves are empty, and the prices are higher than
Paychecks as we wait in our lines for the change.
We call ourselves names, and we want to be friends
We try to be different, yet we want to be all the same.
We try, fail, and fail again to keep on trying.
The birds don’t sing anymore; they’ve turned numb.
Our music is the reflection of us and our souls
As the turntables are spinning those records
Making them sing and turn and tell us something good.
Turning these records to gold as we are
Throwing ourselves into the fire and watching ourselves burn.

Poem: The good old days

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

I reminisce about the old days
The days that passed and are a long time gone.
The days that kept me honest
The days which brought suffering and pain.

These days have left the mark inside me
They’ve been there for a reason
To help me navigate my life.
These days have made me the man I am today
These days were imprinted in my soul and mind.

My thoughts go back, and I remember thinking
How will this all play out for me one day?
I knew that something would be happening
I never knew what effect it would have on me.
The future was always a mystery and kept
It’s secrets away from me.
This was my life to live, and I did it
Knowingly and consciously.

I remember the young soul with all the needs and wants
I remember the dreaming and planning and hoping
One day for a better life to come.
I knew that nothing would stay the same and that
The world is turning, flipping, fucking up
I just needed to find my place here one day,
I needed to survive the hype.

I remember the sunny weather and
The sun’s been warming up my soul. The ocean,
It was as warm as is the bathtub water, and the sand,
It was just like powder, smooth and white.
I remember the early mornings of hope
I remember the evenings of sunsets,
I remember one day passing another,
I remember that I grew up too fast.
I remember these moments the best.

I lived in one place than another,
I knew that nothing was good enough,
I knew that I would never be completely happy
Anywhere, unless I’ll try too hard.
The young’s man heart is always wanting
And the soul is full of fire burning hot,
Life is always bitching and moaning,
And the mind never had the rest or stopped.

And even now, as I sit here thinking,
The years now passed, and the youth was gone.
I know that fire is still here, and the mind
Did calmed itself over the years and struggles
But I am still the same, still burning hot.
I think and reminisce and go back and forth in life
I know that things will never be the same again
Even if you try too hard. Life’s moved on, and so did I,
Nothing’s remained unchanged, except the little young
Man’s soul burned the dreaming hopes away.

The good old days will always be there,
The present will become the past,
The future will forever be a mystery and
One day it also is going to become the past.
I used to be so young once,
I’m growing older by the day,
It doesn’t matter. This is life. Things always happen.
One thing to know is that I did not waste my time.

Poem: Morning process

~ John Loraine ~ 2 Comments

I sit in front of the empty page and look at it patiently
I know it’s somewhere, but I cannot find it right now.
It is hiding from me, but I wait.
I wait for that spark to come back to me, to light me up.
I want to have it. I need that flame. I have to create.
I want to fill my blank pages entirely with words,
Page after page, line after line.
The rhythm of prose and poetry will guide me,
The inspiration will inspire me
The imagination will give me its gift once more.
But for now, I just sit here staring at the walls and
My coffee in the cup is hot. Just sipping
As the morning classical music is playing on the
Speakers on the wall,
Written by some dead people from a long time ago.
This is my morning. This is the process.
This is how I write, create, and get by.

Poem: Cold morning air

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

Cold morning air feels refreshing
Feels like morning, feels like a new day.
It feels like freedom.

You inhale the smoke of a cigarette
And you sip on that morning brew
Like it’s your energy,
It’s your fuel
That will drive you through this day.

The trees stay cold and motionless
And the sun is waking up
Yet again,
Yet again, bringing you another day
To live, to fight, to struggle, to prove
That you can make it.

You are making it alright,
Good things are fucking coming
As they should
After such a prolonged suffering
And chaos and misery.

You’ve got another chance to make things better
You’ll get more of these chances
Hopefully,
As you go through this day and another day,
And another cigarette and coffee
In the morning.

Thoughts come and go, and some stay,
Problems come and go, and some stay.
This is how it is, and it always has been this way.
This is your life and your choice, and your battle.

As the world wakes up to face another life
You wake up to meet your demons,
You trick them sometimes,
Sometimes you struggle, sometimes
They are just another you.
Another side of you.

