jHead
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bigjoehead.bsky.social
jHead
@bigjoehead.bsky.social
9 followers 10 following 18 posts
I am here for art: photography, writing, painting, and drawing are my current interests.
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bigjoehead.bsky.social
Happy Friday! It's a new Lana Del Rey single release day! This one is called "Henry, come on."
lanadelrey.lnk.to/henrycomeon
Lana Del Rey - Henry, come on
listen / download
lanadelrey.lnk.to
April 11, 2025 at 9:47 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
another day, another poem...

#writingcommunity #poetry #poet
We Stayed Up All Night - A poem by jHead We stayed up all night, to watch the sun rise. When it cautiously appeared, in the evolving morning sky, streaks and smears, shades of reds and yellows, reflected in your loving eyes. The chill of darkness, faded, with the morning light, which flushed the mysteries, from the shade, kept them out of sight. We sat hand in hand, gripped so tight, two souls entwined, as we sat in awe, of nature’s spectacular delight.
March 19, 2025 at 9:56 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
Beautiful things are all around us, we just have to allow ourselves to see them...

#poem #poet #poetry #writingcommunity
The End of the Beautiful Things That feeling of dew soaked grass on bare feet. Summer’s glow warm skin the comforting heat. Wild flowers swaying their scent so deliciously sweet. Crisp clear mountain water refreshing can’t be beat. Explosive rise of the morning sun anything but discreet. Breath in the air untarnished deep. Subconsciously aware of the night creatures while they sleep. Conversations between birds much more than just a tweet. Bluest of blue skies calming under which we meet. My search for the end of the beautiful things will be forever incomplete.
March 8, 2025 at 10:38 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
Another poem...this one is called "It's Time to Wake Up."

#poem #poet #poetry #writingcommunity #BlueskyPoetry
A poem It’s Time to Wake Up The morning arrives, as certain as a newborn cries, daylight enthusiastically welcomed, as I peel open my curious eyes, inhale deeply, and confidently rise, to face the things that I recognize, as well as those that come as a surprise, the grand prize, more time to be enjoy being alive, but today is different, I will not just survive, I will thrive.
March 4, 2025 at 10:21 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
I woke up at 4:30 am with the desire to "finish" this poem. Now it's time to move on to happy thoughts.

#poetryCommunity #poetry #poem #BlueSkyPoetry #AmWriting #ResistancePoetry
I Found the Light I found the light, it was no longer hiding, nor shining. It had become a stranger, one who seemed to be in danger. Without warning, and with fearless anger, the Monsters had taken over, and darkness always remained, well past morning. I wasn’t yearning for its brightness, nor seeking assistance, just verifying its existence, as the distance, was not far, unlike that of a star, or the sun. The golden one, sat silent, burnt out , afraid, of the future, that had been laid, out for us. Without trust bought and paid for by lust, the glow waned, turned to lifeless dust, thrust back into the cold, where the truth can’t be told, because the narrative, under complete control, has been bought and sold.
March 3, 2025 at 10:54 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
sharing my latest piece...

#poem #poetry #poet #writer #blueskypoem
Dreams Enveloped by the comfort of the darkness her curious mind wandered aimlessly deep into the August night. Sultry, breezy fingers caressed her golden hair and the scent of mischievous whispers glided by anonymously alongside confetti-like, silky rose petals thousands of them whirled and twirled crimson swirls rising, falling a beautiful parade of reds unfolding through the blackness rich with mystery. The cobblestone street glistened beneath the faint yellow glow pouring from the towering lampposts. The decaying buildings listened for secrets but she had none to tell no myths to dispel. As sure as your next breath dawn’s cusp will transform into the sweet, vivacious morning awake or sleeping her dreams will never stop spawning.
February 19, 2025 at 11:28 PM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
Sunday morning... coffee & words

#WritingCommunity #poetry #AmWriting #BlueSkyPoetry #poet #writing
The King of Confusion The words are transparent, hiding because they don’t want to be found. The words are unrecognizable, transporters of sound, defining lines thick and thin, shapes both flat and round, often they are meaningless, other times profound. They can astound, surround, move fluidly in space, off the walls they rebound, countless numbers of them abound, planted like seeds of hope in a fertile ground, piles of old decaying letters shaped into a mound, clumps of them lumped together confound, all logic unwound, nothing familiar to which to be bound. Beneath the unbearable weight, slowly drowned, pummeled by words, the King of Confusion, he was crowned. ~ jHead | February 2025 ~
February 16, 2025 at 11:09 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
Playing around with words on a Sunday morning...

#poetry #poem #BlueSkyPoetry #poetryCommunity
I woke, my face nestled in a cloud-like pillow, memories of your love, swirled around my head, no escape, my body comforted by the weight of a lush quilt, a wedding gift, hand-crafted by your grandmother, who had long since passed. The light and airy scent of early morning summer, alongside the delicate song, from nearby Cedar Waxwings and Bobolinks, rushed through the open window on the backs of unknowing sunbeams. New beginnings, a fresh start, my heartstrings stretched tight, as the beautiful morning light, spilled in over the lonely room, reminding me, that you were taken away too soon.
February 9, 2025 at 11:20 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
My most recent poem...

