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Best Poems Written by Tahj Jones

Below are the all-time best Tahj Jones poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Tahj Jones Poem

The Step

As I sit back at watch the world become depraved
I think about the one foot I have in this instagrave
The countless angles, of shoot after shoot
Late night edits, trying to find my proof

That what I captured mattered
That it may mean something when all else is tattered

This step I may take, on the edge of sanity
Stuck with this vertigo and complimentary profanity
Like a video game exit menu asking if I’m sure
If I am ready to abandon all just to begin pure

What if I did do it and in turn make a book?
And all one had to do was just take a look?
To be granted the knowledge to free one’s self
At the cost of having to leave ones wealth

Would it even matter?
Or is this just another literary leaky bladder?

As I stand at the edge and look to the skies
I finally understand why the caged bird cries
To leap is a freedom only one can give oneself
It is a moment of truth, a moment of wealth

It does not matter if its flight or fall
The only thing that matters is that I gave it my all
And for just a moment I knew a dream deferred
One that no longer left me feeling unnerved 

For that moment, I felt the sun on my skin
And for that moment, I knew my kin
I was a child running buck wild
My problems free to walk that green mile

Because finally this sandstorm in my mind
Grinds to a halt and stops in time
A hurricane of ideas in this place of mine
Can finally be touched explored and refined

All I need to do is step
And not worry anymore about those who wept
For today could be like thanksgiving with yams
All I have to do to have it is just delete Instagram

Details | Tahj Jones Poem

Beauty Has No Age

Did you know that beauty knows no age?
It's not bound by a year, to be locked in a cage.
Nor meant to be forced to be anything but itself.
For loving thy self is the key to the highest heath.
So before you look at that blemish in a panic or rage
Remember that beauty has no age.

Details | Tahj Jones Poem

I Am

Who are you to look upon I as if I can fit into the pages of a book?
As if one glance can fit this eternal ocean right in its nook?
As if I can be bounded up in the cover
Tightened by a string, escorted by punctuation, while I wait for your words to be able to sing.

Who are you to label me?
As if I can be captured by your words. My name gets choked up in vocals, as I pull on the chords.

I am who I am, nothing less
I am not defined by your constructed tests
I am the fire in you soul, the beat in your chest
I am greater than your law, I stand above the rest

You will address me as such

Details | Tahj Jones Poem

Breeze

Like the soothing roar of the ocean, I can feel it
As it skips gently over stones unturn, I yearn to be it
It tickles my nose, ruffles my clothes, and wonders where I've been
I realize in all this running around, I've forgotten my good friend
A friend who held my hand when we were little kids
As we ran and hid from all the silly things we did
Who kissed me on the forehead and dried my tears
When the deepest pain only confirmed my fears
After all these years it still brings me to my knees
That I can listen to the ocean and her breeze

Details | Tahj Jones Poem

What Is Justice

What is justice to those who are not apart of society?
I say this with a clear mind with no need for a test of sobriety
A society works by each have a need
An agreement is formed by each willing to feed
In their own way to make us whole
For our survival is our main goal

What happens when society no longer needs someone?
When they are looked upon and not regarded as a daughter or son?
Then what is justice to the homeless?
No property, forever known as the throne-less
Scrapping over scraps, neglected to be fed
Left on the side of the road for dead

What is justice to them, when no one will speak
When even the best handout will last only a week?

What happens when one no longer needs society?
When one amasses such a wealth, that they no longer live piously?
When ones authority is defined by ones superiority
Towards a society that becomes the beggar for ones generosity
Deplorable acts have no weight, no more than choosing food on a plate
Because society demonstrates it cares more about its fate

What is justice to them? Who can bend a nation at a whim?
When death cost pocket change even when its on film?

Now what happens when one no longer needs or is needed
A clean divorce with no kids to be mistreated
Off into the wilderness to find for ones self
When once riches ultimately come from ones health
There is no police to call, no one to judge
No one around to even hold a grudge

What is justice to him?, the savage in the land of plenty
Who watches us in our system shackled to a penny

Details | Tahj Jones Poem

Without a Calling

It gets quiet way down here in the deep
Yet I have found not an ounce of peace
It hurts but not like a physical or emotional creep
Its a spiritually crushing way, like a knee from the police

I walk on the floor of this deep dark ocean
As it seem I cannot sink and lower
Its like I'm in a desert of the forever frozen
Looking up at stars grooving as I get colder

They seem so happy, twinkling up so far
I try to reach out to them, but I'm no star
That kind of happiness is not meant for me
I guess this is just who I am meant to be

