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Kesa
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Joined: 05 Mar 2010
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 16, 2010 10:43 am    Post subject: My Words. Reply with quote

My Words

Uncomplicate things.

I listen to your thoughts as they slide tingling down my throat.
Sensualized aftertastes beckoning a beginning.

Writing seems to complicate things.

If only my words could hover between destiny and fate,
so that they needed neither one nor the other.

You listen to my thoughts as if they were bubbles to be caught in an updraft.
Multicolored musings shattered by the sun and you smile.

Just jump into the pile of my words and scatter them to the wind.
So that you and I can take a walk later and rearrange them.

Because writing only seems to complicate things.

If only my thoughts could navigate time and space and live in the stars,
so that someday you could see the constellations they create.

Uncomplicate things, please. So that I need no words again.
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 16, 2010 10:47 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Your Words

It was a time when my frontal lobe lost out to my amygdala.
Dragged by my heart, skin skidding on the street.
Your words branded my being.
Survived with only pebbles embedded in my elbows.
My grief merely bruised.
Drenched with the salty tears of that place.
But my soul is still hanging wet.
If only I could have been the one to hold the iron.
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 16, 2010 10:52 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Those Words

Embedded in the arrangement of some writer.
Itís there.

A thought saved that changed the course of a lifetime
A neuron fired that started the chain of events.
Perhaps poetry of soulful singing,
an eavesdrop in a store
Itís there.

Somewhere, if it were all to be put together, it can be recovered.
A vast database that contains it. Protected by massive amounts of nothingness.

If itís studied. If it isnít already lost.
An amalgamation of perfect words
Found in faith that has yet to be seen
in this lifetime.

Words that will explain everything.
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amapola
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Joined: 22 Mar 2010
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 18, 2010 9:05 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I love your poems Jenny. I've never really studied poetry in an academic sense, I respond to it on a gut level but your poems feel so sensory, sometimes sensuous. I particularly like the first one, My Words. I love how you mix up senses ...thoughts slide tingling down your throat and this ....You listen to my thoughts as if they were bubbles to be caught in an updraft.
Multicolored musings shattered by the sun and you smile.
That is such a wonderful word picture.

Your Words is also a very powerful piece of writing, I can feel the pain of it.

A line from another piece of writing of yours I can't forget is ....
The taste, a battery lick
Wow, you can't get much more graphic than that.

more please Very Happy
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 21, 2010 10:40 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Dear Scarecrow.

My fingernails twist at the knot that binds your being. Frayed pieces of rope fall to the ground. Almost. Iíve always been good at undoing knots. There. Your arms float to your side and your fingers try to thank me before your slippery lips can. Scarecrow how many times do you have to find you to find love?

I blur past your hyperactive creativity as it sparkles and pops beside my ears. Simply beautiful. You sweep your arm large as if you were carrying armfuls of cornstalks centering my escape. Your indigo purpose almost comes between us. Catch me focused or Iíll fly away.

You stand in the middle of the field, imprinted of a language long lost and wonder if your sparks could set this field ablaze. Itís impossible to ask. Itís impossible to think. Not yet. In the middle of the day your shadow always stays under your future. Just hold me now and weíll figure it out later, Iíve landed.

There are no clouds on the horizon that shines blue from yesterday and the day before. Perhaps someone has them under glass. I sigh at your freedom. Your fingers respond, wrap around my side, pinky, ring, middle, pointer and your thumb fit right in the spot that is yours and yours alone. The pressure reminds me of our reality, pressed deep. My inertia always stops when yours crisscrosses mine. Feel me.

We stand in the middle of the field. The scarecrow without a need, a soul without a want. Ideas of hope, mingle with the oxygen. And my mind asks my body if this tingly feeling I have is your being filtering through mine. If only we could harness it and hand shake it over the earth so that it would grow anew every year.

You smile, I look and laugh and it combusts our energy setting it off like an electromagnetic pulse, rippling into tomorrow. The sky waves, the ground feels so empty under our feet, it being so earth, follows suit. Your hand doesnít move a millimeter. Closer. The whole world rumbles as the blue layers of sky fall upon our conversation as we whisper the secrets of life.

Even though I know your arms are tied to your post I can always hear you calling. The next time adjust the sharpness, tinker the space between and Iíll come running to untie your now so that the future can be yesterday, again. Can I have your slippery lips now scarecrow, so that I can thank-you properly?
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 07, 2010 2:20 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Bless

Gray matter weighs so heavily upon my yesterday. No different from that of before. But alas, Tuesday descends so slowly until I answer. Asking questions with bottomless responses would make for a perfect conversation. The lighter future.

Utterances of discovery creating mere meaning that I didnít even know existed. Moments in slow motion that are file folded in my mind, brought to fruition by the day. Translated by my pencil, eaten by my sketchbook. If Iím lucky theyíre in color.

