Things that could have been... by Jenu1, literature
Literature
Things that could have been...
It begins behind two computers
(as it actually did, only…)
we are in the same room,
this time around.Perhaps a computer lab, or
a programming class, but
we are the only two who
are paying attention.A month passes, in opposite
corners, both alone, until
I sit beside you, as if
I've always been there.You don't dare to challenge me.So we begin to talk, hushed, with
furtive glances, & loud laughs.
We grow used to the teacher
shaking his head at us.When we're falling to C's, you
give me your number scrawled
on the back of a rough draft & I
type it in, & text you straight back.One day I miss the bus, & you offer
to take me home for the afternoon...
Desiring a pleasant day in February
Took me by the wrist, belly, flushed lips,
Thieving a kiss; later pulls a long drag
From a wide pipe, meanwhile selling me out to an old cousin
A homeless man also needing someone comfortable.
But we are not apart for long; I spend the next days
Being possessed over and over that possessed acreage
Breasts pressed against teeth
and nails. Like me. Lover-baby, asking me if I like
The smoking, honestly, as if my "no" would stop it.
But all we are is a fist lodged deep in my belly
Demanding tobacco leaves and gasoline. Bastard.
As you gently lay down to rest, peacefully dreaming
Of each terrible horror never to come.
As you wake, as you walk, as you carry
A fallible universe upon your shoulders. Where I left the pen and paper behind
Your world began to grow, and I forgot
How to put into words just how much
You still mean to me. Observing you, as you step over the lines
And back again, into battle, into peace.
Never sure where the line is drawn
Between freedom and happiness. I never asked to be part of your story
All I ever wanted was to write down the words
To tell my story through your eyes. Or was it
Your story, through my eyes? I forget. And if only it was jus...
I want to belong to the stars,
Not inside four walls in a single building
Resting on a plot of land defined
By lines drawn over mountains.For the space of our spirit is huge
Filled with emptiness and brightness,
Like the shape of the black and dotted universe
Compacted into the space between electrons.The truest words ever spoken: "God made man
In his own image, male and female he created them."
Spoken then, but never again, the mind behind nature
Says, "I am just as human as you are, and more human again."And God is patient, God will wait,
While the stars draw apart and the universe
Grows, so God too will also grow
Towards the predicted i...
The strangest thing though,
Is the smell
Oil, sweat, ash, a hint of blood
And cold, cold metal.
There are a hundred knives
Hanging from translucent threads
Above us,
Twinkling like stars, even
In the dimmest light
And silent
Except when they swing together,
Then a ringing--soft and gentle
Like wedding bells, and I
Gaze at them in awe---
These glittering metallic icicles.
"Look at them," I say
"What is it?" he looks at me
Never following my constant gaze
Upward.
"It is nothing"
I whisper, because I am terrified.
In this way she showed them
She would be distinguished in war
With sword and shield in hand
The ancient warrior maiden
Leaps into the fray.But you, young one, should say inside
Learn you ABC's and 123's
Two plus two is four, and remember
In Chapter 5 we learned,
Or Chapter 2 when we did No, I don't. I don't even remember
Breakfast, so tired, can't think.
Crushed by the passive resistance of white walls
Applause dies in apathy, continued only by
Muscles, relaxing and contracting sporadically.No bells! A young boy shouts in glee
Great now we shall never leave the compressing hallways
And the warrior maiden within
Slowly dies
Into nothing.
Will you stay here, with me? Forever? the little girls voice echoed gently against the soaring walls of the old church. Yes. I will be here, forever. My sweet darling, dont ever leave. His rumbling voice spoke caressingly, like firm hands holding one safe from a fatal fall. The girls voice sighed, and the ancient rusty bed groaned miserably as she curled in for the night. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~One more strike CLANG! The hole was just big enough now. Squeezing through, the girl barely avoided lacerating herself against the barbed poles that made her cage. Her hands were already bloodied and torn by sho...
