Dylan’s voice rang out like thunder as he’d read his poetry, he wasn’t actually shouting, it just was deep and booming naturally
Like it was made for exactly that very thing
It was so strange and yet somehow, incredibly soothing, and to this day I love hearing his old recordings they’re timeless treasures to me
By: J.N.R Dutton
Tonight I’m jamming to music, some classics, and some fresh sounds I’d never heard, soaking up the melodies, taking in every heartfelt word
From songs about new fatherhood, and songs about new Love, songs about the roughest heartbreaks and having the strength to overcome and so many others that I’d Love to tell you of …
As the singers tell their stories, one verse at a time, I’m sitting here letting my heart feel and find inspiration for another set of rhymes
By: J.N.R Dutton
I was reading through old poems this morning
Just thinking, reflecting,
it’s good to do that occasionally
you never know in doing so
the inspiration such reflection
By: J.N.R Dutton
Stevie was born, 1974,
in a cottage on Copperhead road
In late December before their final snow
that year
His daddy still remembers it so clear
The sparkle in his eye &
the sweet baby smile on his face
and a father’s heart swelling with pride
and oh how Stevie’s mama cried such happy tears
as she held him in a warm embrace
By: J.N.R Dutton
Dear Travis,
Everything I read from you,
it sets my heart to racing
You spill your soul on to the pages
everything that you’re feeling
or facing, know this brother,
to all your words, I’m deeply relating
I know that I can always find
some of the best inspiration
When I read what comes from your pen
By: J.N.R Dutton
Hello everyone who still follows this blog, I realize it’s been a bit since I’ve shared new poetry here, but I will soon again. I have quite a few ideas rolling round in my mind, just need to flesh them out.
Joshua-He’s a poet from the heart of Texas
he writes as if he’s just speaking plainly
he doesn’t try to impress anybody
with anything fancy
he just lets what’s on his heart flow free
he believes that’s the best way to be
By: J.N.R Dutton
The poet sits to write another line
Endless thoughts flood his mind
he just lets them waltz right in
it’s not a question then of inspiration
he’s got plenty of that
He just wonders where exactly to begin
By: J.N.R Dutton
I hadn’t been to your pages in a while,
but I love your skill
& talent still
When I read what you had written,
I couldn’t help but smile
Some of what you write is serious,
others I know is just for laughs
but whatever I read from you,
I know it never will be trash
By: J.N.R Dutton
A frail, pale poet, on a stage, with a spotlight
shining bright in his eyes, he rhymes of pain,
fellow orphans, fallen friends,
and savage frigid New York nights
where he slept on friends’ couches
or out in their halls
he rhymes of times in his life
that it’s a wonder he survived to tell
about at all
By: J.N.R Dutton
The Poetry Of J.N.R Dutton 