You know it, and you know it well.
And the cold morning air knows it
As its getting warmer
As the new day unwinds
And brings you this life to
Live again.
Yet one more time.

Poem: Writer or not

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

The sun will shine, and the wind will blow.
And the trees will hum their tunes staying green as much as they want.
Your next line is going to lay down or not,
It doesn’t matter. We’ve all been through that.
The coffee’s turning cold, and the cigarette’s
Burning down, but it’s just one tiny moment.
We are here today, writer or not
And we live,
We fight,
We survive.
We create.

Poem: Shortage

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

Everything is a shortage,
Jobs,
Workers,
Unemployment checks,
Wages,
Nurses,
Hospitals,
Doctors,
Medicine,
Gasoline,
Car chips,
Pick up trucks
And Teslas,
Toilet paper,
Paper towels,
Napkins,
Sanitizers,
And water,
Masks,
Vaccines,
People’s lives,
Sober minds,
Clear minds,
Strong minds,
Independent minds.
Smart, stupid, maniacs,
Heros, assholes, morans,

Everything is a shortage or soon will be in short supply.
We need so much shit the world cannot produce enough.
As life goes on, our time is a shortage too.
After today we’ll have one day less to live.
After today, there will be another shortage of something.
Did you get everything you need?

Poem: Myself again

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

Here we go again,
Living this life,
Fighting this battle.
It never feels like the end of it
Even though it comes so naturally
And unexpected.
There is less and less hope
As there is less and less sense
In today’s life
Which keeps me wondering
And confused by today
And tomorrow.
There is still the same sky up above
There is still the same sun up above,
And it still shines the same for everyone
Leaving so many at peace
And so many heartbroken.
But this is life, and this is how it is.
It comes, and it goes.
We’re just the visitors, we’re tourists,
We are the guests who often get lost.
The stars will show when the darkness comes.
The dark will keep us safe.
It is just me here sitting surrounded by four walls
Fighting the worlds on the screen
Thinking, where do they come from?
How many there are left?
The meaning of it all. The struggle of creation.
The coffee treats my soul as the
The full page treats my insecurities.
The sadness goes away as
I become myself again. Just for today.

Poem: Life

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

I woke up early in the morning
Because I wanted to see more of this life
And I wanted to use my time wisely as
I know we only have so much to live
And so much to see.
It is terrifying to acknowledge that
Sooner or later, it all be gone
And we all be gone
And the world will never be the same.
And us will never be the same
As it all is moving around, changing,
Adjusting, disappearing with the sunsets,
And never emerging with the sunrises again.
The fresh cold air feels like life,
It feels like I need
More of it.
The grey-blue sky above feels like home,
It is endless, and it is always up there, somewhere.
It is time to make the changes; it is time to live
I wish I knew the proper way,
I wish I knew the secret, but I don’t.
I go on day by day, like so many others
Wondering,
What the next day will bring?
And as the day wraps up, we see
That it will bring nothing more
Then you’ve tried to accomplish.
Waiting is a waste of time and
Wating kills time and you, slowly.
There are so much to see and so much to live
So many sunsets and sunrises and
So much of the fresh air in the early mornings.
Enjoy it while it lasts, enjoy it while you can
We’re not going to be here forever
And there is no way of taking any of this with you
Once we’re gone.
It all will stay here, the same, making
Others wondering about it and enjoying it.

Poem: A hundred sunsets

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

I’ve seen a hundred sunsets
Trying to catch a perfect one.
There were many great once
But, not a single perfect one.
It didn’t matter though,
I’ve seen a lot of them already and
That has to count for something.
There are only so many
Sunsets you can see.
It only takes a few minutes
For the sun to disappear
Below the horizon and
Drown in the ocean
But these moments are worth a lifetime.
It keeps me here for another day
Wondering
In the silence of the ocean breeze,
Watching a hundred sunsets disappear.

Poem: The rhythm of life

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

Constantly running after
Something,
Constantly trying to prove
Something,
Constantly trying to escape from
Something,
Never a minute of stillness,
Never a chance for a break
One hustle after another
The man has to live his life
This way
Until there is still some life to live
Until there is still something to hustle
About
Until there is sunshine in the sky,
Until there is oxygen in the air.
Hoping one day, it will be better
Hoping one day, he can truly
Live his life.

