Take Off Your Cool.
Posted in movement with tags authentic, be real, dancer, flow, fresh, jen juice, movement, poledancer, surreal movement on June 7, 2020 by JenJuiceLookin’ Out for #1
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags dance, flow, movement, Poetry, surreal erotica on June 1, 2020 by JenJuiceExpress Yourself.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags art, create, express yourself, expression, feel, fluidalchemy, jenjuice, Love, nwa on May 31, 2020 by JenJuiceFire.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags dance, I am legend, jenjuice, movement, Poetry, poetry motion, white zombie on May 31, 2020 by JenJuiceRaised by a Sociopath – Wanna Date?
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags date, Love, Poetry, pole dancer, strength, thrive on May 18, 2020 by JenJuice
This is the sign of shame I carry with me most days and defer to a just an upbringing..However, to survive a parent who tries to murder you is not just survival – that’s a warrior. Make no mistake about it – we are the sum of our choices and I chose to rise like the fire I am. Don’t fuck with the fire.
Raised by a Sociopath.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags jenjuice, Love, poet on May 17, 2020 by JenJuice
Jump Ship.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags mom, Poetry, vessels on April 26, 2020 by JenJuiceThey tell us what to watch, see, hear, be – the only way I feel that I can have freedom of speech is with my movement – and, even with that how far can I push the envelope not even the boundaries – bodies of perfection and a sentimental look at the way things could be. A variety of lessons and some good ass nothing less than perfection.
I see it was a quasi-moment of rise – the place we find our guides. Nothing more to distract the whoa(s)– just a cradle-robber, a burial and a martyr I sometimes call …mom. And, her (fake) cries.
The bold and the beautiful creases at the point of lost interaction in the form of fuck you, mom. I love you, but fuck you, mom.
The idea of a person being so not able to stand up and be accountable for what – sins? Your God would call them, but what about my God – are they different?
Do you hear the gods of the ego speak so loud you even forgot what the word – mom meant – cuz, you never were – you, as we all, are just a vessel and, I came through yours – so thanks, for your vessel.
That’s all you ever were (and, so it is).
The vessel of a 300-plus pound woman barricading herself in her own skin and fear – hold you closer cuz I know you are hurt – you probably do – I mean you seem to feel something cuz you are alive – though…I doubt that you really are…or for not much longer with your comfort. It is either you or him or both – though, my feeling is your vessels aren’t lasting and even still am I even bothered?
What is to attach to a vessel when I can jump ship?
Deaths and Rebirths.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Death, human, jeff grosso, Life, love letters, Poetry on March 31, 2020 by JenJuiceDeath, she whispered to me again….I remember saying I feel you close today. My body responded before it even happened.
I weeped.
I wasn’t quite sure why I did – until I got the news.
