Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2011 · 568
It would seem
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
This young love
This winter dream
It would seem I am the luckiest man
Alive.
I hesitate to say the words
That sit safely nestled,
nursed and budding
Inside me
The words that speak of love and loving. You see I am falling
Scratch that,
Have fallen,
Am smitten
And calling
Your name
Alongside the name of love.
I love you
I am in love with you.
I am loving
So much love
For you.
This growing colour inside my heart
Is a picture
Still painting
Of you.
A masterpiece in the making.
A priceless piece of beauty tied by
An endless string of dreams.
This surreal happiness.
Nothing is as it seems.
I check myself hourly
With a pinch
To ensure I'm not dreaming
And that this
Extraordinary feeling Is real.
Upside down,
You've turned my frown
Into a smile
And I would walk
Infinite miles
To return
The love
You
Spill inside me.
Jul 2011 · 664
Falling into
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
You stir a dormant bed of leaves inside me
And in your youthful breeze
They dance
a lovestruck storm
In my heart.
I skip through
The street
All smiles
And singing.
I'm swinging
On clouds
And falling carefree
Into the warm chasm
Of your soul.
All fear departs
Free falling
I wait for the soft pillowed thud
Of heart on heart.
Dancing through the street
Your voice
The rhythm that moves
My feet
The way you look at me
The melody.
Looking up
And falling down
Be warned I'm falling
Into you
Jul 2011 · 544
Running deep
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
These feelings
Run river deep
Channeling through me
This feeling of falling
And knowing
That the impact of landing
Could not possibly compare
To the faith I have in you.
You've taken my heart
Which was Surrounded by a 12ft wall
And climbed despite your fear
To be near
To be by my side
You cracked open the vault
And are nestled
So warmly welcome inside.
You found behind the walls
My heart
Locked in a cage
And brought with you
The universal key
You have unlocked me.
With this freedom
Comes love
And with this love
Comes a smile
That stretches
A mile
Beneath my skin.
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
Until now
I had felt a sense
Of alone
Free roam
Taking over me.
Now,
I see,
Differently.
I am not one.
Rather many
And this single entity
Is plenty.
I am love.
For all my errors made
I am my own undoing
My own repair.
For every solo step taken
I dance for all.
For every crouched and howling boy,
Small,
I am tall,
An echo,
Resounding.
There is strength here
In this solidarity.
We, love, are one.
Together as we are alone.
Jul 2011 · 585
Exposed
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
Tracing patterns
Breaking habits
Pulling white
Rabbits
Out of tall hats
Lined by tall lies.
Lacey disguise
Covered eyes
Still peeking
Seeking
To see without feeling.
To run before walk
To lip closed talk
fill the room with secrets
Exposed.
Jul 2011 · 454
Four seasons changing
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
No song I could sing
No whispers in your ear
Could ever
Amount to the volume
Of language I want
To dance for you.

In me
You lit a fire
That burned through
The stagnate black
And sparked my desire.

I am pyre,
Burning,
An effigy
Charring
In cheers’
to love
and loving.

I am ***** ash
And floating
No more devoting
Naked flame to
This blaze
That burned
For you.

Through
Hands...
Jul 2011 · 742
Sitting knees crossed
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
I got everything I need
Right here
All around me
Like a shadow
To my body
A paper trail
Free flowing
Behind me
S’all free
Incredibly
Near
And never far.
Sitting on the edge of my tongue
Feel it in my fingertips
Light slips between
The layers of everything
I need
Sitting
Knees crossed
Beside me.
Jul 2011 · 628
Listlessly listing
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
Something sits
Unstirred
Inside me
Something
Dark and resting
Something
Stark and waiting
Bated
Listlessly
Listing
A ship unbalanced
A stone upturned
A lover spurned
A nightmare earned.

There is silence
Screaming
Tongue tied
From the place
Where my throat meets
My clavicle.
That puddle in the skin
Beneath which
My voice
Spins
Out of control
Whole
And bidding,
Hidden.
Jul 2011 · 504
From one hollow
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
With this pain
Comes the dull roar
Of rain
Within
The already drowning
Chambers of my heart.
Dryness depart
And all that’s left
Are stale
Puddles
Of discontent
Better left
Drying.
Trying
Crying
Denying
The slow seeping
Scars
That tunnel deep
And creep from one hollow
To another.
Jul 2011 · 677
fuck knows why
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
One foot
In front
Of the other.
Onwards and upwards
Eyes front.

