The Poetry Page

If you get tired of reading and get in the mood for some eye candy, just click on any of the links below to access my art gallery's!

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-A Small Price- On disheveled nights and moonlit vista's, we stare upon Humanity. Old as the Moon, Old as the Stars, We wait... patiently by. The Alpha and Omega is what we comprehend... understanding what is not and is. For a very small price you can know what we know. Bringing a lifetime of prosperity and happiness. But life is short and be ye forwarned, for we are Legion and you will belong to us. -Jeffrey Helms- In Observance of Valentines Day- Love be banished, forever more. The Golden glow of youth will fade behind drunken dreams and drug induced comas. Toxic shock is my stop, please. Painful memories of beauty, painful as though they are sweet. Bring forth and release my anger. Adam's apples and subtle breasts, curves of the inner thigh. Give me that pill and release my inner primal realities where vanity is fed by sins of the flesh. Love be banished, forever more. Lipstick traces on the cigarette feeds my soul its' vital fluids of passion. Look deep into the eyes of your lover...dirty secrets lie deep within. The warm brown, crystal blue, and emerald green...deceitful, and experts in lies. Learn body language and drink in the sweat of infinite flesh. Drink in the nectar of love. Play back the record. Remember not full body massages and hot skin. Refreshing, re-virginized by the purity of disease. Love be banished, forever more. Lightning strikes obelisks of steel, magma makes liquid of what it touches. Infinite and forever...there is nothing that can live up to these words. Even the stars burn out. Loneliness reigns supreme. Bacchus visits plastic people, no happiness provided. Sink your teeth into the neck of happiness and drink in its' power, until it dies. Love be banished forever more. -Jeffrey Helms- -Black and Purple- Make a wish on lacy underwear, black and purple...it matters not. Tim Curry...the look of sex, Transvestitism. Fill his cup to the top with cider drinks and sex wax. Join the refreshing brew of joy juice to catch the wave of pre-pubescent fury. Starry nights and moonlit skies, the zodiac of black and purple. Fuck it, and toss it up to 35 cent malts at the Blue Moon Lounge. Bring down the moon, black and burple. Cloak my loins and wipe my eyes full of leather and salty wet dreams. Cover my cup, my friend with a drip to cut you down to nights behind fake bars. Put the dreams of ancient times in front of me, down the road and sleep of ages that ends in black and purple. -Jeffrey Helms and Leslie Standridge Computer Age- Towering Obelisks...stone and steel. Modern Primitives. Lets go shout at the moon and throw rocks at it. Can you see beyond your age to the time of clean white shirts, ties, and Armani? Clock your ticket and prepare for the primal dance to the rhythm of connecting modems. Electronic whirl, electronic sex, electronic people. New Gods to worship, new gospels to be written. Bill Gates...supreme High Priest. Bow to the central element. Force feed it to us. Gloves on keyboards are the prayers and hymns of our modern day monks. Delphic Oracale...Know Thyself. Turn on a television, computer or microwave oven...sure no problem. Turn on a man or a woman...where is the instruction booklet? Do you play a radio or a song? Fill your mind with false images of supermodels and plastic babies with plugs. Mama...Dada...Oh Shit! The Record Broke.... Leslie Standridge and Jeffrey Helms Fragrant Honeysuckle, Towering Pines-Fragrant honeysuckle, towering pines, Grand Canyon's depth, and ocean's breadth I fall eternal night. As smoke floating on an olive mornings plain where proud spirits view last evening's wars. Ghostly ancestors who would know our moves, and heal all our wounds. no smudging sage, no herbal tea, no medicine salve, or pouch will soothe the blessed extant soul whose wound is poisoned passion. When a best friend loves his friend. Sweet breath of dreams that I enhale; sweet breath yours into mine. As if to inspire your sleeping soul to enter into mine. Like lavender after rain, while other lovers dance the lakeside loon's midnight. Spider spin and catch this dream, a web of fantasy, where souls are knit as one; adorned with jewels of dew. Candy eyes of lollipop brown, draw me deep inside; where potter's treasure hides sweet lips of cherry clay, and truffles dipped and dried. Moon lit hair as eagles flight where silvers lustrous shine descends like holy light. As grizzly bear and rainbow Trout, this hunt could end in death. My soul, or his or both. Woodpecker pounds my sullen head, as coyotes laughter rises on fluted reeds. Fragrant honeysuckle, towering pines. Grand Canyon's depth, ocean's; I fall an eternal night. ...Steven Webb -Dorm Room- Love's lost, or mabey it was never had. Twinkles in deep brown eyes mean nothing. The sweat of passion dissipates and leaves the sour stench of lies. A camouflage coat, red shirt, dark jeans, and a necklace with a smiley face on it...this is the wardrobe of uncertainty and unintentional deceit. Slack ass beauty, shining through the decaying shell of smooth flesh. How can one not feel love for the sheer decadence of our time...yet hate the reality of it? There is no such thing as truth, lies and misinformation dwell under the backwards baseball cap. We are made of shit and fungus held together by fragile shells. The event horizon is inevitable. Passions swoon, stench of sex smells wonderful...We die at the heat of passion. This cocaine and ecstacy wonderland is a place even Alice would fear to tread. From un-airconditioned living comes forth the mingled sweat of unknowingness. I love you. I hate you. What a graceful and beautiful neck you have...may I rip it open? Genetically merge into one at the peak of sexual confusion. Say goodbye and never feel...again. Jeffrey Helms-1999 -You_ Candles light the room. Sarah McLachlan sets the mood. The encounter with the otherworldly is eminent. You are here...but you are not. You ghost traces shadows in the deepest chambers of my heart. My heart...I miss it, wherever it is. I gave you permission to rip it out and take it with you. Your absence leaves me cold and frightened. Take my pain away. The river of my depression is too deep and I am drowning. The splitting of my soul has happened. No magic powerful enough to repair it. Tears stream into pools of suffering. I loved you, I lost you, and I never had you. Obsession is merely a word. The incense of your cigarette...I can still smell it. You went away. I tried to forget your wondrous visage, but I cannot. To feel your warmth and pressure against me once more...oh what I would not give. The corpse of you memory is my only company now, lying cold and invisible in my bed. Fuck you. You missed your chance to be happy forever. May rainbow's turn to shades of gray and black. May green grass and blue skies sour with the radioactive fumes of stupidity and stubborness. Evils of the night possess me. I summon my demon spirit to make me forget you. Goodbye my love, resent me not for I am human. I have killed you in my mind and you no longer exist. Farewell phantom, for my love...is dead. Jeffrey Helms 1999 -Visions- Masked faces and painted nails, a surrealistic vision of purity. Spank my ass and call me Shirley, said the sadistic lover. Shave my body to a perfect glean, reflection of moonlight on my skin...like a mirror. Pay the plastic surgeon to remove the scars...blindfold him for creativity. The knife cuts and the fire burns. Smell of flesh sweetly crisping. Ummmmm, pork rinds. Miss Piggy has a frog in her throat!!! Eyes buldge at the thought of mass alcohol consumption. Yeah.... Leslie Standridge & Jeffrey Helms 1999 -Need I say More?- Suicidal Tendencies. The thoughts of proposed mishaps leading to action. All needs forfeited for tight sex and cherry tasted love. Purity.... Leslie Standridge 1998 -The Dangers of Drinking- The tap flows down at the bar. Fuckin' A, throwing up again. Sickness creeps upon me with the ecstasy of clouded minds and even more clouded thoughts. Then the wheres come like new questions. I'll wake up ditched and throbbing, or in a stranger's bed with that stranger. Don't drink too fast, Danger! Danger! Well, at least it was a woman this time. More questions, to's and fro's. Why'd I wake up in panty hose? Nothing also but a red clown nose. My ass feels like it was bulldozed. Pain, pain, it goes away, like cyanide gas. I hate shitting someone elses cum. This will never happen again my friend. Ryan Anderson Bell 1998 -The Woe's of Hoe's- The John looks at my reciever, as I am in the bathroom, washing my beaver. For him, for his money, I give...give my honey...and my bunny. So it's 30 dollars hoe? John replies with his doe. Did I love someone before? What am I doing this for? Let me go and let me leave. I'm sure that I didn't want to be a whore. Nor did my mother, nor did my father. But I am a whore-a-holic, wastebin, cum-dumpster, dick-holster, prostitute, fucking smackhead...and nothing more. Ryan Anderson Bell 1998 -Religion- In these decadent times, who do we have to look up to? God does not exist. Kindness and compassion no longer exist. Well, the price of knowledge and education is the abandonment of love and faith. Man is not much without these. Sure, we can survive without morals and emotion, but we cease to be human. The tossing aside of the organic, and the assimilation of the synthetic, is inevitable. Science rushes to catch up with "God", science rushes to explain what once was in the realm of the unknown and mysterious. Roses are red, Violets are blue. These are simple facts. Can we look beyond that? No! Humanity is a time bomb, giving itself over to the joy of a surrealistic death. The omnipresent forces of technology defeat us. Instincts are repressed and passed off as psychological disorders. So, where can we turn to for support and salvation? Where? Jeffrey Helms 1999 -Insignificance- Car Breakdowns. The sickness of God's transcendental humor. Strike them dead. Let the streets flow with the blood of the non-believers. The Gods do have reasons for causing misery, although I know not what they are. All of us sweltering ape-pigs, drunk on our overindulgences of excessive life on tap. It takes disruptances of our daily meandering to make us see...see punishments of divine origin. Most inconvenient they are, these disruptances. They are sweet lullabies of cruelty. The flame that lights a cigarette has more of a purpose on this earth than we do. Think about that.... Jeffrey Helms -No Light At The End- Dark...Midnight...the Witching Hour. Still awake with insomnia in full blaze. Take things day by day? That is a nice phrase to live by...yet an impossible sleeping pill to choke down. Finances, work, car, school, apartments, relationships...the list goes on and on. What can I do? I am trapped in this coffin of modern ideals with the insects of injustice and troubled minds. Oh! It's four in the morning. No chance of a good nights sleep now. No surrender at all. Sleep, how I love those little chunks of death. No rest for the weary. Well, I suppose we sleep enough when we die, right? The credit card bills pile up next to the pile of failed college exams, which are all in turn resting upon caffeine pills and misery. Why do we try? Why not simply give in to our restrain induced madness? Seek psychotherapy? Oh, there's a novel approach. Insanity, misdiagnosed as stress. Nuclear annihilation. Two terms that I would not mind experiencing. The brightness of a day can easily wither to shades of gray and black...not that the previous is a bad thing. Eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow ye shall die. An excellent, irresponsible moral code...but can we afford the dinner check? Jeffrey Helms (Published in the 2001 Edition of the ECLECTIC~State University of West Georgia Literary and Art Magazine) -Bloody Kisses- Make me hard, make me soft, make me putty in your hands. Bring forth the wisdom of ages and release my primitive and savage emotions. Flood my senses with life. Floor set for a party of five. Interesting and numbing, powerful and beautiful, primitive yet advanced. The needs of the one, outweigh the needs of the many. Sparkling liquid, made in your veins, increase by the power and the sensuality of the situation. All love and no regrets. Deep voices and sweet voices harmonize together as the power of one, magnified by the god of night magic and dreams. Sweat mingles together the same as water, as pure as nater herself. The gleaming of silver under full moonlight. Religious experiences are of the utmost spiritual awakenings. The snakes and apples mingle together to form perfection. Combining mentally in love and trust. Friendship is a most hallowed thing made stronger by the pact of bloody kisses. Flesh, soul, heart, and being...synchronized and in unity of want and pleasure. God bless the potions. Skipping visions of past, present, and the gloriously unkown, and exciting future. Let the wine flow like water to paint every supple curve. Lashes and musicle poetry create vibrations of magnificence as the claws tear down my back. Tonight is in honor of Eros. Roll in sequence to the wonders of pure, innocent, loving, and compassionate hunger. Hunger for the pleasures brought on by numerous bloody kisses. Jeffrey Helms (Written for the Chateau Crew!) If you would like to send me an e-mail, click on the statue!