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<title>Poetry Blog RSS feed for Jacked-in WRITTEN</title><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/index.html</link><description>The latest poems from Jason</description><dc:language>en</dc:language><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><dc:rights>Copyright 2006 Jacked-in</dc:rights><dc:date>2008-04-18T23:50:02+09:00</dc:date><admin:generatorAgent rdf:resource="http://www.realmacsoftware.com/" />
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<lastBuildDate>Fri, 18 Apr 2008 23:55:00 +0900</lastBuildDate><item><title>Juno inspired poem</title><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><category>Spontaneous</category><dc:date>2008-04-18T23:50:02+09:00</dc:date><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/juno_inspired_poem_february_24_2008.html#unique-entry-id-9</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/juno_inspired_poem_february_24_2008.html#unique-entry-id-9</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[written where:  Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan


where exactly:  in my apartment


written with:       computer


when:  February 24, 2008


inspired to write this poem by the lyrics in the songs in the JUNO soundtrack


I hear broken hearts make you strong,


If so I should be able to lift the world.


But what pain would that end?


Where is she now?


She's still my friend,


At least that's what dreams portend.


In the end.
]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Untitled -- Allusion to Her series</title><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><category>Spontaneous</category><dc:date>2008-04-18T23:47:12+09:00</dc:date><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/allusion_to_her_series_poem_april_02_2008.html#unique-entry-id-8</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/allusion_to_her_series_poem_april_02_2008.html#unique-entry-id-8</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[written where:  Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan


where exactly:  in my apartment


written with:       whiteboard


when:  April 02, 2008


How many men have said you are beautiful?


None, one, or a ton?


How you answer equals our fun.


But no time for your answer now.


See, I have to run.


For nothing is as beautiful as the setting sun.]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Untitled rhyming poem</title><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><category>Abstract</category><dc:date>2008-04-18T23:43:04+09:00</dc:date><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/made_of_brine_poem_january_2008.html#unique-entry-id-7</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/made_of_brine_poem_january_2008.html#unique-entry-id-7</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[written where:  Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan


where exactly:  in my apartment


written with:       whiteboard?


when:  approximately January 2008


Cross that line, it is made of brine.


That was another time, a previous pine.


Crossed and out of place in no space,


Bred by beavers from bubble gum & lace.


Crssing a timely ruin still doing,


Another Wednesday spent fooling.
]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Poem from a Dream series</title><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><category>Free Thought</category><dc:date>2008-04-18T23:40:25+09:00</dc:date><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/dreams_from_the_night_poem_january_2008.html#unique-entry-id-6</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/dreams_from_the_night_poem_january_2008.html#unique-entry-id-6</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[written where:  Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan


where exactly:  my desk in my apartment


written with:       pen & notebook


when:  January 17, 2008


Dreams from the Night,


Fly into my Day.


It was bullets first,


Then alligators,


Forests last, over the fly.


Gauge was there, lightly.


And then . . . .
]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Zeroes and Ones</title><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><category>Free Thought</category><dc:date>2006-11-17T17:17:27+09:00</dc:date><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/zeroesandones.html#unique-entry-id-5</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/zeroesandones.html#unique-entry-id-5</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[written where:  Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan


where exactly:  my desk in my apartment


written with:       pen & notebook


when:  November 16, 2006 -- 2:09am


I saw my dreams die,


in pixels.


Zeroes and ones commanded my fate.


 That's how it was delivered,


    this time.


Nothing grandiose.


    Just naughts and ones.


Zeroes and ones PUT me on this path.


      Gone to one.


      Gone to zero, not quite yet.
]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Hyogo Hipster Cafe Poem Series....part 3</title><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><category>Humor</category><dc:date>2006-11-02T22:39:57+09:00</dc:date><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/a7a8f2d0dc81ea1367441cef8247741b-4.html#unique-entry-id-4</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/a7a8f2d0dc81ea1367441cef8247741b-4.html#unique-entry-id-4</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[written where:  Tajima, Hyogo, Japan


where exactly:  chill, hipster cafe


written with:       pen & notebook


when:  Saturday July 01, 2006 -- 9:55pm-ish


BOOM, BOOM THE SOUND OF THIS ROOM


Boom, Boom the sound of this room.