Quiet tears
Pool within
Heels digging in
I will not cry
I cannot cry
I shall not cry
**** knows why

I am swaying on
The fringe
Between
Falling and fallen

crawling

Slowly slowly
Duck n weave
Heart on sleeve

Hiding behind corners
Eyes down.
Tight frown
Eyebrow furrow
I am the badger
Burrowed
The ostrich
With his head
Planted
Quietly
In the ground.

I am sound
And sounding
Calling
Crying
Trying
So very hard
To just
Keep on Keeping on.
Jul 2011 · 596
A whisper
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
I sit within myself loosely
Like crumpled sheets
Waiting to be made
A song laid out
Semi quaver (dis)chord
Waiting to be played
A whisper
Caught between
Tongue and lip
I am whiskey
Sipped
Then spilled
Time killed
I am paused
Mid flight
A Pheonix
Rising
Covered in ash
Jul 2011 · 576
Undoing
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
There are no words to fill the void between being and becoming.
Trembling skin humming.
Heartbeat drumming.
Stories burn deep
Beneath my skin.
Flattened out layers of panic.
Manic.
I am distress
Rip torn
Heart worn
Tears wet with fears
sawn
From old salt eye
To face
Disgrace.

This being Is my undoing.
Jul 2011 · 761
cross eyed
Jacqe Booth Jul 2011
The brink of madness
Follows at my feet
Like a shadow taunting
Like a whisper haunting.
A slip of darkness nipping
At my heel.
Urging me to feel
Too much.
Pressing me
Too touch
The beyond
Face first
Cross eyed
One eye on the future
One eye in the past.
Fall in
Fall out
To jump
Blind luck
Into an empty view
In lieu of you

You are me
But you cant see
For the madness
Barking mad
At your heel.
Mar 2011 · 582
silently igniting
Jacqe Booth Mar 2011
Loneliness

Made himself comfortable in my heart

He took up a chair

Set it backwards

And swung a leg over

With an inaudible sigh



Sat on down

Settled in,

Right beside

The torn edges

And split seams



Started

Picking

Tearing

Scratching off

Strips

Of my damage

Of my out of control.



He smokes and smolders

Like a haystack

Silently igniting



Turns pebbles into boulders

That sink me

Deeper

Tighter

Slighter

Into myself

Until my chest

Explodes

And strips of loss

Scatter at my bare feet



Him,

The lonely man

With the loud voice

And vacant

Laugh.

He can fill a room

With his technicolour coats and masks

And fade the brightest star

With his undying pallor

That is sewn just beneath his skin.



He is the crafty artful dodger

Of bullets to the heart

Ducks and weaves

And falls away

Down the dark

Alley ways

Of this damaged

urbanized

Over developed

Being.



Lonley man.

Pulled up a chair

And made himself at home

In my heart.
Mar 2011 · 555
silently igniting
Jacqe Booth Mar 2011
Loneliness

Made himself comfortable in my heart

He took up a chair

Set it backwards

And swung a leg over

With an inaudible sigh



Sat on down

Settled in,

Right beside

The torn edges

And split seams



Started

Picking

Tearing

Scratching off

Strips

Of my damage

Of my out of control.



He smokes and smolders

Like a haystack

Silently igniting



Turns pebbles into boulders

That sink me

Deeper

Tighter

Slighter

Into myself

Until my chest

Explodes

And strips of loss

Scatter at my bare feet



Him,

The lonely man

With the loud voice

And vacant

Laugh.

He can fill a room

With his technicolour coats and masks

And fade the brightest star

With his undying pallor

That is sewn just beneath his skin.



He is the crafty artful dodger

Of bullets to the heart

Ducks and weaves

And falls away

Down the dark

Alley ways

Of this damaged

urbanized

Over developed

Being.



Lonley man.

Pulled up a chair

And made himself at home

In my heart.
Mar 2011 · 852
crosseyed
Jacqe Booth Mar 2011
The brink of madness
Follows at my feet
Like a shadow taunting
Like a whisper haunting.
A slip of darkness nipping
At my heel.
Urging me to feel
Too much.
Pressing me
Too touch
The beyond
Face first
Cross eyed
One eye on the future
One eye in the past.
Fall in
Fall out
To jump
Blind luck
Into an empty view
In lieu of you

You are me
But you cant see
For the madness
Barking mad
At your heel.
Mar 2011 · 585
Undoing
Jacqe Booth Mar 2011
There are no words to fill the void between being and becoming.
Trembling skin humming.
Heartbeat drumming.
Stories burn deep
Beneath my skin.
Flattened out layers of panic.
Manic.
I am distress
Rip torn
Heart worn
Tears wet with fears
sawn
From old salt eye
To face
Disgrace.

