…Are difficult to face, but that’s where freedom is found.
Archive for Poetry
Reflections…
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags black and white, Death, finite, introspection, Life, Love, mortality, Poetry on October 29, 2020 by JenJuiceIn lieu of sacrificing the soul…..
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags atomic, black and white, dark matter, darkness, feeling, Poetry, sacrifice on October 9, 2020 by JenJuiceI think about Dad and how I got martyrdom in the DNA
My Mon… a sociopath.
My Dad.. a martyr.
But don’t they feed each other?
I guess without feeding it …it starves to death and we define..
Our new way…in lieu of flowers,
Kindly fuck off I say…(to the programming of centuries).
To be the rock/evolvement of the lineages is the highest form of love. ️
Trust that.
I say.
Fuego.
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags emotion, feeling, fire, human, Lifetime, Love, Poetry on October 2, 2020 by JenJuiceThe problem with fire is when feeling burn is the only feeling you feel is real.
A child (in the) hood….
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags childhood, jenjuice, Love, Poetry, resilience, the professional on September 29, 2020 by JenJuiceI’ve become a foster hoodrat who has the unexplained capacity for nuisance that almost destroyed her.
Blurry Prints….
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags focus, how life is, Life, Poetry, story, wisdom on September 13, 2020 by JenJuiceNothing they ever did ever mattered, but it did cuz it’s the mirror – the coke lines snorted from the blurry thumb prints ravished on the doorknob tho – not much to look at when we were kids.
Desire Is The Is-Ness.
Posted in Jencerpts.., movement with tags #desire, dancer, divinyls, flow, jenjuice, movement, Poetry, ring me up, surreal erotica on June 22, 2020 by JenJuiceLookin’ Out for #1
Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags dance, flow, movement, Poetry, surreal erotica on June 1, 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.
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?
