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jennifer-lynn
jennifer-lynn
American I am a small-time poet. I write when I can, when I'm inspired. I love it, and most of my poems reflect some point of my life.
In the darkest pathways will I roam, Making forgotten shadows my home. Find me in the secret lair, Behind your fears, discarded cares. I am the tunnel through the night Fastest way to avoid all light I am the heart, broken, called liar I am the sadness, madness, on fire.
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 7:51 AM UTC
Hatred
In a haze I came here, brand new. Fresh life. Newborn. There was someone here, waiting for me, arms wide open - it wasn't you. But they tasted so sweet on a lazy Sunday afternoon. They glimmered away too quickly and then - then there was you. You were ...you are sweeter still, but only in the half-darkness of almost sleep, only in the remainders of dreams. Too sweet. It's only now, when my eyes are wide open that I know. I know that it isn't the hands of a lover that sway my heart. It is not the sound of a familiar voice saying that they love me. Promising me. Needing me. It is not the chains of relationship or the trappings of "true love" that make me smile. It is the secret. The sweetness of innocent eyes shining out from a dark place. The promise of happiness, the kind that does not need certainty, that thrives on shadows and on broken hearts. Bad dreams. On unbidden but sweetest yet companions.
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Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 10:19 AM UTC
In a haze I came here
Here's the secret to it all. Did you catch that?  It moves so fast across the screen that you can't even see it.  Almost as if it was never even there. Like I purposefully didn't write anything. Why are you looking for secrets here when I don't have the answers, and poetry is just a sad story writer who thinks that sometimes words should be a disguise, hiding things that are too much - beauty, pain, wisdom - for prose? Why did you think that because this is a poem, and maybe you've read my other poems, and maybe you thought the title was alluring, that I would offer you anything even remotely brand new? Did you see that blankness?  It was the cold hard truth, it was the hurt the emptiness, the pain. And now, because I've used a lot of sad words for no obvious reason, you will spend the rest of this poem (and maybe a few moments longer) wondering what I meant and how this is beautiful.
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Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC
This is the Cold Hard Truth
Underneath a blinding sun - Drowning in the light around me! - My searching heart has finally come To find a heart seeks to surround me. Absorbed in that strong presence till A cloud sweeps across the sky And blocking the light becomes very still ...That cloud, dragging shadows by. Suddenly the darkness deepens, The shadows seeking yet to stay And when my heart my fear is keeping, That presence blows the storm away. Beautiful! my eyes now see The same world but no longer blinded By that same sun which now is free To once again continue shining. The darkness pulled my mind abroad Exposing things I'd never found And helping me against all odds To let my blessings now abound. Wrapped once again in safety by The heart that holds me near That deity somewhere in the sky, Who tells nothing to fear. And what is there but to believe Him? ...Nothing but to love; For though I have yet to really see Him, It was He who set the sun above.
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Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 11:52 PM UTC
Namely, Love.
It took you so long to understand And now that you do, it's too late. It took you too long to know what I had With someone who you are determined to hate. You don't even know that I speak to you now, Or that these words should apply. I'm not sure if I mean them but here they are - It takes so much more work to just lie. I would give a lot to say what I can't, Or forget what you so wish I could. Maybe you don't wish but I'll never know - It's too late because you never understood. And so I'll never ask what you do or don't want To be running around in my brain. All I know now is it doesn't matter, but still - It would have been nice to be spared that much pain.
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Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 3:22 AM UTC
Spare Me the Pain
I walk on quiet leopard's feet I stand atop a brand new day I live inside the rainy sky And dwell beneath the bird's pathway. I am a tiara of mountain peaks It is I who slink across the land Cloaking the earth in a shrouded film Yet I leave no footprints as my brand. In all I do, I can make no sound I envelop the planet in my grasp I do not feel the cold of the wind On my body no skin, on my cloak no clasp. I could not harm the pink skin of your wrist - Fear me not, I am only the mist.
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Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 3:15 AM UTC
Only the Mist
Night should not need to brag on so; If night were so pretty, should it not stand on its own feet so we'd all know its secret beauty is no secret as we've thought? Night is too quiet to need its own poetry. To fill silence so profound is to insist that Night continue to be lonely, to go on quietly - we ought let Night enjoy itself, not resist. And lastly Night's sweet and somber melody should not hold us more entranced than Day. The song is not heard less often nor played more readily - each tune is a lovely song with something to say. Night does not need our pity to feel brave. Nor our sadness, fears or triumphs to be safe.
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Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 3:10 AM UTC
Night Should Not Need
...we're a strange couple. I love the way you smile and how you laugh, how you can make even my worst days somehow better. How you can allow me to feel once again by just opening your eyes and telling me about myself in the grim reflection. You're my best friend, I've known you for years and years. You understand my hurts and flaws and victories in ways beyond words; you alone know how I am ...and why. When I am angry, you quell the storm; you can see into the pits of my raging darkness and with a few simple words, douse the flames. When I am sad, you can lift the sails; you know all the secret panels which might have burst open in the wind. When I anger you, I know what I've done and I feel guilty. You can make me see the heart of my mistake with one simple change of tone, a flick at the end of each word - to make me realize I am a fool again, and that I feel so sorry. And when I am happy, you alone know fully why; you see the truth behind the laughter and I cannot keep secrets. You breed love with every breath. You see my flaws and yet you invite me in. You know my dangers, and yet you keep me here.
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Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 12:36 AM UTC
You & I
You held me tightly to your chest Said you would never let me go; You lost me deep within your words But little did we know That now the deed's been done The cat's escaped our bag We will hurt for what we've said They will shred us into rags - Get your hands off my throat Don't try to strangle me You know this thing is not my fault. Shut up and let it be. You didn't mean to claw me out Didn't mean to push me down Now you want to help me out, But you're too late to save me now. So just leave, My wounds are gonna bleed As soon as you remove your hands and run away. Just go, I'll leave a trail in the other direction Give them something that they can follow. As you run away, Everything you wanted is going down the drain. This is the feeding frenzy now, They're here to find us out, See what you started coming down. This is the feeding frenzy now.
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Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 2:00 PM UTC
Feeding Frenzy
There is a bench in the back of my mind, Where I like to come and sit. Where the winds of my thoughts blow gently about, but I don't have to think about it. I sit on this bench in a garden so sweet, it smells of honey and dew; the fragrance of dreams billows quietly here, And I like smelling the roses, too. I come to this bench when I am angry or sad, When I'd rather search clouds for shapes; I grow trees in abundance and let honeybees roam, mend broken ideas wrapped 'round old tapes. This bench is my place for when I must hide - Secret safe nobody shall find. I surround it with good things and breaths of fresh air, this bench at the back of my mind.
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Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 4:20 AM UTC
The Bench