This being Is my undoing.
Dec 2010 · 991
this is not the first time.
Jacqe Booth Dec 2010
Unrest sits inside of me. Scratch that. Unrest riots inside of me.
Tonight I knelt face down in a shower hotter than a Sydney inner city summer day. My skin burned. I hate water. I hate heat. In as much I particularly hate hot water. It intimidates me and steals my breath from fear and a terrifying blaze in my lungs. I often dream nightmarish of drowning in an ocean deep with blood red boiling water.

Still. I figured I could burn away this cold feeling that freezes me from my heart to my skin. If this were frostbite I would be a darker pitch of black. Head to toe. Inside out. Charred flesh and bone, sewn over a fevered mind.

I knelt on the pads of my shins, feet flat out behind me, knees scratching the tub, chest heaving with my hands clasped desperately behind my head pushing down. **** up, face down, no grace in this morbid search for self comfort. Trying so hard to become undone. My forehead rested in searing water raining down; that puddled hot and ***** beneath at my mouth. I prayed for tears. I ached to open up. One bleeding stitch at a time. To bleed tears of salt water amongst the fresh. Just to myself. For me if not for anybody else. Alone. Uninhibited. A quiet fury unleashed.

I searched for my voice and willed it to cry out. Urged it to break open and spill, a mess of confusion could at least be cleaned up. Without that mess I was still just a disaster waiting to happen.

I answered myself with silence. The only noise I could make was a low, guttural, throaty whine. The sound murmured in the water, muffled. Wasted. Washed away. Just air and water. Leaving. Draining. Just. Gone.
Salt burnt in my throat. More heat. Tears stung at the back off my eyes so I opened them and let the water in so as to coax the water out.
Nothing. Nothing but heat and emptiness.

Scratch that. This is not emptiness. I know emptiness well. I remember the echo of nothing. I remember non existence and its dumb witted mercy. I recall the dull anesthetised blanket of apathy.

This. Is. Feeling. This is being full and riotous. This is toxic and seething.
Appendicitis yet burst.

Even a toxic spill can be cleared, a burnt forest regrown. Degenerative. I feel like I am both sinking and replete at once. Both burning and washed out. Scarlet bright and discoloured. Alive and exhausted.
I am a vacuum through which no sound can travel. Waves of compression travelling through matter. From particle to particle I travel silenced, with no substance through which to reach a listener.

I am not listening.
I am unsound.
Unrest and riotous.

Even as I write this
My face burns.
My body aches and quivers and my stomach turns over and over and over until I stand and reach for my tobacco and roll to smoke to abate this ache that is eating me.

Alive.

I am a thousand words unsaid.
Five thousand tears yet spilled.
Words fall from my fingertips
But not from my lips.

I am the quiet in the storm.
Stilled, Stalled, Appalled by what can only come next.

This skin. Of mine. Is prickly and If I could just step out of it, for the sake of feeling settled, I would. I would stretch and unwind my mind then slowly furl back into myself, ironed out and calmed. Fresh stitches, less itches and the sense of having been free. From me.

Funnily enough, although I’m not really laughing, when the tears do come, when they bite at the corners of my eyes until I feel like my face is about to tear apart, a mess of salt and flesh, The darkness reaches out a cold and unforgiving hand and pushes down. Until the brackish brine reaches back into my throat, slides into my stomach, dragging with it that fleeting chance of reprieve. Then comes the sick. Then comes the smoke. Then comes the still and ever threatening silence.

I am a stranger to myself.
And this is not the first time.
Jacqe Booth Nov 2010
Sitting, restless

In this changeling

Sensation

Of freshness and renewal.

Running

Rat on a wheel.

Each passing day

A different way

Of feeling,

An altered state of mind.

Seeking

To find

A man within the boy.

Hoping to see

The real me.

Alive and kicking.

Hot flushed, this post determined puberty

And the desperate need to feel.

An urgent angst to Be.

Short fuse and temper flare.

I’m not really there

Yet still somehow

Everywhere and

Everything;

Else breathing.

