JD Roland is a visual poet and creative writer. A canvas painter of words. He has been a singer/songwriter for over thirty years. In 2004 he settled in a small town in southwest Colorado to begin writing fulltime. He has self-published one book of poetry “Beyond the Blue Door”. Has been Published in Ezines – The Blue doodle, World Speak Network, Helium. Anthologies – Satiated Heart, A World of Love. Graduated from Colorado Institute of Art in 1991. It’s rare to find distinction in poetry these days. Here you find a style as old as time yet as fresh as yesterday. A weaver of image, emotion, and landscape. Leave nothing left unopened, no single word for others to interpret. Devour selfishly each and every passage, he would want it no other way. I. K.
I drift within the late night shallows,
caught in tides of unending turmoil,
vigor driven like a mad parable,
busting until the pain overtakes me.
I collapse before my guild’s gate,
let through this barrier of self-pity,
standing back to regroup,
my latch drops,
my barricade flies from it’s hinges.
Release scatters my emptiness,
into the never-ending,
in twisting turning redemption,
only to fall again into self-loathing,
I take up arms,
with catapult extended,
I let loose my dignity.
I am only here to influence,
to be influenced,
all other goals are but emotions lost,
lost to winds of change,
I kneel before the eye of acceptance,
ask to be blind to man’s unending folly.
My neighbor is my reflection,
my enemy but a glimpse into my former,
for me to judge I must look past my calm,
become my enemy,
become my self-loathing,
tread upon loose sand.
I pass beyond self-doubt,
judgment ceases to capture doubt,
vines of understanding reach beyond my awakening,
into the spheres of knowledge and truth,
I wake to a beautiful day,
Beyond the Blue Door.
I break open across sloping landscape,
much like tiny parachutes,
exploited dandelions on summer’s breeze,
no intended direction,
no intended destination.
Scattered over the wide-open,
imagination’s fickle boundary,
far, expansive, pinball’s well
intended bumps and stoppers,
bouncing, buoyant, unobtrusive.
Slowing pulse of nature’s rhythm,
paper cones initiating, imitating,
reproducing each life affirming beat,
relaxed within a once eager current,
life’s tucked away tributary.