My world of fantasy
Is slipping away from me
Dragons fade over bright horizons
Unicorns slip into forested shadows
Mermaids plunge into darkest depths
All evade my growing-up eyesAnd as the trials and terrors of life
Pummel away at my childhood dreams
Adulthood sweeps my vision
To money, college, growing families
The magical stories-once crowding my head
Are now lost-rapidly fading mistWhen did the simple telling of a story
Transform into the beastly process?
When the magic of youth fails
To capture stories in our imaginations
We rely instead on plotting note cards
To substitute for the magic of the story
Is this the regret of adulthood?
Let the years roll by
Let them disappear
In the past
So that tomorrow might make
A better todayTime does such a great job
Making today yesterday
Twenty-four hours equals
Another day wasted
Now is here, and gone.What change did you make?
What love did you give?
None, today is the same
As yesterday, as will
Tomorrow be.So let the years roll by
Possibly, unlikely, changing
Little by little
Like evolution of the heart
Did evolution really happen?
Disilusionment from Philosophy by Jenu1, literature
Literature
Disilusionment from Philosophy
begins in the step
between one ivory stair and the next
when you take a breath--
sudden, dark and powerful
throwing softened shadows into sharp relief.The truth between the top of the tower
and the bottom is this: no one knows
anything, and we all die.In my imagination, the sky is my training ground
For interior decorating.
"What do the shape of the clouds, or the colors
tell guests about you? ...all about
Impressions."And I am no better than those
barbaric lions with notions of nobility
clambering over the teeth of dead elephants.The truth is, these pretentious meta-thoughts
Won't bring my family back to me
Anymore than "I love you."
And ...
Things that could have been... by Jenu1, literature
Literature
Things that could have been...
It begins behind two computers
(as it actually did, only…)
we are in the same room,
this time around.Perhaps a computer lab, or
a programming class, but
we are the only two who
are paying attention.A month passes, in opposite
corners, both alone, until
I sit beside you, as if
I've always been there.You don't dare to challenge me.So we begin to talk, hushed, with
furtive glances, & loud laughs.
We grow used to the teacher
shaking his head at us.When we're falling to C's, you
give me your number scrawled
on the back of a rough draft & I
type it in, & text you straight back.One day I miss the bus, & you offer
to take me home for the afternoon...
Desiring a pleasant day in February
Took me by the wrist, belly, flushed lips,
Thieving a kiss; later pulls a long drag
From a wide pipe, meanwhile selling me out to an old cousin
A homeless man also needing someone comfortable.
But we are not apart for long; I spend the next days
Being possessed over and over that possessed acreage
Breasts pressed against teeth
and nails. Like me. Lover-baby, asking me if I like
The smoking, honestly, as if my "no" would stop it.
But all we are is a fist lodged deep in my belly
Demanding tobacco leaves and gasoline. Bastard.
As you gently lay down to rest, peacefully dreaming
Of each terrible horror never to come.
As you wake, as you walk, as you carry
A fallible universe upon your shoulders. Where I left the pen and paper behind
Your world began to grow, and I forgot
How to put into words just how much
You still mean to me. Observing you, as you step over the lines
And back again, into battle, into peace.
Never sure where the line is drawn
Between freedom and happiness. I never asked to be part of your story
All I ever wanted was to write down the words
To tell my story through your eyes. Or was it
Your story, through my eyes? I forget. And if only it was jus...
I want to belong to the stars,
Not inside four walls in a single building
Resting on a plot of land defined
By lines drawn over mountains.For the space of our spirit is huge
Filled with emptiness and brightness,
Like the shape of the black and dotted universe
Compacted into the space between electrons.The truest words ever spoken: "God made man
In his own image, male and female he created them."
Spoken then, but never again, the mind behind nature
Says, "I am just as human as you are, and more human again."And God is patient, God will wait,
While the stars draw apart and the universe
Grows, so God too will also grow
Towards the predicted i...
