The south tried to teach me that being pretty…..I had one game.
Money.
Brains don’t matter.
I must be crazy.
I’m good for one thing – To look at.
To touch.
To keep quiet.
But oh, you peasants
Don’t you know
The truth
Isn’t that you were the whitest
In a doctrine
Of the you and I are in.
You caught lessons so old and thin
You never asked why
You felt any of that for.
Just a lousy I told you so
Hope to see you grow
The thought of this misery
Is the next alternative
To the life you were destined for.
Is here.
Archive for Her
Here. (is) Her.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags growth, Her, pillowtalk, Poetry, Truth on November 18, 2017 by JenJuiceBe-Title-(wo)men(t).
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags black and white, breathe, dance, emotion, floetry, Her, introspection, mantra, mind travel, movement, poems, Poetry, segregated, self love, shadow on December 12, 2016 by JenJuice
Shadow
In a segregated moment of where I am and where I want to be…I find floating movements.
Reveal the floetry of where we be…it is and it’s not me..but it is..only me.
In the mind’s eye of how I see.
Dream foundations and lost time found somewhere between you and me.
I just want to…..Surrender…..to you.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags Her, him, jenjuice, Love, Lovers, passion, Poetry, raw, Truth, writing on October 24, 2016 by JenJuiceThe thundering thoughts of you franchise me like the wall
I spray-painted my digits on – when you weren’t looking, of course.
The covert her-ness. Never close enough and always craving more –
of you. This may be the hardest rendition of a teaching I’ve reached.
This point.
The undertones of speech yet…the wetness of
the energy is so fucking deep – we can’t even speak.
What words are there to be said – when we speak our own language
on a frequency we both understand? So, why is this one of such an insatiable deliverance?
When all I want to do is surrender….I can’t.
My place…..
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags elecricity, Her, him, Love, passion, poems, Poetry, writing on October 23, 2016 by JenJuiceI want to sleep just to wake up in your arms.
Wither(ed) and some place…searching for the…Her.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags darkness, heart, Her, home, introspection, Love, Naked, Poetry, searching, skin deep, travel on September 11, 2016 by JenJuice
The quantitative algorithms flicker in the background–
Like honking geese vibrating through a ripple of broken tendencies.
I find myself still…wanting to run….her, the lonely traveler – her soft and rigid embrace.
Ever wonder what it would be like to go to the furthest side of the earth to remove…
All you have ever known? Well, yeah, me too….
Funny, thing is you really never forget, and running really never gets you anywhere, but–
Further from yourself than you were. And, further than you want to BE.
So, where is that you (I) want to be? In my own skin…where do I begin? With me.
The lonely sin. I don’t believe in.
My love gone and buried. Or, is that just fear locked away in my head?
The parallels…the bottomless questions of not wanting to sit still.
Terrified of the vulnerability, yet laying leg-splayed opening up to
Every inch of myself…and, her fingertips tip-toeing through my naked skinned being….
Her mind – the bold and so profound liquid movements. I crawl. I come – hither. She whispers.
Come home…
Jen Juice 