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 Jul 2016 Jen Grimes
Torin
Guitar
 Jul 2016 Jen Grimes
Torin
I've forgotten how she feels under my hands
The way glorious music came forth as my fingers touched her neck
I held her in my lap and every note was right
She spoke to me so beautifully

The shape of her body
The way my voice danced around her
A song I had to sing
And I was happy

I haven't felt her in forever
But I still listen
Maybe such dulcet notes alive
Still strive to grace my life

Maybe life is not a game
But I play
And I'll play

I've forget the way frets make me lose all worry
I can hold her in such a way that makes a meaningful chord
Finding balance in her scales
And knowing harmony

The shape of her body
The sound of love and loss
A song I have to sing
And I'll know peace

Maybe life is just music
But I play
And I'll play
I am happy that you found happiness with someone else


I just wish that I could have been the one that found it first.
Caught in trap, nowhere to hide.
In the depths where the demons hide.

You know right just as well wrong.
You justify your being wrong.

Haze filled mind with one priority.
Start to fall to pieces when you lose your inventory.

The car was pawned I hope he will do delivery.
He rings the front door and I run as quick as I can towards the enemy.

You give the money, he gives you product.
You can't take another second feeling this chaotic.

Narcotics generate the psychotic, and idiotic.
The low creates the demonic.

Why can't you just use logic.
Start a new life which isn't episodic.

Make it one that breaks the chains.
Finally find your true self and heal the strains caused by past pains.
And with no other choice but to give up the reins.

Tread lightly against the brush.
As all it takes is just one more rush.
 Mar 2016 Jen Grimes
Mike Essig
Doesn't matter
if your eyes
are brown,
hazel or green;

they remain
pellucid pools
into which
I want to dive;

living
possibilities
I yearn
to explore;

mysteries
only I can
illuminate.

Allow me
to try.
   ~mce
rp
 Mar 2016 Jen Grimes
Mike Essig
These are merely instances.* Wallace Stevens

Pick random points and place together. Pattern.
This map expands beyond its margins.
Vines of hysteria cover all. Swallowing.
The shell shock of the normal. Mind shrapnel.
Clocks kept in closet. Time out of mind.
Learning the algebra of flesh balances all.
These words torn from silence. Moral surgery.
Endless intimate details bore to the bone.
Pointless nostalgia for the forgotten.
Science of the lambs. Send up a woman.
The futile sexuality of questions. Will she?
Conjunction junction has lost its function.
You are the poet. What did you make of this?
Roll the dice twice. Call that meaning.
What a long strange text it has been.

  ~mce
 Mar 2016 Jen Grimes
Sia Jane
We’re looking into each other’s eyes;
it’s 4am.
We’re sat in a hospital room, I’m reciting your favourite verse.
You’re ragged and stitched together;
I just wish it was from being loved.
I just wish my love could make you Real.

I knew from day one, no one and no thing,
not even love, could take you away and finally
set your soul free.

So
I gave you all of me.

It wasn’t hard to give away.
Within moments of witnessing your smile; the one
held in your eyes widening your stare,
you crushed through my ribs with warmth and love,
held my heart in your hand, promising no matter
the distance and land between us, my heart would remain
safe – beneath your bruised chest.

Tonight, I’m alone.
It’s been 17 days since I last saw you.
I’m in the park where we always walked,
where our love was made tangible by etchings in wood.
The bark now crumbles
and the decay mirrors the gradual corrosion
of what was once, and will
never be, again.

© Sia Jane
Incredibly honoured to be daily poem.
I've had such encouragement from all of you here, and I am forever grateful.
Without too much self deprecation, I deserve this spot no more than many of you other great writers out there.
You inspire me daily too <3
Much love and light always, Sia <3


Re-working old writes with some new ideas <3
 Mar 2016 Jen Grimes
nivek
freedom
 Mar 2016 Jen Grimes
nivek
freedom can be bare feet
or naked
or laughter
freedom can be poetry
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