Just patiently waiting for an ear that sniffs for a conundrum and lips that only mouth intention. While I wonder about wondering and I ponder about pondering. Thinking about the day when nothing is perfect and I knew that he didnít weigh yesterday quite as important as today.

The telephone rings and I hear your smile on the other end. Could you share with me your mind later tonight when I share with you my body? Would it be okay to ask to just listen, perhaps for a week, to process the process? And you can share your ridges that no one knows you have.

Now, as the wind blows the sunshine through my window while the ordinary planes, and the dog barks across the lake, life just becomes a bunch of beautiful questions. Where tomorrow means I can hear you answer. Or maybe, if Iím blessed, you might just have to release your own.
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ZeNebula
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Joined: 08 Mar 2010
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 07, 2010 7:50 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Your writing is so easy to appreciate.

Your a really good word artist.. i love your style of write
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Thu Jul 01, 2010 4:34 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Life without Strawberries

That day we were laughing in a sparkly way about life that only little children do. Your lovely goof was on and my switch seems stuck that way.
We walked along the seawall gingerly, as if treading fast would make the sun fall down. Watching our feet from our eye corners, darting from our downward path to catch a glimpse of this new elation, the sea and ourselves. While the sun was tanning our bones and rebooting our souls.

You asked me about life and love and everything in between. You gave me your theory of being and not being. So unaware that your words were like the last click of a rubix cube. I turned to you and shared my curious crooked smile. The same one I give you to this day when you retreat into that sexy mind of yours. The short journey of tide pools and unearthing one another in the sun couldnít have fictionalized any better. My friendship became yours that day in your understanding of my odd focus, intertwined amongst your hectic gift.

I am grateful for you because without you and your goof, my life is a world without strawberries.
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amapola
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Joined: 22 Mar 2010
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PostPosted: Thu Jul 01, 2010 5:15 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Jenny this is just so lovely, it makes my heart smile. And you are so right, some people are life's strawberries.
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Fri Jul 02, 2010 8:54 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Really, thank-you, you are too kind. I just hope that whatever I was feeling that day came across. For it to actually make its way to paper means it was enough to move me. I appreciate you looking at my stuff girl. Thanks. Smile
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Fri Jul 02, 2010 4:13 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Squiggle

Today, I feel like a squiggle, haphazard in its haste, waiting for someone to pull me off the page and make me a useful line. A straight guide, or an important margin that tucks all those irrepressible notes neatly off to the side. Today, I am a wonder, a giant swoop hovering over a dot with her hands out, mouth shut but screaming in elation, as it reverberates around the inside of my skin. Today, I use my waves to catch glimpses of joy that youíve tucked away for a rainy day. Today, I hope for rain. So that I can pick up my pencil and draw questions and squiggles, and life, without over thinking, without pain, without yesterday, without you. Today, I feel for you, and you and you, distracting myself from my own intentions and building guidance walls about my art. Today, I have just one giant piece of paper for me to write myself upon, so that someday if I forget that I was once a squiggle with swirly loops; I can just draw myself back into existence. If only I could draw you. Today, like all days, I stand in front of the mountains of information waiting for time to translate them back into sand. Today, I am a statement. a fact, a meme, a smile from a stranger, a humid breeze, a gentle voice that makes you laugh, if only just a little, a disorganized artist struggling to make room in life, and life in this room. So please if you ask me today, who will I be, I am just the artist without her pen, again. The soul searching for tepid, inspiring, porous, joyous souls that comprehend the vast importance of finding others like her. Today, I am a stop sign painted green.
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amapola
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Joined: 22 Mar 2010
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PostPosted: Tue Jul 06, 2010 10:19 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I love how your mind works Jenny Very Happy This is so imaginative. Who else would have likened themselves to punctuation?

Particularly liked these lines:
Today, I feel like a squiggle, haphazard in its haste, waiting for someone to pull me off the page and make me a useful line.

.....distracting myself from my own intentions

Today, I am a stop sign painted green.

(on a more humourous note have you ever seen this?)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lF4qii8S3gw
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We cross our bridges as we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and the presumption that once our eyes watered
~ Tom Stoppard
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Sat Jul 10, 2010 3:54 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hiddenisms

I memorized the way you held out your hand, quickly sketched it upon my mind, your fingertips empty of hardship. Vulnerable lines that lead the way to joy. Roads to freedom. Why is your grasp empty? Freeze frames of my dancing hand, that speaks more than my mouth ever can. Magnetic poles to yours. Palm up, until it twists around, empty no longer. Pulses paralleled.

My fingerprints encircle your own, writing of a language that only you and I can speak. Fingers slip in between the spaces, sides tingling until tomorrow. Tips that lead to surfaces fitting so smoothly into your fingered void. Just the spaces of your hand, the soft spaces of my being, the vast spaces of my questions filled with your being.