Dysmorphic chest

Heaving

Exigency

In this

Juncture

Soul puncture,

And bloodied bandaids

Cast off

My heart

Once worn on my sleeve.

I am finger skin,

Flesh and nail

Torn

And jagged edges

Peeling.

Perplexity kneeling,

I am deeply lost inside of me.

Begging to be found.

Compund; unbound.

They say that beggars can’t be choosers

Only losers left to dreaming.

They also say

That I may be a dreamer

But I’m not the only one.

I will come undone in this undoing.

Eschewing

A life lived unalive.

Slow unravel

To once again

Begin

To belong in this

Skin

Stitched bleeding riches

To my bare and brittle bone  

He is not alone

I feel him

Running

Waiting

Sating disquietude

With an attitude

Unshackled

He is not running

Rather feet flying

A rat inside

A wheel.
Nov 2010 · 554
changeling
Jacqe Booth Nov 2010
Rising

Like a warm loaf

On a slowly turning winters eve.

Sitting. Still. Window sill. Warm sun.

It has begun.

Taking leave

From my

Seated place

Alongside this scenic, arduous

Road.

Kicking out

My legs.

Muscle stretch and yawn.

I am changeling,

Unsteady and unsure

On eager feet.

I am heartbeat. Beating.

I am jarred door.

Unhinged and

Swinging in the spring breeze.

Reading this book

As I write each page.

Dog eared and laughing.

Crushed spine and crying.

I am chapters unfolding

Burnt and bleeding pages.

Edges tested by time.

I am unrest

Settling into itself.

Dust on a shelf

Fanned off by the

Zephyr

Stirring within.

The west wind

Blowing in,

Releasing me.



So this is what it feels like to be free.



So this is life calling me.



And so I rise.

The Pheonix

In the freshness of youth.

Through the cycle of years.



I am reborn and

Being.
Jacqe Booth Oct 2010
I am lying on my back
On a quilted sea
Of green and blue.
My eyes are closed
And I can see me
Clearly in my minds eye
A swagger in my step,
A boy, rising,
Full stride.
I am raw hide and
Warm pelt.
My skin is bare and I can feel
The fur of a snail trail
Beneath my clasped hands
Upon my belly.
I can smell musk in the air
A manliness mixed
With the fragrant vulnerability
Of nakedness.
My eyes are closed
And I don’t want to open them.
My heart is burgeoning
My soul is climbing
Evolving
I am him.
Becoming,
Being,
And safely rocking
on this sea of sweat and dreams spilt.
With my eyes closed.

Breathing in,
Slowly, calmly,
For I can feel tears already forming beneath closed lids,
I open my eyes
And cast a shadowed gaze
Downwards
And along the lines of what I had been watching
Within my minds eye.
I cannot lie,
Here as I type,
I remember that sinking feeling
As if I am sinking again now,
I don’t know how
to describe
That ***** feeling
Of being stuck inside this skin
This skin that lies
This skin that hides
What is buried deep within me.
That which belongs to me,
That which is mine.
That which has always been and always will be
Me.
And I cried.
My heart surged,
it plunged into a scared and hurting blackness.
And I felt myself falling
Into misery
I looked down on the body
That was lying
On a quilted blue and black see
And saw me
For what I truly am
In the flesh.
In those moments
I wish I could live my every day
Eyes closed
And breathing in that which I see inside me
I wish I could bury my head inside my heart
And depart from the flesh.
Hide from this shell
This private hell
That wears itself outside of me.

Eyes open I see me for who I am
And I cry
And I want only
Again
For eyes closed.
Indisposed,
Sickened.


I am fit with eyes closed
And all I can see
Is the man inside me.
Oct 2010 · 619
small boy squatting
Jacqe Booth Oct 2010
In the shower
When I am alone
With the water
And only me.
I should be standing tall
But instead I find a tiny boy
Crouched
And crying tears
that sting hotter than
The water meant to be cleaning
Off the salt
Of a turbulent
Tossing sea.

I find a shadow of my daily self
A weak and lonesome man
Who cannot stand
To hold his chin high
A man who cannot stand
To smile bright
A lost boy
Crying
In the cubicle
His confidence
Missing
His course listing
Upon this cruel and violent sea.

This is me,
This lying man
Who smiles by day
And cries by night
This is me
This constant fight
To love myself
And love thy neighbour.

