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Janine Jacobs Jun 2015
Thoughts of you raises a pleasuring pain
While the devil's whispers roar within
Its deafening persuasion to ignore what is right
and lust after that which can never be mine
Torture so sweet, I beg at your feet
To crawl under my skin and consume me
  Jun 2015 Janine Jacobs
Jordan Harris
It isn't sadness;
that is the biggest misconception.
People treat it like an emotion infecting a blue day,
labeling slightly soaked cheeks as this ailment of the mind.
The term is cracked like a whip in stinging insult:
weak, powerless, loser, outcast.

It is feeling a lack of feeling,
where one exists in a mental state of wanting to be anything but lethargic
yet finding nothing worthwhile inside
with which to take action:
no talent, no skill, no interest.

It is not only not believing one has any energy
but seeing nothing to which to give it,
in yourself, in others, in the world.

It is severe despondency and dejection,
consuming worlds like oozing, viscose magma
dribbling uncontrollably as burning ***** from the mountain's fiery mouth
burping filthily as is sludges onward.

It isn't sorrow, or misery, or despair.

It is inadequacy,
an ebb of interest in life,
with a sliver of interest to take it.
Janine Jacobs May 2015
You spit cold words,
mine evokes empathy in stone hearts
My first 10 word poem, off the back of my poem titled "Xenophobia"
Janine Jacobs May 2015
Sometimes you meet people
You recognise your soul’s counterpart in them
Somehow you’re just in sync
Same way of thinking, rationalising, dreaming
You can’t explain it
Something so familiar in them
Sometimes you meet them at the wrong time
The connection you both recognise is forbidden
Even though you crave them in the most innocent form
Where lust and love isn’t involved
Friendship in ways that only they will understand
Where the walls you have built doesn’t exist
Sometimes you just want to get to know them better
Yet this too is a sin
This simple request has too many complications attached
Janine Jacobs May 2015
Struggling to catch my breath
as the corporate noose tightens
with every mundane task flung my way

Slowly losing my contentment
with this poor disguise of slavery

Suffering alone in silence
with a fake smile plastered on my face

I swear I've been here before...
living the same year on repeat

This can't be it
there has to be more to this boring game

“Money can't buy life”
realisation burns like a slap in the face

I'm smarter than this
I won't get caught in this web of numbness
that comes from only existing

Opening my eyes with a blade
it hurts... the truth always does
Opening my eyes to life
...that feels good though
Janine Jacobs May 2015
Narrow minds plague our streets
Ignorant views and empty arguments
Hearts filled with hatred for no reason

Are we not a country that fought for equality
Has the long walk of freedom not been walked for us
Did I misunderstand the meaning of Ubuntu

What happened to love, peace and empathy
The simplicity of an act of kindness
Has fear swept all your morals away?

They bleed when they are cut
They cry when they are sad
We breath the same air
Laugh at the same jokes
and even dream the same dreams

We are the same
It's not even about colour
How is their black different to yours?
brother hating brother
They too are Africa

Soften your blows
Try on their shoes
Its hurting them
and it will hurt you too
Recent Xenophobic attacks in South Africa
  May 2015 Janine Jacobs
Mercurychyld
Only you can translate
where you are
on your voyage through
this varied farce
called “life”.

No one else can dictate
to you…
or should even dare…
how to phrase
your feelings,
your thoughts,
your personal moments.

Who is anyone to
cause another to feel
inept or inferior
for wording their
experiences as they will?

We are all both
audience and poet,
consumed by the
powerful spell of words
and meaning
we are bonded
in ink.

It takes gumption
and courage
to give voice to
your vision of
the world.

It often requires
resilience and nerve
to open your heart
and peel back the
layers of skin,
and let others take
a long look at the
inner workings of YOU.

Be brave,
take courage,
let your soul speak
in its very own
language.

People will read
your words and
listen to the sweet
whispers
and thunderous shouts
that flow from pens
and keys
to release the
inner demons and angels
and the lyrical
vines that bloom and live
in our individual
landscapes,

fluidly coursing from
our own rabbit holes
with fortitude and grace
and our neverlands,
where we need never
grow up,

to share with those
that need to see
and hear and feel
and wonder.


-by Mercurychyld
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