Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Literature / Hobbyist James DavisMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 5 Months
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 36 Deviations 60 Comments 335 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

Mature content
Either Way :iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 0 0
When You're Fuzzy
When you're little and fuzzy,
No one takes you seriously.
But be as friendly as you can
And you’ll get a lot of love.
It’s sit and stay and lie down.
You enjoy a tiled ground.
Try to be as good a boy as you can be,
But you’ll never understand those strange two-legged beings.
They tower above.
But usually when you’re cute and fuzzy,
Those same giants stop to give you treats.
Rub your belly, play with your feet.
Give you long walks beside the street.
Let you chew on a sock or a glove.
The world is a very simple place to you,
Fed twice a day, let outside to pee.
Your small brain has small thoughts.
Unlike your masters and their big ideas.
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 2 3
Mature content
Defensive Driving Is A Gun In The Glovebox :iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 0 0
Writers Block Is A Degenerative Disease
Sometimes you have a song in your heart.
But you can't find the rhyme.
Or you can’t paint that great image in your mind.
Because you just can’t find the time.
Like being the worlds greatest speaker
Who’s just lost his voice.
A sprinter with a broken leg and new sneakers.
A child with a record breaking collection of broken toys.
Maybe you’re a dove with a clipped wing.
A beautiful soprano unable to sing.
A pitiful, sad, useless thing.
That's lost its very reason for being.
Writing is a process with stages.
Scribble down what you feel, fear no blank pages.
But it feels like you lock yourself in these cages.
Your brain tripping over your words like an aphasic,
You need to get back to basics.
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 1 0
You Have A Voice
You have a voice.
And how you use it is your choice.
Do you rear back and roar to penetrate the noise,
Or sit there gentle and silent,
A picture of posture and poise?
You should stand on top of the mountain and shout.
Rise up in the pulpit to challenge the devout.
Speak wisdom to the wise, fill the certain with doubt.
There are countless truths for you to seek out.
If its purpose is that of a weapon, use it well.
Shatter the darkness in your own personal Hell.
Perhaps you’ll speak softly, but still clear as a bell.
Be sure to live a life with a story to tell.
You have a voice, but don’t forget your fist.
That balled quivering thing affixed to your wrist.
It reminds you you must always persist.
Even if your first point was missed.
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 3 5
Day Shift Blues
Holding down the end table in the break room.
Dissecting my navel orange with a plastic knife.
While a rambling, mumbling coworker, crazy as a loon.
Makes me genuinely afraid for my life.
He whispers in my ear that all women are bad,
If they don't all love the saints in Heaven.
I just sit there nodding, trying not to get stabbed.
And prematurely go upstairs to meet them.
An uneasy feeling, wishing I could forget.
The one-sided talk with a man less than mentally sound.
But I grudgingly remind myself that I am a poet.
And obligated to write things like these down.
So here it is, a couple short stanzas.
Another chance to exercise my gift.
Of putting words together in a way you’d understand,
An isolated incident on the day shift.
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 1 0
Mature content
Real Country :iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 0 0
Perennial Loser
Hey, you, perennial loser.
Look at how battered your shoes are.
Don’t you have somewhere better to be than here?
You seem like a beggar dreaming to be a chooser.
Look at you, pretty lady!
Can’t help but notice your self-flagellating.
Wishing you had the looks of those more captivating.
I don’t suppose you’ve looked in a mirror lately?
And you, brother, always on your knees.
Never living up to those too hard to please.
Aren't you tired of subservience to folks such as these?
You can become the architect of your own release.
Last but not least is you, reflection.
Constantly craving undeserved affection.
You have a complex for pain and self-destruction.
You require motivation to ward off the alienation.
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 0 0
Not Fit For A Sunbeam
Jesus wouldn’t want me for a sunbeam,
Rather, he couldn't use me as one.
Perhaps I’d be better service as a raincloud.
As I’ve never been much in favor of the sun.
When I die, I want to come back the way I feel.