Poem: War

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

People are very good
At destroying
Everything that was built
Before them
For them
By them.
There is no remorse
There is just a passion
Of destruction
That rules their minds
That rules the world.
Lives don’t matter
People don’t matter
Nothing matters
As much as destruction
Of it all
Slowly
Passionately
Deliberately
Preaching the choir
Shaking hands with the devil
Following orders
Like sheep
Following idiots
Who said something
To help ruin
Everything
In the name of war
Promoting the peace
Promoting a better life.
For who?

Poem: One great precious moment

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

Hope is what we need
In all the hopeless places.
Love is what we miss
When we need to be loved.
We reminisce about summer
During long and cold winter days
And in the summer we want to
Cool it off.
There is a balance in life
That works, and it might not
Be working for all,
But it makes life interesting.

We’ve been apart too far
From one another, maybe too long?
Cannot even remember our last conversation
Or the last phone call we had.
Life’s moving fast,
We are growing old faster.
One minute you were a child
The next you’re an old man.
One minute you think that there is
Still so much to live
And so much to life
And the next minute,
You’re at the end of it wondering
Where did the time go?

There is nothing to take back.
There are so many
Precious moments in life and
There are only so many sunsets and
Sunrises. We sure miss a few
But we cannot afford to ignore
The wonders of nature and
How beautiful it is, trying
To make us feel better,
To give us hope,
And love, and life,
and so many precious moments.

Poem: Snow

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

It snows today.
It snows today again.
It seems that there is no end
To this white matter, which
Just keeps falling from the sky,
Like nobody’s business.
But it is everyone’s business.
Everyone’s trapped now
In their houses with all their problems and no escape,
Nothing to do and nowhere to go.
We sit at home all depressed and angry,
And thanks to God for the booze and movies.

When it snows, it’s nice and beautiful,
It looks so pure and clean and white,
So picturesque, so fresh and new.
But later, this white pureness will
Melt, and will show its darkness
It’ll turn into a black and nasty,
Fucking mushy icy matter
Which will make your car dirty,
Your shoes wet and your soul cold.
The third time it snows this week
And I am already sick of it.
Fuck it, go away, you fucking snow,
Let me be free, let me enjoy the nice,
Warm and humid, sunny summer days.
They are so missed.

Poem: A glass full of wine

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

Like a glass full of wine
Overflowed,
And the wine keeps pouring.
And the glass drowns in it.
And the wine never ends.
And the emotions are so raw.
And fresh and clean and
Fucking beautiful
And Brahms is playing the
Violin Concerto in D Major
And nothing else matters,
Any more, any less,
Live goes on as it should
And we should move on,
Somewhere else,
Remember that Brahms concerto
And the good wine
And all the good times
And the warm sun
On the nice bright day
When we were young and
We didn’t give a fuck
And we were so innocent and true,
Just like that violin Concerto in D Major.

Poem: You and Me

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

The day changes the night
As the night changes the day,
And so it goes on forever.
There is a unique dynamic there
With darkness and daylight
With quiet and noise,
With life and death,
With you and me.

I am here and you are there.
You leave and then come back.
I talk and you don’t listen.
You do something when I don’t.
We are just like the night and the day,
We are positive and negative,
And there is this attraction of opposites
Between us and keeps us together.
I smile, and you cry.
I walk, and you run.
I leave, and you don’t come back.
And I go out searching for you.
And we are back together again.
We play this game forever
As it all repeats over and over…on and on…

Poem: 6 am philosophy

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

It is not here or there,
It’s deep inside our minds and souls,
It’s hidden yet we all can see it,
It’s showing only when it’s time to.
The madness of the world
And the comfort of the early mornings,
The crazy of modern life
And the future that is so uncertain,
It’s what keeps us up at night
And crazy all throughout the day.
One never knows what life is
Until you’ve reached that point
Of madness and despair.
You and I will be there soon,
And all of us, at some point.
There is no escape from life,
There is no end to this future
That is so uncertain and thrilling,
And it keeps us going, all the time.