Nothing to be done

I'm Jake.
I'm 21.
Professional Ballet Dancer.
College Student.
Actor, Poet, Writer, Musician, Thinker, Lover.
Let's be friends.
My stuffs

Posts tagged poetry


It’s like my legs are worn out
But I’m too lazy to stretch
My eyes are tired
But I can’t seem to rest
My bed is too lonely
But I made it that way
And maybe someday
I’ll let someone stay
Lighter flck
I should really stop smoking

Nothing to be done: Go Live.

Reblogged from jakedoesdance


This is a call, to go live.
To not sit and ask God what gives.
To find a dream and hunt it down.
To skin it bare and wear it as a crown.
Go live.
Live like the moment your lips touched hers.
Like the time time you laid in the grass and brushed off the burrs.
Live like your father, who never had a…

kiss my ass

I like the way a whiskey and coke tastes when the ice has melted
I like the way my fingers smell after playing guitar for a while
I like the way my old baseball glove fit
I like stale smoke on peacoats
Warm exhales on cold mornings
Neck kisses
The subtle wink

And I realize I’m particular
And some people find that particularly annoying
Or odd
Or pretentious

But I’m tired of being shackled by social norms telling me that the size of my car’s engine and my penis somehow correlate

That if I’m not a suit and tie, nine to five man, I’m unmotivated
That I should care about anyone with the last name Kardashian
That kissing ass is a way to get by

Kiss my ass
Kiss my ass because I like to live paycheck by paycheck
Kiss my ass because settling down and popping out twins is something I don’t want for a while

And that’s okay

That’s what makes us all beautiful

So even if you don’t like it when your whiskey and coke’s ice has melted
Drink with me


Great with words
But horrible with actions
Proficient at explosions
But lacking in reactions

Taking time to ignore the issues
And tread lightly on broken lightbulbs

I crushed the idea of you
With my size 10 shoes
And sunk a few more inches into my guilt

Apologies don’t justify actions

Cyclical patterns traced deep in my heart
I know this feeling
I hate this feeling

I know you shake sometimes
And that’s okay

I want to be water when you’re hungover
Blankets when you’re cold
And stable
I want to be stable

You and you.
That’s all this became.
Sometimes the room feels warmer with you.
But You always felt so cold.
Goosebumps remind me of how You used to make me twitch.
And it’s funny how you looked at me for a brief moment.
Like You didn’t exist.
I was the only one in the room.
That’s how it feels.
Like I’m the only one in the room.
Staying up for You.

"I walked up the door,
shut the stairs,
said my shoes,
took off my prayers,
turned off my bed,
got into the light,
all because
you kissed me goodnight."

    Natalie Dorsch

Old Man with the Mustache

Old Man with the Mustache
Tell me your stories

Were you a slick cat in the ‘50’s
Hair slicked back
Dressed to impress

Tell me about your old truck
Tell me about the beautiful women that sat next to you
In the passenger seat
Hands in their laps
Waiting to be kissed

Old man with the Mustache
Show me your left hand
I wanna see about your ring finger

Were you once a Newlywed

Did you take your lady to the movies

Did you always remember the important dates

Old Man with the Mustache
Did you fight for my freedom
Have you walked shoulder to shoulder with brothers
Sent letters to sisters
Swapped stories with fathers
Or held doors open for mothers

Are you a family man

Did you play catch with your sons
And did you teach them how to treat a lady

Did you have a daughter with long brown hair
Constantly followed by dough-eyed boys

Old Man with the Mustache
I want you to know that you look happy
And that you remind me of my grandfather.

You see, he was an amazing man
Loving father
Caring husband
And a true gentleman

My Pops used to drive to work every day at five o’clock
He knew everyone’s name at the golf course
And if you are half the man he was, I know that you are immaculate

I know that you light up the room with your eyes
I know your greetings seem personal every time

So Old Man with the Mustache
Thank you
Thank you for waving at me at this red light
Because I was too stuck with my nonsense
To just relax and smile
Like you


I can still smell you in my sheets
And taste you on my lips
And every day I still feel the warmth on my neck
Right where you used to kiss

It seems you struck me with a virus
That is paralyzing my brain
Because my memories are filled
With flashes of your face

The mole beneath your lip
The shadow beneath your eyes
The way your nose would scrunch up

At night, the virus grows restless
And invades my dreams
How I wish I could pause them-
Just to stare at you all night
Making sure I caught every detail

The shape of your ears
The way your hipbones show
The slight pigeon-toed way you walk

If I were a sculptor, I’d sculpt the way you used to look at me
Like I just told you we were leaving for Paris
And I bought the Eiffel Tower
And all the champagne
And all the cigarettes
And the comfiest beds
They’re all ours

And if I were a painter, I’d paint the way my heart felt when you left
Like the coffee is burned
But you drink it anyway
Or the birds stopped singing and just sat on their telephone wires

False Start

I just wanted to let you know that you had me feeling like a middle school wallflower.
Every part of me screaming “don’t leave” except my mouth.

I guess I should have tried harder.
Should have wrote you love letters like,
"Roses are red, violets are blue, take my hand, I’m telling the truth"

Because I’ve already been thinking.
There’s a spot in my bed with your name on it.
And I promise to take out the garbage
If you promise to wipe down the counters

You see-
I caught you doing pirouettes in my arteries
Making sure my heart became clogged with your beauty

You had me feeling like a high school kid who just got his braces off
And is showing the whole world what “happy” looks like
You had me feeling like a feather in a hurricane
Spinning and hurling through your laughter

So I thought if we stayed in bed
Time could freeze for a bit and we could play chicken with our feelings
But instead,
We stared at the ceiling and wondered what could have been.

October ‘09

I’m sorry
From the ex-girlfriends to the bad kisses
From the close calls and the near misses
I’m sorry

Cause while I was busy eating spoonfuls of charcoal to remind myself of the fire we once had
You were stocking the furnace for a new recipe

We both thought we were two jigsaw puzzles meant for each other
But we missed the fact that one corner didn’t match
So we just kept jamming ourselves together, hoping eventually we’d fit
But all we did was break each other more

So I’m sorry
Their aren’t enough words to fit the tears spilled between us
Their isn’t a reason we didn’t work, we just didn’t
A mutual love we just couldn’t figure out

That’s what we said

If I’ve been a paperweight in your mind
You’ve been an elephant in my stomach
So I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for pulling your knobs and pushing your buttons until they broke
For stuffing my ears with my ego, instead of just listening

I should have listened more
I should have cared when you said you were hurting
I should have noticed how many ships I sank with my lose lips
And how many treasures I threw away with my lose hips

I pulled at your heartstrings too hard that they snapped
And I tried to fix it, but ended up leaving bigger scars

We took a magnifying glass to the sun
Trying to shine some light on the darkness we had created
But we burned holes in our love
Letting the rest of the world in

So I’m sorry
If I had to the chance to go back I’d change everything and nothing
But I wish goodbye had been goodbye
And I wish you had said goodbye

Because when the storm settled
And the wind died down
It was clear as day that we were done
And once I realized that, I started seeing flowers everywhere

Romantic Comedy

We all thought we’d end up soaking wet in the middle of a rainstorm
Clutching tightly to someone
Speaking eternal words to one another
But we ended up soaking wet, waiting for the rain to stop

Cause the thunder was louder than our words
And the lightning was brighter than our smiles

So we watched the honey fall from the beehives
Forgetting how it got there
And instead
We worshiped out bank accounts

Our shoes got stuck in wet concrete
Because we jumped the gun on all of this
Stuffing our socks with coals from the fire
To keep our feet warm

And when the realities of the world came crashing down
The shallow trenches we dug overflowed with lies
Because talking straight became a thing we talked about
And walking away turned in to the only way

So when the rain comes
Instead of waiting for someone to keep you warm
Open your mouth
Stick out tongue
And let the rain in

Here’s the piece that my dear friend Trevor choreographed.
He asked me to write the music and record an original poem.
This recording quality is bonerville.

Update of sorts.

Some big-ish things have been happening in my life recently.
At the end of the season for TEXAS, their is a variety show called TEXAS Originals. It’s essentially a talent show put on by the cast and crew of TEXAS.
They made us audition a couple of days ago, and I got some pretty awesome news.
One of my fellow dancers, Trevor asked me to write some music and a poem for a dance piece that he’s been working on. So I recorded 3 different songs, wrote and recorded a poem, and BOOM! His piece made it in.
I’m also in two other choreography pieces that also made it in.
AND a poem that I’ve been constantly working on since the summer of my senior year made it as well.
Also, I’m understudy for one of the leads in the show, and I’m going in for the Saturday and Sunday performances.
Saturdays usually have anywhere from 1,000-1,500 people in the house.

Things are looking up, ladies and gents.

I sit

I sit.
I sit and think.
I sit and think about my legs.
How every muscle pulls and pushes and pulls and pushes towards my future.
Calculated footsteps to an unknown destination.
Left, right, left, right until they tear and fall apart.
But for now I sit.
I sit and think.
I sit and think about my hands.
And how many other hands I’ve touched.
How many romantic encounters started with only a subtle touch of hands.
How many leathery, wind worn fathers I’ve shaken hands with.
Remembering to keep a firm grip as to create the illusion of manliness before taking their daughter to the school dance.
But for now I sit.
I sit and think.
I sit and think about my dreams.
The fantastic worlds I’ve created.
Filled with beautiful women I’ll never meet, and impossible landscapes I’ll never see.
And how I like the dream me better than the real me.
And how sometimes I think that if I didn’t think so much, the facade of a smile would crumble away.
But for now I sit.
I sit and think.
I sit and think about my future.
And what the future me will be like.
Or what he’ll smell like.
Or look like.
Or what he’ll sit and think about.
And how I hope the future me is happy.
And how I hope the future me is in love
With a beautiful women that kisses his cheek every time she sees him.
And how I hope his future children will love him.
But for now I’ll sit.
On this rickety plastic chair.
I’ll sit.
I’ll sit and think.