I’ve certainly spent enough waking time in one place.
When I die, I want to be reminded that I was real.
And not just the dream of someone else’s God.
Jesus shouldn't use me as a sunbeam.
Although he thinks he should.
Being bright is something I’m no good at.
Never even thought that I could.
And in the end, I guess I’ve always wanted
To live a life of quiet overcast,
Gray and silent and undaunted.
No ray of sun would even waste its time.
It’s possible Jesus doesn’t need me for a sunbeam.
There’s plenty of other people.
Knowing the offer would do nothing but demean,
He’d reclassify me to a better position.
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 2 0
Aging Rockstar
The skyline is like broken teeth
In the mouth of a great big beast.
You struggle just to get out alive.
The streetlights routine
Is from red to green
And if it’s the prettiest thing
That you’ve ever seen
In a long while,
It’s time to leave.
They turn out lights
At the bar for the night
The end was always in sight
And you just want one more
But it’s time to go.
The lines on your face
Betray how you’ve aged
As you stand on the stage
Singing, “Turn The Page”
But no one cheers at all.
You’re getting old.
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 0 0
I Want To Hold You With Nuclear Arms
I can’t wait to hold you with nuclear arms.
Feel you fall to pieces as heat and light.
Uncountable tiny particles of you.
I want to feel you melt steel.
Beams like candles and roofs like dead leaves.
Twisted and mangled wreckage; useless and irreparable.
I want to watch you implode.
A kiss flash-sealing your mouth shut.
And knock the breath from your lungs.
I want to blow you away with freight train force.
Affection at a thousand miles per hour and devotion unyielding.
Crumble and turn to dust.
And I want to love you over decades.
Lingering pain and illness, a reminder that
Contaminates everything you know and see.
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 2 4
Big Shoulders Blues
I love my hometown, it’s name is Chicago.
Now, you’ve got to love your hometown, girl, and mine’s name is Chicago.
She’s big and bright and beautiful, “Baby, don’t you want to go?”
She’s the home of the blues, Lord, she knows just how I feel.
The home of the blues, Lord, she most definitely knows how I feel.
I love every inch of her, from the lakefront out to Naperville.
She’s got big bad politicians, she’s got gamblers and crooks.
She’s got World Series Champions, sure, she’s got gamblers and crooks.
You don’t need to have me tell you, you can read about it in the books.
Her neighborhoods are bleeding, babe, but she’s still standing tall.
Now, the neighborhoods are bleeding, girl, but she’s still standing tall.
It’s a hard and rough place, you better get tough or lose it all.
From Daley to Emanuel, Lord, everybody loves to blame the mayor.
From Daley to Emanuel, Lord, everybody loves blamin
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 0 0
Looking For My Baby Blues
I’m looking for my baby, Lord, I’m looking all around.
Yes, I’m looking for my baby, Lord, I’m looking all around.
She up and left me in the night and now she’s nowhere to be found.
I called up the newspaper, had to pay to print your photo.
Lord, I called up that newspaper, they want five dollars for your photo.
But I ain’t got much money, babe, so your face they wouldn’t show.
I asked all over town, girl, checked with all your girlfriends.
Yes, I asked everyone in town, babe, even checked with all your girlfriends.
With my hands coming up empty, Lord, this nightmare never ends.
Now you could be in Kansas, or even as far as New Orleans.
You could be in Kansas, or way down in New Orleans.
I gotta find my baby, I’ll even sail all seven seas.
I’m looking for my baby, Lord, I’m looking all around.
Yes, I’m looking for my baby, best believe I’m looking all around.
I’ll keep searching all my days, until my soul is
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 0 0
The Abyss
A man stands on the lip of an endless white expanse.
He teeters on the edge of abyss but maintains his balance.
He leans over the cliff and steals a glance.
Thinks maybe he’ll do well to take his chances.
No matter how hard he squints, he can’t see bottom.
The treasures that could be down there, he can’t even fathom.
He wants them all but he’s entitled to none.
Unaware of the fate of those flying too close to the sun.
