The goal is the job that gets you the most pussy.
But the reward is the sustained orgasm.
The simple answer to a complicated question.
The Untitled. Truth. Sustained.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags gloryhole, money, Poetry, sex, Truth, usa on July 27, 2017 by JenJuiceReal shit.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags rockford files, simple, sundays on July 23, 2017 by JenJuice
The Rockford Files and Columbo. A perfect day.
Water(ed).
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags baroque, floetry, movement, Poetry, sex, Solid, swallow, You Me on July 18, 2017 by JenJuiceGlass breaks. Rocks splatter. The one burning matter.
My life. Like Water.
Fuck it down. fuck it up
Make her holler.
Show her what you have – to offer.
The destination is me.
Up to date.
And satisfied 10 times over.
Where does the time go? I shout at my watch.
And, I remembered I don’t own one.
If I had a jewel of existence to model you after.
You would be there when I need you.
Better when I want you.
And solid many times over.
Simple letters of the stained martyr.
I reveal. My voice..…my fingertips.
The shards.
I swallow.
Pith enough.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags forgiveness rubble love, pith, Poetry on July 7, 2017 by JenJuiceThe pith of the alchemy. Isn’t without you or me.
A filthy deceptive of the global man.
Three dimensions in and going further.
She mounted up.
And…..
And melted through.
Kinda lot a lot of little and and enough.
Mounted up riff and the tainted on clock.
Forgiving the process as I forgive myself.
Identifier is just a word.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags authentic, justme, Love, Poetry, Truth, writing on June 21, 2017 by JenJuiceHe kept yelling at me asking if I know this poet’s name or that poet’s name.
No sir.
I don’t know names.
I just know I write poetry.
Dear Chris…Cornell. My love. My Gratitude.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags chris cornell, Love, Poetry, Soundgarden, tribute on May 21, 2017 by JenJuiceGrief is loneliness at its primal level.
To think about my experience with Chris is pouring through my veins like lava. I keep seeing him. Hearing his voice and the tears coming out of my eyes feels like that Jesus Christ Pose I can’t deny.
Him. He was profound. His presence was massive. One of the calmest intensities I’ve experienced. It was the moment I became awake…meeting him.
I was a high school runaway..I left my house at 16 under a shitty living situation…I was working at a funeral home at the time..it’s relevant. Soon After…
I went to a club one night as I did…At #s I go to the ladies room and come out ratting out Kim Thayil for pissing in the girl’s room while I waited. He liked that, went and got Matt Cameron and they piled in my 81’ Ford Granada matted with my Soundgarden sticker on back. We all get in. the cassette playing was Jane’s Addiction Triple X. And…we sparked up a big joint and got super baked discussing philosophies.
In turn..we became fast friends…Went on tour with them a stretch from Texas to Louisiana….it was fun. It was spiritual. It was the most honor and beautiful sensation to be graced with the person that has touched my soul so many times, so deep and so in my being…and, to be able to actually tell him of my gratitude. Much Love to that dear soul. May he be at peace.
You are my Sun.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags chris cornell, feminine genius, intuitive, Love, Mourning, Poetry, Truth on May 21, 2017 by JenJuiceThe other me is on recess.
You, me and that tacky little dress you called…
Well, a mess.
Wrecking my mind riots in your circumference
Of you, me and the lost whodunit.
But, it was…
The wife and the hello matrimony amalgam.
The departure of the underlying truth.
Is simple geometry. Just fucking listen.
Connections.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags chris cornell, like suicide, Love, Poetry on May 21, 2017 by JenJuiceWhen everything about suicide makes sense…..
I kind of love you.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags confusion, heart, him, Love, Poetry, soul on May 12, 2017 by JenJuiceThe smell of weed penetrates the streets like a breath of fresh desire
How I became so alive – the moment I saw your eyes.
A slow weight of water drips down my jaw…my teardrops…only
Come for you.
And you…my love…is all I see.
And I can’t even see me.
And how does the other always know when I need him
When I want to just walk away…
He cradles me in his voice of lullabies of memories
Oh, how are you still in my life when you are just
A story line away from reality….
Is connectedness a myth…or do we just talk
Ourselves out of what we feel.
Build you. With him. With you. With all of….
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags beauty, dark, light love, Poetry, Truth, widow on May 9, 2017 by JenJuice
My body looked sad..so I had to please her.
Not looking in the mirror has consequences.
My tits…my tits are pouring your name. Fondling my memories of you…
Between me and my—self.
You, my – in between all of this…..stuff….and you aren’t here physically, but…
You are so in my body, my mind, my soul….you are in me. Always.
Penetrate through me…from the realms so profound away…you, my love…are somehow always with me…in this finite equation…of us is never in between you and me. Love.
Jen Juice 