Archive for Mind

bATEd breath(s).

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , on January 24, 2022 by JenJuice

There are many moments when it feels like I’m in a maze of Malkoviches only to be the last part of my genome I can’t really define that or this…just a thought, Nothing more, but a or a thousand fucking thoughts…and, the only one I need to hear is simply…revealing herself.


Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , , on November 25, 2018 by JenJuice

I sometimes go days without speaking to another human. It feels normal to me until I recognize I haven’t spoken to a human in days.


Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , on October 8, 2018 by JenJuice

I don’t know where it comes from when I don’t think…
It takes me 5 seconds to write a poem and I thought…I don’t.
They are just words – Inflow.

The architecture of my mind.

Frequency level…

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 7, 2018 by JenJuice

I speak to the subconscious.21728357_10211285407265845_3806728693056502364_n


Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , on August 24, 2018 by JenJuice

The mind exists to figure itself out.

Found(ed). Restless…ly.

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , , on November 9, 2016 by JenJuice

What is it that you are my mind’s eye presently? What is that water that needs a desert? You, the teacher…tell me what is the question I forgot to rescue?

The wonderment of the widow caresses ever so slightly the demised threat – the culture….

…Of the universe-soul (loneliness)….the embodiment of the empty foolish world….but, truth be told..isn’t language designed to help us understand the code…after all?

Phantom of a Notion….

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , on June 28, 2011 by JenJuice

Wine 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.