Small boy
Squatting.
Disgust
Rotting him
from stern to bow.
He doesn’t know how
To stem the tears
Release the fears
As if they were hounds
And could chase away
The badness.

This sadness
Overwhelms
And burning tears
scratch his face.
He is disgrace
Released,
Displaced,
Alone.
Oct 2010 · 564
I don't know why.
Jacqe Booth Oct 2010
I love you
Do you know that…
Cause you should.
I love you like a pen knife loves wood.
I love you like the moon loves the tide.
You are hemmed inside
Like the silk lining of a finely tailored coat.
You float my boat;
The bridge to my moat.
I could rhyme of you until
Dead poets fell from the sky
I don’t know why
I feel this way
Lets just say
That some things are meant to be
And that I see
In us
A million days,
A Thousand ways
A spring dusk haze
Of Beauty in Love
And Happiness in
Togetherness
Foreverness.
You n Me
Sailing a passionate sea
In a boat built for two.
I love you.
Sep 2010 · 589
Love Set Match
Jacqe Booth Sep 2010
I walked right on into your life,
Stormed right on in through the closed and creaking doors,
Knocked down the walls
Wearing come **** me boots
And a packer
Unpacked and willing
Smiling like I’d already swallowed the canary
I put it out there you know
To meet you
To have you meet me
To meet my maker
My Love Set Match
I volleyed the ball straight
Into the wanting
Court of your heart
And waited
Breath bated
For your solid, resounding return.
I stole inside you while you slept
Unstitched your skin
Climbed in and
Sewed myself deep and everlasting
inside.
I spoke softly to your shadow
Through your dreams
Until it grasped my hand
And now, like glue, I am stuck to you.
I smeared my love
Across your chest
With wet kisses
And a love bequeathed by lust.
I handed you my trust
And watched as you unwrapped it
And placed it lovingly within your own.
I tore down my walls to get to you
I walked through fiery insecurity
And swam through fear infested waters
I battled demons
And won
I lost my voice
And sung
Of two souls
Found
Two hearts bound
And a love all enduring connected.
Sep 2010 · 659
rouge de sang
Jacqe Booth Sep 2010
Suffocating in this state of mind

Like a grain of soil

On the wall of a

perpetually filling

Bottomless pit.

All stale

and collapsing mud.



I can’t breathe

And it is dark in here

In this silence

In this wet and stifling

***** blanket

Of thin smiles

That veil

filth and dirt.



Gritty, I can taste discontent

( restlessness stirred, agitated, weeping)

Like a thorn in the side

Of this torn and invisibly stitched mouth.

My fingers bleed

And doubt seeds

Vicious weeds inside

An already

sick and nauseated mind.



There is hurt in here

And pain

And the bittersweet unspoken

refrain

Of one lost in their

Own directionless

Domain.



These walls I built, alone.

That stare back careless

And greet me daily with their

Cold embrace.



In this darkness, alone,

I, us, we,

cry.

Small children,

Whimpering in this feeling

of self chafed friction.

Whining,

each whine followed by

Gutteral, viscous, primal mutterings

These madman

Me, myself and i

Locked in a tunnel

Without light

It is cold and we want so badly

To relight the fire



I

claw at the fortification

I have erected

Around myself

Then bleed some more

Until the walls in front of me turn from

la mort noire to

rouge de sang



Sitting here

In this

Abyss.

Blinded by the inability to see

The incapacity to feel

Anything but the feeling of failure.

This powerlessness to heal,

All sealed up and drowning

in my private pool of mud.



Still it is dark in here,

And wet,

And bloodied

And brooding.

The cold walls are soothing

And the veil still acts

To conceal

The extent of filth

Scourging up the walls

Of this inaudible and bidding cave.
Sep 2010 · 753
Dirty clean
Jacqe Booth Sep 2010
***** clean
Those pieces unseen
Unsaid
Pretty head
On a misfit body born
Into a (purely)
Miscreant soul
Torn seams
And jagged edges
That spill
Fluid
Love drunk
All steam
And moist expression
From the lens
Onto slippery
Retro
Queerly hetero
Tiles
All the while
A message sent
Through the eye of a
Ready and wanting beholder
Bent and already
So eagerly
Tainted
Face painted
A boy with a joker smile
Drawn and smear
Dipped from
Lip to ear
From frown to crown
He has feelings
To feast on
Thoughts
Fit for a king.
Those passions
That sit within
Before them
Inside him
Unhinged
He is wet through and waiting.
Dried out and wanting.
Flaunting
Daunting.
As timid as he is bold
Underneath
The cold shower
Of expression refrained
Still bidding.