If I had wings I would soar
Out beyond the clouds
I would sample happiness forever more
And be so proud

But I'm no soaring angle, at best one of the fallen
Who fell from love, in the great above
And landed without a calling

Details | Tahj Jones Poem

Bartender

I swam through a ocean of illusion
Dying of thirst
Going through the motions of confusion
Fearing the worst
I came upon her canteen
Seeking a cup of real
If for nothing else
A sip for my last meal

Details | Tahj Jones Poem

The Laureate

I remember sitting among the poets in this place of arts
Where curved brushes painted blushes of artists open hearts
Our art could be confined to paper, but really it was meant to fly
Like a caged bird beats its wings, these words seek the sky

Only on the lips of faith, they leaped from the pages
And danced around the room, turning citizens into sages
Awakening something so deep, I forgot it was there
A hunger to create, and the pride to share

The words returned to the pages, content with its journey as proof
A smile touched her lips, after delivering such a truth
She quietly closed her book, as we laid there raw
For as much as we thought we knew, we were still left in awe

Of The Laureate

Details | Tahj Jones Poem

The Bullet

"Are you afraid of them?", the reporter asked
It was a blatant question, a bit too crass
One on the bleeding edge of ruthless
Even if it came off seemingly toothless

I contemplated my answer, as one should with the media
And thought of all the past shootings, from my personal Wikipedia
And responded with an allegory, to get the point across
For with the media, the truth is what often gets lost

"I am not afraid of the bullet, as it sits idle
Be it on the ground, chambered as a round, or hanging from a bible.
It is not the gun, nor who pulls the trigger
It is simply the end result of something much bigger

It is used with the intent to resolve a problem
Though the means is crude and is quite confused with how to solve them
So it does so the only way it knows how
By tearing into the problem, and pulling life out 

The thing I fear is the path it follows
It chases dreams deferred and leaves heart hollow
It passes through walls with wanton endangerment
and presses into more lives in a lethal entanglement"

The reports were silent, cameras clicking quietly
As I looked at the room, seeing a sample of society
I sighed to myself, quite done with the politics
This parade of charades and the tired bag of tricks

"Lets talk about what really ended this young man's life
Was it the bullet itself, as it caused trauma and strife?
Was it the weapon it was fired from, with a standard flashlight?
Or the officer who fired it, claiming he feared for his life?

Was it the concerned citizen who called it in?
Who gave inaccurate information that started this spin?
Information that clearly displayed the trend
That she hated the color of his skin

I say this without remorse
As a society we are fighting a symptom while ignoring its source
He died because of his color, and his color is not a sin
But what killed him was a hate that never ends

This is not something that can be solved with a bullet
It is a systemic issue, with the lives to prove it
This is an issue bigger than what we agree it to be
It is old as class warfare, as old as slavery

So my answer to your question I must say
I do not fear the bullet, no not today
What I fear is the fact that we don't talk
About the hate we see, and the path we choose to walk

Details | Tahj Jones Poem

The Rumble

I remember the rumble
It seemed so distant at first, a whisper in this urban jungle
No one seemed to notice it
There was no proof,no broken glass, no fires lit

I remember the sound of it 

It was like a earthquake that moved the entire continent of consciousness
While keeping everything in place
Our morals and ethics drifted further away
As we ran our rat race

I remember the thought of it

The pocket watch of tension winding us up
Unable to see who it is winding
People begin to shout, act out, and cut up
As if they were out of timing

I remember the feeling of it

Bit by bit we became disjointed from one another
No longer anointed, we quickly moved to strike down a brother
A sister, a mother, a child. We forever will walk that green mile
Yet somehow do it all with an Instagram smile

I remember the taste of it 

Hypocritically bitter with a hint of lemon
As the clean rights of women get trampled and hidden
Plato's guardians only protect themselves
Those of the wealthy and those who will never tell

I remember the smell of it

Was that tear gas, a train crash, or just normal pollution? 
We smell our bottled water before we drink it, hoping its the solution
Like paper mache plaster on this ecological disaster we call home
If we pay enough money, maybe we can live in a dome

I remember the sight of it

Now undeniable, issues too big to make just one liable
Its too big to fail, but not fair enough to be viable
Violence is common language, truth is in disrepair
Illusion tasty like candy, vying to be our next heir

Yet I remember 

At first they came for them, and we said nothing 
We became divided and chided the idea of one house of something
Where everyone is community, strangers and enemies too
All we have left now is fragments of the new rule

And the rumble. Can you hear it?