I came her from a natural tomb.


Bush and light cross reflections


over the low rise intersections.


Blue is glass and pink is juice


built on hill like a peregrine's roost.


Bought were paint by obasans


gone are customer's expectations.


Barrels house pickles of dill


all is reflected upon the 


			wide


			     window


			                sill.
]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Hyogo Hipster Cafe Poem Series....part 2</title><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><category>Free Thought</category><dc:date>2006-11-02T22:37:07+09:00</dc:date><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/4a45b068f8c4e73b90832a494049ddb6-3.html#unique-entry-id-3</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/4a45b068f8c4e73b90832a494049ddb6-3.html#unique-entry-id-3</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[written where:  Tajima, Hyogo, Japan


where exactly:  chill, hipster cafe


written with:       pen & notebook


when:  Saturday July 01, 2006 -- 9:45pm-ish


UNTITLED


I feel thoughts falling


	From my eyes.


I am always alone,


	Save for when I am with


				The Sea.


The only constant in this world


				The Sea.


It speaks to me of solace


				The Sea.


It saves me from dying


				The Sea.
]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Hyogo Hipster Cafe Poem Series....part 1</title><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><category>Free Thought</category><dc:date>2006-11-02T22:31:22+09:00</dc:date><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/c84593e7b5ab113d3bddce940172503a-2.html#unique-entry-id-2</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/c84593e7b5ab113d3bddce940172503a-2.html#unique-entry-id-2</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[written where:  Tajima, Hyogo, Japan


where exactly:  chill, hipster cafe


written with:       pen & notebook


when:  Saturday July 01, 2006 -- 9:30pm-ish


HOUSES SO CLOSE TOGETHER, ONCE . . . .


We are like houses so close together,


They share the same reflection in the water.


You are my hope, so fragile,


I can't even reach for it.


I still may not be saved,


And you even say you can't do only what I need you to do.


But I forgive you, because,


Once you smiled at me,


Once I made you girlishly laugh,


Once I touched your long hair,


Once you said don't die,


Once you said you couldn't save me . . . .
]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>&#x22;Clasped Couples&#x22;</title><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><category>Free Thought</category><dc:date>2006-11-01T01:30:47+09:00</dc:date><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/60c49669919c3480965e2d4c8bed9faa-0.html#unique-entry-id-0</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/60c49669919c3480965e2d4c8bed9faa-0.html#unique-entry-id-0</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[written where:  Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan


where exactly:  the bridge over the train tracks between the Southern Terrace and Tokyu Hands 


written with:       pen & notebook


when:  Tuesday October 31, 2006 -- 10pm


Couples clasped together,


They are my enemies . . . .


Train goes under . . . .


Chimney walks by . . . .


They are my enemies.


A long forest is crowded,


But it is that clasped couple,


That is my enemy . . . .


Guardians of a secret, but seen pleasure world,


That I cannot enter.


Those bastards . . . .


Their smooth edges make mine rougher . . . .


My round edges chafe when I look upon them . . . .


Their walls show my Freedom.


A freedom to let flow my anger unabated,


Till it courses in unison with my blood metastasizing through me.


Truth comes only when you don't hold back . . . .


How can it come while holding the hand of the fairer?


There's only room for one out the out door . . . . 
]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>&#x22;Jack says . . . &#x22;</title><dc:creator>Jason Collin</dc:creator><category>Free Thought</category><dc:date>2006-10-11T01:44:59+09:00</dc:date><link>http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/9db09e651a7d9f96df70916b615e1221-1.html#unique-entry-id-1</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.jasoncollin.org/poetryblog/files/9db09e651a7d9f96df70916b615e1221-1.html#unique-entry-id-1</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[written where:  Akasaka-Mitsuke, Tokyo, Japan


where exactly:  the foot of the Prudential Building 


written with:       pen & notebook


when:  Wednesday October 11, 2006 --  5:55pm


Jack says we are born to die,


I'm vexed by masses of molecules mixed together reflecting light back to my brain.


Long do I stare at them looking for cracks.


Looking for a way IN.


To find a way OUT.
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