Jeanne's

You are thesubject of mysoliloquy.theheavens inmy dreams.thevictor inmy struggles. the vacuumof my...

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 15:51:00 +0800

You are

the
subject of my
soliloquy.
the
heavens in
my dreams.
the
victor in
my struggles.

the vacuum
of my loudness.
the pit
in my nightmares.
the fall
of my
battles.

ExpectationsI washesitant. A bitembarrassed.I asked youto come. And you did. I thought, it was...

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 15:14:00 +0800

Expectations

I was
hesitant. A bit
embarrassed.
I asked you
to come.

And you did.

I thought,
it was sweet.
We ate. We talked.
I mumbled. You laughed.

I poured you
myself.
You kept
staring at your phone.
Like a father at
the delivery room.
Like an astronomer
at the night sky.
Like me at you.

But I couldn’t touch you.

I stood up,
it’s time to go home.

How to Pick Up the PiecesWhen you are left exposedlike a seedless dandelionafter an anarchic...

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 14:57:50 +0800

How to Pick Up the Pieces

When you are left exposed
like a seedless dandelion
after an anarchic shitstorm,
don’t bend down & yank
your roots from the ground.
Don’t dream of licking the dirt
from your fingernails. Don’t
vibrate on the breeze of blame.
Don’t dress yourself in the darkness
of victimhood or suffocate yourself
with shame. This loss is not death.
Imagine a blaze of breath spilling
from a pair of thick lips stained with
your wine. Think of yourself a necklace
lolling on a lover’s neck still wet with
kiss. Severe your perception from
truth by popping your head off.
Shove every sad song into the hollow
of your stem & spread the milk
on your skin like salve. Learn
by heart that you can’t predict
the weather only prepare for it.
You will outgrow this. You are lion’s
teeth. You are medicine tongue.
Your roots are resilience. When
you have your heart under a
magnifying glass the only thing
left to do is sing for the sun &
light yourself on fire. Be ready
for the next good gust but
remember that you are not
a candle. You are not a match.
You are a goddamn wildfire.

- Amanda Oaks of WordsDance.com

Stars

Mon, 14 May 2012 10:35:00 +0800

Shall I not
see the same fumes
of light that left me mesmerized?

When all that
stayed in my heart are
kept away for
they say it never counts..

Shall every tell-tale stories
I have made
remain
imprisoned in my
dreams

Along
with that peculiar
Christmas dawn they
never believed?

I shall soon fly and take them back again! (When in fact
they were never lost)

I,
with it burning
in my spirit,
shall weave to
life the phantasms of these words..

It shall be as
the air in
my nostrils when I
breathe…

It shall be
the myriads of strength that will
wake me morning
by morning…

And

when

it

come to pass….

I shall

be satisfied…

Independence

Mon, 14 May 2012 10:32:00 +0800

There is this carousel I
admired with my heart. It has
hundreds of colors, It flashes
and sparks..

As I hide behind
the veils, I watch it
glow
through the night;
Prettier
and brighter,
It kissed all the soul
in my eyes.

With its
beauty, it gained power,
With its beauty
it turned fragile.. Unaware does
it flaunt, it draws
the stallions and boars..
They climbed it
but they fell, They touched it
and they burned..
But it’s not them
that I fear
nor the snare it conceals…

Because the criminal
is the monster..
Lurking inside..
It slithers in my veins, it resides
in my blood..
It burns
with desire, it salivates for the ride..
It’s gentle
but delirious, I’ve got to chain it with my life.

But how
shall I slay it
before it devours me? How shall I tear the flesh,
when the flesh
is in me? What’s in its heart is my delight,
should I break it and
break mine?

But the carousel, i think,
was naive of this beast.
Thus,it glared
and I lost.
I have given up the Ghost.

…

In my death, I felt pity. In my death,
I smelled candies…

…

Woe to the monster.
Cursed is the carousel.