Jen - Hello Poetry

Mar 2020

John Edward Smallshaw

The way we're being led in,
well,
it's doing my fukin head in.

real in the
unreal city,

Eliot put it better,
when he
wrote,
' I had not thought death had undone so many '

who's had a hand in this 'Wasteland'
and
where's your love song now
Mr Prufrock?

so long
which is as long as it is or
longer if the government decrees.

no one talks of Michelangelo.

Jen Mar 2020

tightrope

One foot
In front
Of the other
Lava below
Don't
Look down
Or be afraid
Only 20 feet
To go
Only 10 feet
Left
Look forward
One foot
In front
Of the other
On the
tightrope
Hanging
By a thread
Never
Look back
Once you
Reach
The other
End

Jen Mar 2020

Virus

Could this be the end,
There is no telling
In this life
There is no telling

The virus spreads
Droplets spilling out,
Cover your mouth,
Don't be exposed
Empty shelves
Aisle after aisle depleted
Of bread and toilet paper
Keep your distance
To 3 feet or more,
Eerie, reminiscent
Of outbreak depictions
On the movie screen,
COVID-19
Found its place
In history

Can anyone else not believe this is happening? Why does it seem surreal. Life is unpredictable for sure... I am counting my blessings and in a way feel like I'm living in some strange movie. I lived in Seattle for about the last two years, and right as the first cases of coronavirus were found there my entire life happened to turn upside down (Completely unrelated to the virus) and it was like I was led far from Seattle to be closer to my family. We are staying safe so far and have each other for support.

Stay safe out there <3

Jen Mar 2020

Real

I can't hold this in
Any longer,
The need to live,
To be free and
To love me
And realize that
If I ever give my heart away
That person should
Bring me joy
It's okay to cry,
Never let someone
Tell you it isn't.
It's okay to feel raw emotion,
Doesn't mean you're damaged,
Just means that you feel
And that you are real.

Jen Mar 2020

Once Thought

Astonishing impressions dripped from the ceiling-
They revealed repellent markings sought to arrest
The soul.

Rubbed the surface of a lamp far too many times
Thinking if I'd closed my eyes and made a wish that
I'd never know my heart
Could feel this way

Once thought that something so special could exist in this life,
Once thought that the covering was strong
And wouldn't chip away like cheap paint scratched slowly

Embellished what could be in so many stories with no end.