In this ashen place, his curiosity piques.
The answers are hidden, all he wants is a peek.
Because only in here does he feel complete,
Uncovering demons best left asleep.
He finds it difficult to understand this.
The torment of uncertainty over this precipice.
He leans a bit farther, his position precarious.
When all of a sudden, he feels a slight shove.
Not done out of malice, but rather of love.
As if something in the abyss beckoned him to follow,
He smiles as he plummets to his discovery below.
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 0 0
In Effect, Ineffectual
You are nothing.
Less than anything.
Part of a process that has no meaning,
A lost cause with no hope.
A fraying strand on the end of a rope.
You were something.
Once a significant thing.
The world danced on a string as your very plaything.
You had promise at once point.
But now it all feels out of joint.
This is hard for you to hear.
It truly is a heavy load to bear.
The realization pains as it rips and tears.
Your life is one of billions.
Likely to leave nothing behind to mark your existence.
Yes, you are small.
In effect, ineffectual.
A drop in the torrential.
But even if this is true, it is no cause to weep.
For only the inconsequential is truly free.
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 0 0
Oh, Misery Mine
Oh, misery mine,
What have you done?
Why do you revel in ruin?
In despair do you find fun?
Oh, heartache mine,
Why are you still here?
The past is gone, lost in time.
Yet you remain, a souvenir
Oh, memory mine,
How long has it been?
The brighter days have lost their shine.
My soul has blackened from within.
Oh, despondency mine,
At your limit; will you grow no more?
Is there truly a low place you can find,
Worth sacrificing sunshine for?
:iconbigshoulders:BigShoulders 0 0


It's a trap! by ramy It's a trap! :iconramy:ramy 3,121 184
Mature content
I Hate That Table :iconloiseauanxieux:Loiseauanxieux 1 3
Mature content
january :iconloiseauanxieux:Loiseauanxieux 1 5
Alien Day 2017 by Deimos-Remus Alien Day 2017 :icondeimos-remus:Deimos-Remus 204 15
In A Field Of Words (Repost)
Away, far away, grows a flower of the deepest green
With golden flecks along the petals, that shine like stars above
Away, far away, grows a flower of my deepest dreams
My heart forever captivated by the beauty it contains
In a far off distant land, where the sun and moon collide
I was walking through a field of words, unable to find beauty
I could not find the word I wanted, for uninspired I was blind
Until my eyes set gaze upon the flower that has never left my mind
How beautiful it did appear, how beautiful it truly was
A match for this dream turned to reality, there is surely none
What good are words when there exists embodiment of beauty pure
A flower shining as the sun located in a world of shadows
Away, far away, grows a flower after my own heart
I could have plucked it then and there and bore it away, far away
But out of greatest love to see it prosper, and fear of a world without
I left it there, among my words, to brighten the world another day
Away, far away, grows a flower
:iconishouldntsay:IShouldntSay 3 10
he's just not that into you
long-legged and twitching
like the spiders
you watch run
down the
he doesn’t call
you pretty. you remember
his hands tracing the ink
of your veins, but he
doesn’t call you pretty.
he doesn’t hold
the door, and you
think you’re a liar
but the truth is quivering
naked in your voice
(we will name our children after
extinct kingdoms; dead beautiful
things. i will polish the dull spot
in your eye that you developed
after a terminal case of unnoticed
living. i will never be a cure but
damn it if i won’t be a diagnosis)
the static of his vocal chords
brings you back, martyr
without a cause,
he doesn’t call
you pretty and you
don’t question why.
:iconintricately-ordinary:intricately-ordinary 265 145
A Cup of Coffee (Full)
On the first day I know I saw him, I woke up early in the morning for work. I got out of my bed and folded the sheets at the edge. It is more important than most people realize to make your bed every day. Then, the first task of the day is done. The day is started with accomplishment from real work, even if it is only a small effort. It gives you the right mindset of organization and productivity.