Aug 2010 · 415
So carefully placed.
Jacqe Booth Aug 2010
You are my favourite type of conversation
The kind of relaxation
that rests easy like a rocking chair,
slippers and a roll your own cigarette
within my soul.
Your smile makes me whole
And I could drown in the beauty that is
your laughter.
I would quest after you if ever you felt lost.
I cry at the thought of our paths having never crossed;
at the idea that I had would have to live forever
With the pain
of not knowing your name,
Not seeing your face,
Not feeling your tender embrace,
Or the warmth of your heart lapping
Pooling
Pulling
The strings inside
my own.
Already,
together,
we have grown,
seed sewn,
Emerged,
Converged,
Two lovers with so much love to give.
So much time to live;
Embraced,
Divine intervention
So carefully placed
before us.
Aug 2010 · 684
More arse than class
Jacqe Booth Aug 2010
To this love that speaks so loudly
I raise my glass
(more **** than class, a heady brew of beer and wine)
And toast to loving freely
Living ideally
And making these rich and teeming
dreams come true.
I say I love you
And know that is the easy part.
I hand you my heart
And breathe in
as invisible tears
Depart my eyes
And my soul tries
So desperately
To be brave
And stave off the fear
Of failure.
Jacqe Booth Aug 2010
Tiny little parcel
All wrapped up and waiting to be
Undone.
Sitting quietly
Under the shade of
Resentful
Ambiguity.
Cautious scarred and wry
(smiling)
insecurity
See me sitting calmly
assembled
All parceled up and wanting
Waiting
To be unpicked

Carefully
Hand stitched
Calling softly (upon deaf ears)
To be untied
To see what lies
Beneath each fettered
Layer.
Role player
This small and softly spoken
Box
Of being
Seeing nothing
Feeling everything
With wary
(doleful)
Soulful eyes.
(closed)
Dreaming of being
(open)
I am token
Bundle
(******)
a pile of sticks
untamed.
Paused upon the ground
unsound
Aspiring to to be burned
In order to
(feel)
spurned.
This collated stack
Of feelings lost to the numb of
Being wrapped up and tied to the self.

A book full of stories
Unnamed.
Pages upon pages
Loose words
Collected
Piled and falling
Upon a dusty
Neglected shelf
Too much of the self
Not enough of the other.

Resting.
Worn out
Dog eared
Belayed by fear.

Waiting
Wasting
Hasting
to be undone.
To be unknotted
Frayed
Displayed
Vast volume
Unspoken betray.