So many spaces awaiting your letters in the future of yesterday. Oh, how I beg of you to leave your fingerprints upon my hiddenisms. I wonít tell.
Fingerprints that would map your way later. For the times when you too have that feeling of an empty hand and an overblown heart.

My heart is so over capacity, I just donít know what to do but write and find sentences that can temper it just a bit, in a space outside my own. Tomorrow, your fingerprints a masterpiece upon my soul, cryptic, completely circled, and colorful, decorating my flaws. Today, gently place your fingertips upon my overblown heart so that I can breathe again.
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Sat Jul 10, 2010 3:57 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Poppy wrote:
I love how your mind works Jenny Very Happy

Poppy, thank-you, it's the greatest compliment I could receive. Ah, to be known for my mind and nothing else. Would be wonderful...
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Sat Jul 10, 2010 4:13 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Mason

For so many years you have been crawling into my existence, bricks in hand.
I let you in trepidatiously, not sure what your words could bring. ďIts just one or two bricksĒ, you scoffed,Ē how am I to build anything with just these?Ē With your sly smile. What can words do anyway? ďJust phrases, without punctuation,Ē you said.

But you never told me that your words were drawn upon bright blue paper. You kept coming, brick by brick, word by word, stone by stone. Pillars with purpose. Walls with structure, roofs. Walls that contain bubbling presences inside them, holding parties upon the streets. Screaming of love, singing the stories of the beauty that being together brings.

So long it lied half completed, awaiting your arrangement. Longing for more than just your foundation. Until you came tiptoeing on today with a usual brick in hand. This time, you said youíd only stay for a bit. But I didnít know you had been smuggling parts of your own self within these stones. I didnít know that every moment where you had full access that you were building a home for yourself upon my heart. Now that you are here, will you stay awhile and see what this world is like?
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Thu Jul 15, 2010 10:27 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Compound Words

Make me marbled, letters. Scrape the melted clock off the hearth. Itís worth that much anyway. Instead, go outline my soul deep with your moments, your lip prints at my ribcage. Sketch futures at our dinner table with nothing but your spoken word. Sharing knowledge of minds we stutter to comprehend. Later, you will have to show me with your hands only. Tomorrow, while I pour the alphabet for our breakfast, we will sit cross-legged and digest the victory in your settled euphony. Iíd like if our words mingled when the sun went down, all dressed in the nightís finest, boldly circling history, making compound words while others still live in dreams. Words vibrantly morphing color with the shuttered coming of the day.








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Kesa
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PostPosted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 1:04 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Paisleys and Purple

My eyes always get lost in life's colors. Light makes the shapes dance in a way I wish I could keep in an envelope to send to you via pony express. The breeze yells through the air, shading thoughts and highlighting life. Borrow my eyes and see the way I see myself. All paisleys and purple, half smiles with a pencil in my hair and a half constructed sentence awaiting a home. Just creating my own time to fill the spaces with my love, practicing patience, healing yesterday, building upon the good of today to make tomorrow better. Often wondering if I'm the only one who notices colors tip- toeing upon the seconds that have no matter. Just a lovingly carved figurehead upon a bow watching the waves beat upon her history. Hoping that there will be a day when my strengths overpower my faults and you fall in love again with the person I have always and forever will be. Try to get lost in colors, blend them like yesterday into today and make a new color for tomorrow, please. Know that they'll change with the hour of the day just like you and I but that's what makes life, love. Draw a picture of a whaling figurehead, all paisleys and purple, with a half-smile upon her face. And I will continue to love you deeper for all of your faults, so that your strengths become bolded; even if you will continue to only see my mistakes. I will be here just watching the waves wash away the words I keep trying to forget. Blending all these colors together for the day, with a half smile upon my face.
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Lover
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PostPosted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 3:56 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Beautiful, Jenny.
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amapola
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PostPosted: Mon Jul 26, 2010 5:55 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Very beautiful. Particularly like Paisleys and Purple ....it's magical.
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We cross our bridges as we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and the presumption that once our eyes watered
~ Tom Stoppard
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Kesa
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 04, 2010 10:39 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oh, my stars, my lovely stars have ceased their twinkle. They only talk so loud of all the past and none of the future. If only my wit could save me; if only it could be cyclical without an end. See me as I am naked, alone without the light from my stars. Step into my soul for a moment while you read these words, all primal screams up to the heavens, feel my heart collapsing upon itself while my foundation that I've laid for years with bare hands and raw love is washed away with salty time. Please just become my partner time.

If only my wit could save me, but you never cared very much for my wit or my art. So, what did you care for, besides you? You've got what you wanted while I sit here inside out, upside down broken-hearted and hardly broken. My wit will save me, better words will come, I will reattach it in a circle with my own neon pink love and I will wait to see what my future comes to whisper to me in the night. And every day that passes makes it that much easier to see what I would be missing. I'm just hoping that tonight my stars will start their twinkling again and sing of the destiny I must now create.
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