Next, I showered. I used the best soaps and shampoo I can get. Personal presentation is always important. Even if it seems no one notices, your cleanliness will affect how people treat you, and can be the first obstacle to success.
I shaved with a straight razor. Using a straight razor takes a bit more effort. It is a skill that needs to be developed, but leads to better results. Whenever given the opportunity, I always work to develop a skill, rather than take the easier route.
Finally I got dressed. I have an array of suits ready, in a variety of different colors. Each color could mean some
:iconericambm:EricAMBM 79 56
Mind Game
Pick a card from the shuffled deck
Close your eyes and breathe in slow
Floating fingers as wind on grass
Stay very still as the trick unfolds
Shift the lucky handsome devil
Inches closer to Heart’s drumroll
What thrill it brings of great suspense
To choose beyond all fears unknown
Slow racing thoughts burn through the ore
An almost kiss on luscious bliss
Pound the fire on tempest’s froth
Swallow swift delicious sin
Swivel forth the ocean maze
Drifting pops of poison air
Cast the shadows of falling spades
Hide and seek with Joker’s wraith
Draw the lines on sightless traces
Trimming all the truths of queer
Tread far on nightmares cliffless
Count time on Deception’s grin
Ashes bathe the pilfered portrait
Bereft from a start of false
A million frames so duly conjured
In minds of no one’s hold
Lay the aces upon the table
Siren songs in sweet implore
On bloodlust playing secrets
Shall you crown thyself no more
:icondsteffi:DSteffi 15 5
The Silent Machine by haikuo The Silent Machine :iconhaikuo:haikuo 221 11
Mechanical Man
A mechanical man,
Rusted, stuck, and sulking on his gears and joints
Knees bent solid, and feet planted in the dry concrete
Forever frozen with birdseed in his hands
White feathers and waste adorn his hair
And the only sign of life is his watering eyes
As slow as paint dries
Unblinking in the face of Ra
There's no oil can on the other side of the rainstorm of rays
He tries to twiddle his thumbs
Recalling how they once whirred and cranked
A nonchalant humming against the squawking of his feathered friends
The past is all he has anymore.
Nothing but metal gone hot in the sun
Festering flesh broiling in a tin can
Children roasting marshmallows in the heat
Radiating off his legs
And he sits, grinding his teeth against aluminum foil
Wondering how they can even handle his scent
Blisters on the flesh and paint chipping off the steel
He waits for an oil can and a glass of wine
A sign by his lap with a top-hat of pennies
"Will work for food", the cardboard reads
But all that passerby by seem to
:iconemerald-alexandria:Emerald-Alexandria 33 17


With several strange hiccups occurring at work, the past few weeks have been nothing but grueling, overtime filled slogs that seem to go on forever.  As such, i have been unable to write anything and subsequently post here as frequently as I would have liked.

None of that suggests that I have been creatively lazy.  Despite crushing hours, I have had a few poems in the chamber to release, which I hope the random, silent visitors I get here will enjoy.

As always, I appreciate anyone friendly enough to drop me some constructive criticism on whatever I write.
  • Listening to: "Painting" - Atmosphere
  • Reading: A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius
  • Watching: The Pacific
  • Playing: Resident Evil 7: biohazard
  • Eating: Day-And-A-Half-Old Mac And Cheese
  • Drinking: Beefeater Gin And Tonic Water


Add a Comment:
LadyPleiades Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you much for the :+fav: - appreciate it!
BigShoulders Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
You're very welcome! I hope you have a chance to read the rest of my submissions! I always welcome notes! :)
LadyPleiades Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Sure will! I'll reciprocate the watch with a big fat "Thank you for the watch!" :heart:
BigShoulders Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
And you are welcome again!
IShouldntSay Featured By Owner Jan 24, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the Favourite! appreciate it
BigShoulders Featured By Owner Jan 25, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
But of course! :)
haikuo Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2017
Hi BigShoulders. Welcome to deviantart! :deviantart:
BigShoulders Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you!  I appreciate that! :)
Add a Comment: