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Best Poems Written by Aunna Jones

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

Details | Aunna Jones Poem

If He Were a Book I'D Pull a Heist

just an average typical morning within this same old town
avoiding all the neighbors that nosily creep these grounds
while all these other folks keep busy bodying gossiping and all
who has whiter teeth, bigger boobs, or the cutest guy at the mall
i stopped at the library to dodge all these illiterate snots
the only place that's quite enough for me to organize my thoughts
i walked in just to be stopped, breathless, dead in my tracks
a book, not made of paper or even hard back
binding was some type of stitched authenticism
bound with a beautiful articulate collage of pattern to it

I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it

I stood there for a second, which felt like a lifetime
must have been reading stars, because it left my mind blind
if only just once I could hold that masteredpiece written classic
I can't lie it was perfect man, I just had to have it
I gasped for a moment, dead in my body
frozen and stunned hoping nobody saw me
it crossed my mind for a split, then, I thought
nah shit
if I get caught I'd be a goner, but I just couldn't wait any longer

I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it

I darted for that case in a flash and I shattered that glass
busted it open, like I was late for literature class
static shocked a little as the book touched my hand
it was in that moment i knew i was the #1 fan
then it wasn't long I realized it was written for me
initials imprinted so there was no questioning

I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it

I fell deep into the title it really 'hit a line'
bold, italics, with a dedication underlined
I wasn't sure why I needed or wanted to own it
but I would have searched forever if I would have known it
searching every library for a perfect story
all the titles and endings just really seem to bore me
this one was special I just wanted to trace over the print
read. every small detail. no need for suspense

Details | Aunna Jones Poem

Chemicaly Inbrain Chemically Insane

Chemicaly InBrain? Chemically Insane?
people so quick to turn to science for answers,
but can't understand chemicals in the brain?
Such sheltered mentality here,
an unbalance has been placed,
with different chemicals to change perceptions,
to keep everyone in a foggy state.
So they concoct together all these chemicals,
keeping this haze of light,
different colors flashing,
but they push you further from realities sight.
To see things clear you must find the balance,
but not with drugs or alcohol,
not by popping pills, or lean,
but by seeking your spirits call!
You can not follow everyone else,
most do not know where they are going,
half don't even know where they are now,
the just aimlessly roam, without knowing.
Smoke this they will say,
Drink this and take that,
mixing toxins inside, oblivious of facts.
They start with one for others always follow,
make it easy to kill them,
with something to swallow.
Unknowingly falling into this pattern,
'just try it' they'll say,
feeling high for now,
but your mind and body later will pay.
Do not fall for these tricks into suppression,
let the bird brains drink this poisonous spell,
not much on conspiracy theories,
but sure seems like it's been planned well.
They say they wanna rid 80%
by even poisoning water supplies,
a special place in hell awaits,
for demons like that to burn alive.
Do you understand how chemistry works?
Or do you just choose your 'favorite' facts and fiction?
Nit picking through to your perceptional liking,
There, is the reality difference.
'Hush' they say, 'How dare you'!
Speak such atrocities,
'We are your leaders' they tell us,
but they're not the boss of me!
Oh but they think they own us,
keeping us in a trance,
going broke buying our death,
signing our own certificates in advance.
Waiting to collect pocket change,
scrapping up pharmaceutical industry pennies,
they act like they fix your 'imbalance',
tricking you into becoming a guinea.
I know to so many people,
things like this are just a theory,
seeing things for one's self,
differences of how intentions appearing.
I am aware, when it comes to something real,
people label it with a 'controversy',
just another way to suppress a subjects,
they are uncomfortable with facing.
Or they get defensive,
because they know I'm speaking the truth,
where they don't have the boots to stand,
I'm still looking out for our future youth!

Details | Aunna Jones Poem

Riddle Me

Riddle me that 
Riddle me this
A puzzle of a piece of mind
That's been unhinged
Lost, misplaced, swept up under
If someone else found it
Would they keep it I wonder?
Throw it away, or add it to a collection?
Of all these lost peices,
In a lost and found section?
Such beautiful pictures, 
Together, fit perfectly made
But now just collect dust.
And someday will fade.
Colors change, mix, and blend.
Into a new picture.
How will they look in the end?
Riddle me this 
Riddle me that
With each others help
We can put together, this puzzle, back.

Details | Aunna Jones Poem

Weeping Willow

Weeping Willow.
Why must you cry?
For with every season, changing,
a part of you must die.
One cannot keep blowing around the same leaves,
as you did when you were a younger bark.
Remember when you were the only tree here,
before they built this park?
Life cycles and stages to evolve,
we all must adapt.
For something to grow beautifully,
we must accept that.
We are built to be strong,
and light up this place.
No need to rush things,
swiftly move with grace.
Feel the wild, warm, breeze, on the summer days,
the calm, resting, quite, from winters embrace.
The birds who once nested,
high in your trees,
also move on to raise their own families.
The flowers that die, bloom again next year,
for a brighter shade next time,
fields of rainbows will appear.
All the animals and bugs,
go into a deep stage of sleep,
A time of reflection and balance to keep.
For when they all wake,
a new age they have reached,
a second chance to live,
and learn, and to teach.
Someday when you are just a stump here,
all you have nurtured will flourish, my dear,
all that you created, cared for and loved,
will thrive on long after, your time here is done.
So love while your here,
and have faith for when your gone,
that you did your best,
to help this place carry on!

Details | Aunna Jones Poem

Dear Dude At the Bar

Don't slide your arm around my shoulder
unless you want yours to be dislocated
Don't try to tell me I'm beautiful
trust me it's overstated and overrated
Don't ask me if you can get me a shot
I'll probably give you some lip
not the kind your thinking though
more like replying with will you make it hollow tip?
Don't try to tell me you'll take me 
to places I've never been
Like where an abandon warehouse
covered in plastic is that what you intend?
Trust me it's for your own good so just stay on over there
cuz i don't always play well with others
and i never said the game was fair
a million others just like you sweet talking all the time
the same words to all the girls dumb enough to fall behind
Now this is nothing personal your not the first to try
I'm sorry it has to be this way but your just another guy

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Ignorance Explicit

Ignorance is f****g bliss?
Are you kidding me?
Ignorance makes me f****g pissed.
Makes me wanna cut someone.
Or slit my own damn wrist's.
Who ever said that expression?
I would really like to meet.
Probably end on a bad note.
Cops laying out white sheets.
Blood would f***g be spilled.
Not enough rain or liquor,
to wash it away.
Maybe I'll cover it with spray paint?
So no one will notice stains.
Why do they say it's blissful?
It would be a dreadful day.
When I would give up common sense.
To be stuck in an oblivious state.
Find the f****g knowledge!
Don't you understand,
cause and effect?
The way thing's work around you.
What?
Because it isn't direct?
But what if were?
You dumba*** bird brain.
People can't think right anymore.
Better get some text books,
not text messages,
you stupid wh**es.
That type of thinking.
Is why the world is going to sh**.
Nobody cares for anyone else.
Not their problems to deal with?
Not that I am saying there should be no privacy.
But if sh** ain't right,
it just ain't right.
But so much sh** goes on in the dark.
Somebody has to bring it to light.
So just go on about your selfish way.
Not bothering with others.
Though you should remember this.
We are all stuck on this planet with one another.

Details | Aunna Jones Poem

Batman My Dark Knight

Batman, my dark knight,
why can't you be real?
I love you so deeply,
in ways, I didn't know I could feel.
Flying around,
with your kool cape and your belt,
send me a bat signal,
in case I need help.
Let me hold your batarang's
in case there's a Joker,
a rash ointment for Poison Ivy,
Catwoman? I'll choke her.
Bring it on Penguin,
with your cripple a** legs,
Two Faced can suck it,
Bane! Yal are dead!
Riddler I'll let you off easy,
but only because I find you
really fun and intriguing.
Gotham is yours,
as am I,
Batman I love you,
my super awesome
Dark Knight!

Details | Aunna Jones Poem

A Ship Not a Poem Proceed With Caution

Sometimes I feel like a ship.
A big empty ship, torn sails,
all messed up from crashing myself into rocks and other crap.
Meanwhile, while I'm out weathering this stormy sea all alone all the other ships at the harbor just sailing around with their beautiful perfect sails, and fresh paint, and usually a captain who would make Fabio jealous!
They sail around with their captain and crew on deck.
Yet here I am, oh don't mind me, I'm just here for when you need someone to tow your ship back to the harbor when yal have had to much......salt water!
Or you need to borrow something.......you want to use my anchor fine, use it,
I hope you anchor somewhere desolate, where mad men live, they commandeer you, torture you in some random act of barbarianism, somewhere lost at sea, attacked by evil pirates with bad breath and one eye Kirk just stares at you the whole time!
Even if that did happen not sure I'd feel any better I'd still be out here in this big ocean trying to find my way to a nice quiet harbor somewhere far away from the others, pretty sure I'd get tired of them shooting off their loud a** cannons all the time,
showing off how 'rad' they are * in my frat boy voice*
What if I need a crew sometimes maybe my anchor gets stuck and I need help?
They would just let me sink, fine, go ahead,
but someday I will shoot off my cannons and well...not sure how the harbor will be after that!

Details | Aunna Jones Poem

Equations

Sometimes we should subtract ourselves, leave unsolving equations.
Overwhelming possibilities, numerical infatuations.
Infinite answers, solutions your overanalyzing.
Try different techniques, ideas can be tantalyzing.
Add some patience, multiplying consecutively.
Make sure you divide energy, distribute it equally.
Not a mathematician, or a numerologist.
Someone attempting solving problems that persist.

Details | Aunna Jones Poem

I'M Tired of Talking, I'M Talking Real Tired

I'm tired of talking,
I'm talking real tired,
I need to fly away from this,
but I can't get up any higher,
there's some kind of barricade,
it feels like an obstacle course,
I need to silence the constant static,
but, I just can't figure out the source,
I got no elbow room,
no space, i need some vacancy,
I write to discredit the invalidation,
and all the other negativity,
but, I can't help but having ups and downs,
it's not great but I somehow manage,
so I write now, instead of talking,
I learned to use this as an advantage.