#writing #poetry #blueskypoets #poems #writingcommunity
The sun frantically called out to the moon, but the tired ancient orb was sound asleep, and the light was bright, too bright to keep my eyes open, and the old man was loudly snoring, while Vantablack black winged birds, above my head were soaring. Those soft yet painful cries, dripped down from the sky. The moon glow submerged in a warm bath, of the cool dewy morning, and without warning, the sun vanished, and the wind ceased to exist, dead calm, quiet. “Help!” The sun cried out from the void. I couldn’t avoid, feeling the pain in her voice. She didn’t have a choice. They were trying to forsake her, earthquake her out of existence, with unwavering persistence, while the moon remained cold and silent in the distance. The sun was shamefully forbidden, which was the result of an irrational decision, so she nervously peered out into the darkness while hidden. Hoping to prevent any type of avoidable collision, the moon stayed awake, albeit with blurred vision, tired and lethargic, a costly mistake, nearly tragic, drained of energy, lost that lunar magic, silenced and weakened by heartbreak.
February 5, 2025 at 10:25 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
I’ve been painting a lot lately. I figured that I would share this piece in its current state because there’s a good chance that I will ruin it over time and I will start over (again).

This work in progress is 24x30”, acrylic on canvas.

#painting #abstractpainting #artist #painter
A 24x30 inch acrylic on canvas painting of a large swirl of colors
January 24, 2025 at 10:20 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
Another work in progress… this one is 30x30”, acrylic on canvas.

#painting #art #abstractart #abstractpainting
A colorful painting consisting of lots of similar brush strokes.
January 19, 2025 at 10:53 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
"Boundless"

#SkyPoets #poetryCommunity #poetry #SkyWriter #amwriting #writingcommunity
"Boundless" She is happiest when surrounded by spruce and pine, seemingly endless mountain peaks, gurgling rivers and streams, moose, lynx, and snowshoe hare tracks in the winter. In spring and summer, lily of the valley, sundews, wild strawberries, fireweed and pink Calypso orchid dotted marshes, adorn the boreal forest floor. Her love for nature is boundless.
November 26, 2024 at 10:53 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
I wrote this one in June of 2024. It's called "Do You Think About Me?"

#poetry #poem #writing #creativewriting #writer
Do You Think About Me? By jHead Part 1 The clouds are thick, smeared, silvery gobs of feathery white. They drift below cerulean and cornflower blues. Comets shoot out of your eyelids, black holes spinning behind them, lost, misguided, alone. The clouds up there don’t care what you think. The clouds up there don’t care if you are alive. They will exist as clouds until they don’t, regardless of you. You drove out of town, in your canary yellow Volkswagen, sputtering along, through all of those summery sounds, head down, focused, past endless beaches, the tired road teaches unfairness, all those things you miss, like staying between the lines, paying attention to signs, limiting your awareness. Looking for bliss? Aren’t we all, it doesn’t exist. Unless... you resist. But, you left, and never looked back, on that day by the beach, you turned away, your hair blown by the August breeze, shoeless footprints quickly became invisible, until you got small, smaller, and finally, you were gone. I wasn’t wrong, to see you when you are not there, standing by West Cliff Park, or on the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, sunlight in your hair, shades of auburn, copper, and ginger brown flailing around, unpainted lips and fingertips, seen all over town. Do you think about me? Sitting there on your couch, or in your car, on a bus, a train, wherever you are, do you think about me?
November 25, 2024 at 1:09 PM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
Hello fellow Bluesky'ers. Here's a poem written by me in February of 2024. It's called "Did You Stop to Look at the Dying Stars, My Dear?"

#poetry #poem #writer
Did You Stop to Look at the Dying Stars, My Dear? Did you stop to look at the dying stars, my dear? Those tiny flickering dots in the sky existed in the past, yet they’re visible here, now, as are we. I can taste their mystery. Did you inhale fully, consuming their light, sending it coursing through your body like graffiti covered trains, worming through tunnels, fast and predictable. Did you pause to take a drink of life, swirl it around your filthy mouth, gargle and swallow, or did you reject it, spit it out? Do you understand the journey, my dear, and why you are here? Do you care? Do you embrace your fears, the thoughts that make you feel uncomfortable yet alive, wrap your arms around them like you’re their mother, or do you prefer to hide? Pay close attention, my dear, to every breath. Live every moment, every single second, to the fullest.
November 24, 2024 at 12:04 PM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
A short #poem I wrote in September...

#poetry #writing #art
Memories of You By jHead Through the tent screen I watched the campfire light flicker. Inaudible voices carried on as the darkness settled comfortably into the forest. Grays smeared across the sky, while the memories of you drifted by, drowned beneath the stars, disappeared into the loamy soil, and leached into the shallow lilypad covered pond, as I carelessly let them go, not knowing that they could never return.
November 23, 2024 at 11:07 AM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
A work in progress…this painting is 30x40”, acrylic on canvas, and the working title is The Garden Party.
A colorful abstract painting
November 22, 2024 at 12:19 PM
bigjoehead.bsky.social
My first post here on Bluesky... a poem I wrote in September of 2024.
a poem titled Autumn By The River
November 22, 2024 at 10:43 AM