Nothing worse than falling for the same smoke and mirrors that continuously inhabit your space….the endurance of the worst beckons my calling.
What to have and what not to hold. I find it a daunting rhetoric of solution.
Fucking want to murder my emotions with a jackknife and feed
It to the spirits that gag me with them.
Archive for Death
Battle wounds….
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Death, enigma, I miss him, introspection, my fault, Poetry on November 23, 2015 by JenJuiceWhat’s it Like…..to Die.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Death, Hurt, I miss him, Love, Lovers, no questions, pain, Poetry, soulmates, Truth, wretched on September 22, 2015 by JenJuice
So, what is grief like? What is that profound state of not understanding..
What’s it like to be fully aware and fully present in love with the one soulmate that
Took my breath and breathed it back into me…
And what is it like when he walks in front of a car that hits and murders him
And leaves him solemnly alone on the side of the road to die….what’s it like
You ask.
What’s it like to find life again after finding the truest form of love….die.
What’s it like to watch all your other friends and life move on…they go on having babies, getting married, being happy and having the run of the mill..this is what it’s supposed to be like life.
What’s it like to be not in this much profound pain.
What’s it like to feel again?
What’s it like to love again?
What’s it like to love and die at the same time.
What’s that like. Tell me.
Stemming Birth….to Death.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags darkness, Death, loss, Love, Mourning, Poetry on July 19, 2015 by JenJuiceGiving birth to death
One felony at a time.
Breeching the dotted line
I thought I had to walk along
Like the movie I told myself
When you knew me….
Clenching to each note she whispers
To the birth of song in movement.
I find an ounce of reason to keep
Moving…through this life….
The long and daunting road.
I shallow backwards to see
Even the darker side
Of me….and how
This time is awkwardly the light.
The days…I found you.
I found me.
Love in the moment(s)….
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Death, Love, Mourning, Poetry on July 26, 2014 by JenJuiceMy love, my memories, my me, my you…my everything…
where are you?
I have lost my use for words
and finding my room to stay….
Be-titled….
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Death, Hurt, pain, Poetry on October 10, 2013 by JenJuiceThere she meets progress infamously parading itself
like it did when I was near by…you
surrendered…
to the beliefs I rendered
knowing the path has proven itself
and myself like a tantrum of calm
never had one arm hung
and one throat choked
Another swinging from a pole
I drive into the ground
like Jesus found a myriad of truth
A trickle of a whisper crawls down my thigh
Swimming in thoughts
some place between you and me…
Low lit wreckage….
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Death, Poetry, wreckage on January 27, 2013 by JenJuiceLow lit areas are best when thought less of caressed as a mess
Lost in her wallows of virtue
Turned in meaningless lost and hopeful
Shrouded in a bush left to burn reckless and abandoned
Like the maiden of your perished wreckage
Hated throughout the mind left doctorate
Held two-forced more fruity than the fake
Metal around her neck
When lost in emotional bondage
Found reckless and checked.
Sentenced to torture and rescue
Was a slave in my formative years
Whipped and beaten like the way white
Splatters the walls you lay
Something tells me you ain’t goin’ no where
Impending trees of life lost
Ripped from the masses of my embraces
Coursed and sickened trying to see straight
Only I don’t believe in lines within the straight in arrow…because
Untruths are not where you will find me…this time.
Sometimes I overlap, but not with you (or me)…..
Cursed…and Re-hearsed.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Death, Lost, Poetry on August 19, 2012 by JenJuiceNo one knows how it is to walk in another person’s shoes
They say “oh, I understand”
No…you really don’t
You don’t know what it’s like to hold the hand of death day after day
And you tell me you get it
Well, I’ll tell you are wrong…
Cuz you can’t get it.
As much as I want someone to take this
burden off my shoulders…it doesn’t seem to be
….oh, I don’t know what I’m doing
Finding nothing in every door….
Feel so lost and so penetrated in a blazed cloud
all to be alone
In the sea of how long
And how forgotten..I’ve become.
Wrenching vanity……
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Death, Drunk, Poetry on September 14, 2011 by JenJuice
reveling in the future
back-dated and herring mucus
penetrates the view of you
when I think – of you
and sink
which, you are…blink by blink
so heart-wrenching to watch someone
die before your eyes;
there is no logic behind
the vanity and the pangs
the views and the lies
when you see the proud
and the oblong of
you and the (un)strong and the eye
withering limb by limb.
you – a so, very sad and dying song….
Phantom of a Notion….
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Cancer, Confined, Death, Mind, Poetry on June 28, 2011 by JenJuiceWine windows my bureaucracy of tales
How she goes
And oh, how once It was
And never well
Looted by the night
Thoughts escaping
To find serenity
Writing juggles my senses
Like the man that beckons
The little people in the muddy chair
At the stop sign
Under 5th and 2nd
Yo-yoing his wording
Like the manifestation
Of the sold sacrament
Sweeping through
The memories and the steps and so on….
Ticking the tock
As a semblance of
The addiction and the rock
But… I’m no martyr to time
Not even when you just gotta know
When the time and date you will die….
Sincere apologies straddle my ability
To feel okay with the
Phantom of notion
And the no embrace
Even when you can’t hide
Behind this pinching flesh-feeling
How about start breathing
And we’ll find the answer.
Momentary lapse….(s).
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Death, Family, Poetry on June 13, 2011 by JenJuiceWhat to have or have not is not my rhetorical mindset, not even how I alienate
and pretend…to lock up
it’s a happy place even with a serendipitous slaughter of some family members
that never reigns to the place of reality or novelties of sanction.
don’t light a match cause the oxygen may implode
to the happy place
we all know
creatures crawling in the impending noose
with the magnificence of the surreal plots
I don’t really have one, not even in my happy place
Rocking back and forth
To the Asian robe I serenade like the subtle geisha that lays in my diary
Memories gushing through the lit room I found the moon penetrating
Singling out debauched presents of thought
Like the torment and the habitual founding wicked names
I don’t mention when I talk
Not even when I speak, no not to you or the latter version of the distraught –
of how you symbolized my momentary lapse of condemnation and fault.
Jen Juice 