Disilusionment from Philosophy by Jenu1, literature
Literature
Disilusionment from Philosophy
begins in the step
between one ivory stair and the next
when you take a breath--
sudden, dark and powerful
throwing softened shadows into sharp relief.The truth between the top of the tower
and the bottom is this: no one knows
anything, and we all die.In my imagination, the sky is my training ground
For interior decorating.
"What do the shape of the clouds, or the colors
tell guests about you? ...all about
Impressions."And I am no better than those
barbaric lions with notions of nobility
clambering over the teeth of dead elephants.The truth is, these pretentious meta-thoughts
Won't bring my family back to me
Anymore than "I love you."
And ...
Sometimes your fingers are trees
Twisting into the ground, looking for water
And your roots crinkle, exposed in the cold
Autumn sun. Gnarled and lovely, you suck the world
Inside you.Sometimes wine is as beautiful
As the color of your lips, and you find
Freedom, and meaning in the universe
In the tip of the glass, the color of
The sunflower in the window, reflecting
Off the edge.Sometimes the world and your mind
Don't coincide, and the collision creates
Off-kilter poetry, in beautiful
Divergent angles, twisting off the refractions
In your eyelids.
I met Belinda McGranger on what should have been an uneventful business trip. No sooner had I taken off my seat belt when a lightning storm started to rage around us. The girl turned to me with a smile half-happy, half-guilty after we began to fly, and introduced herself as Belinda."You know, my momma always says I'm like a bad-luck charm with a salt-shaker dash of good juju. It's why stuff always happens around me, like this lightning storm. But just the same, we'll make it out all right, these things always do." But the storm continued to follow us like a lost, flea-ridden dog that would never go away. I tapped my feet nervously, stirrin...
I write like a madwoman.Scribbling across the page my pencil burns
Deep into the paper; the smell of smoke
Signals the creative fire
Raging within my mind.
Flames lick across the rampaging lines,
Scorching the letters into permanent
Semblances of being.
Words takes shape,
Large and feral, as I cry in the pain, the
Strength of emotion,
And the primal need to translate
ThisInto language. Feel the ecstasy and relief,
The catharsis in these words as they
Tumble onto the page, baring souls to a level
We never knew existed.
For here we are free, in the paper we are alone.
The chains which hold our minds in place are lost;
The pencil flies unfett...
An Apology Walking on Two Legs by Jenu1, literature
Literature
An Apology Walking on Two Legs
sighs, wavering in and out of
thin air; the wind blows, carrying away
scraps of husk from its fingertips.
a silhouette outlined in dust.
it creates no shadow; the light does not
reflect it.a voice whispers constantly around it
surrounding its lips, its eyes, its mind,
"i'm sorryi'm sorry i'msorry, sorry i'm..."
persistent enough
to erase it.
Come to the weeping cup
Come and sip your sorrows in peace
Drink deeply, drink fully
'Til every last drop is gone.
Rest your hand against soft petal's edge
Sigh into the silent air.
Release your tears, let them flow unbound
Let grief be welcome, then
Let it fade away in time.
Let memories between each teardrop
Take root in softened hearts
For the love that once was
Always shall be.
I find myself at a loss of what to say
My darlingI find myself wanting
To paint scenes of autumn
On a sidewalk beside a quiet road
Where you and I stand with 3 layers of coats
5 textbooks, and all the newness of instant trust
Between us, and yet
All the orange and brick-colored leaves
Crackle in harmony to the love poem
Written across our eyes.And I find myself wanting
To flourish my pencil at you in winter
When you sneak up behind me carrying
A cup of hot cocoa and the lingering hope
For a kiss.And I find myself scrambling
At the edges of my mind for one more
Poem that speaks of love and hope
And no romance,But I find my vocabulary is lim...
After my page was hacked, there's a lot of information I can't get back, like journals, my friends list, my watch list, all the comments and everything I've saved up over the years. Most of my poetry is backed up, as are my favorites, but otherwise, there's not much left. Do you think I should switch to a new account, and start over?