Hold fast
This minute
Package
Lying restless
At your feet.
Aug 2010 · 466
This is only for today
Jacqe Booth Aug 2010
Cold heart
all warmth depart
as distance takes its hold.
Crossed arms, knee fold .
You can't;
I can't,
See me for these walls.
You can't;
I can't,
Hear me for this noise.
Static buzz between us,
void and unforgiving.
In sadness i sit alone.
In separation we walk backwards; together.
Am i disappearing?
A ghost with limpid tears
and teknicolour fears
of loss and self loathing.
This is only for today,
this grief and ever fading.
Tomorrow
time will have passed
and warmth back in shall
seep.
Aug 2010 · 815
brushed finger tips
Jacqe Booth Aug 2010
No more
In love
No more fallen
Rather falling
We are brushed finger tips
Waving goodbye
Choked,
Air stuck
Tight lipped
I feel sick
And tired
Raw flesh
And cut deep
Straight through
To already
Brittle and broken
Bone.
Alone
And tripping
Over the
Falling sky.
Red eyes
Disguise
Roll the dice
Snake eyes
And the next roll
Is in your hands.
Aug 2010 · 635
It feels like i'm falling
Jacqe Booth Aug 2010
It feels like I’m falling
When really I’m flying
which is why
my feet don’t feel like they’re touching the ground
(once lost, now found, I am soaring homeward bound)
Feels like I’m crying
When really I’m laughing
these tears
that fall crystalline clear from once
muddied dark and dying eyes
are from smiling all the time.
Early mornings and a reason to rise.
Small kisses, deep sighs,
Love denying conviction
A heart soul lust
triptych addiction
I’m drowning already
and yet only half submerged
Destiny converged
To bring time ever alluring into my open
Wanting, waiting palm.
You bring a calm to my daze
A serenity to the inner madness
That chews and claws within
You fill the void that had become my universe
Each dwelling sadness you reverse
With your tender touch
And deep blue cave water eyes.
I cannot deny
The passion you inspire
I cannot ignore the flame you ignite
So stow my fright
And onward sail
Ballast full
Heart pull
And happiness tugging
Serendipitous
At the blood red stitches
of my patched and tough tender
worn, now swelling heart.
Jacqe Booth Aug 2010
So i drew a pile of words onto the page
and in a rage i covered them in black lines and criss crosses until a
small sad scribbly sailing ship appeared upon the scarred bark white sheets;
mooring, sinking, drinking in the brine
and choking on weeds that drift
aimlessly atop a deep engulfing sea.
Dying boat submerging to be free
Lonesome boat singing a fading melody,
Water cleans.
Moonlight streams.
Seafolk dream
and the ocean breathes in a calm that swells
into a seething, heaving storm within a sea of scribbled words
lines blurred
bone dry
sun starched
my mouth is parched
and words form salted pearls upon my lip.
Jun 2010 · 622
She fingers at my sex
Jacqe Booth Jun 2010
She fingers at my ***
and plays me like a mandolin
Long notes
strings pulled
All I can hear is blood rush through my brain
Insane
All this ******* and a smile
Stretched from ear to ear.
She says I am awesome sauce
If I’m the sauce she must be the pasta
Faster and faster
We **** until chords fall
Freely from our throats.
High notes
Like music to my ears.
All fears lost when I look into her
Deep brown eyes
I cannot disguise
My lust
There is trust
In this madness
Like falling down a rabbit hole
Looking for cake to eat
And magic potions to drink
I could sink into her completely
I could drown in her whole
She takes the sadness from my soul
and replaces it with the simple joys
of happiness and like meeting like.
Jun 2010 · 671
You, yes, you.
Jacqe Booth Jun 2010
You… yes you.
(You know who I’m talking about)
I’m looking at you and you’re not even here

(You’re In my head and I don’t plan on letting you out)

{You’re in my heart and settling in}

(warm skin, I’ll keep you warm when all warmth departs)

It’s nice and cosy in here… you may as well take off all your clothes.
I suppose that’s a little bit forward;
Then again
Why would step backward when the future looks so bright?

With that crazy
Sexed up gaze you get in your
Café latte
Chocolate-brown eyes.
I have it locked inside my head
I’m holding it trapped;
A fortuitous hostage,
Within the once cold steel bars of my heart
It’s not so cold in there anymore
With your smile
Warming me from the core.

(I want more and more and more).

Does that make me needy?
Greedy?
A glutton for your lust?
A safe keeper for your trust?

Take my hand and walk a while
We can smile
For every mile
We tread together
Like nautical rope
I will tether you to your happiness.
I will bind you to your joy.

I could write of you until I ran out of keys
Until I ran out of pen and paper
Until the light leaves the sky
I cannot deny
The infatuation
That is stalking my mind.

Your voice
With its rich and sultry depths
Your music
With it’s unkempt passion
Girls like you
With your unquestionably
Infectious desire
Will never go out of fashion.

From now on when I think of awesomeness
I’ll always think of you.
From now on when I think of blood rush
Passion and lust
I will inevitably think of you
With that crazy
**** me baby
Look in your eyes.
Jun 2010 · 700
Have i told you lately?
Jacqe Booth Jun 2010
You’re awesome like
Strawberry chupa chups and
The taste of **** in my mouth.
You’re fully sick like a hot ride
And long nights spent smiling
*******
Laughing
Touching
Feeling
The fun we have is healing
And makes tomorrow feel like it’s
Miles away.
Have I told you lately that you’re
A *****?
May 2010 · 4.9k
Snake eyes
Jacqe Booth May 2010
No more
In love
No more fallen
Rather falling
We are brushed finger tips
Waving goodbye
Choked,
Air stuck
Tight lipped
I feel sick
And tired
Raw flesh
And cut deep
Straight through
To already
Brittle and broken
Bone.
Alone
And tripping
Over the
Falling sky.
Red eyes
Disguise
Roll the dice
Snake eyes
And the next roll
Is in your hands.
May 2010 · 856
Salted pearls upon my lip
Jacqe Booth May 2010
So i drew a pile of words onto the page
and in a rage i covered them in black lines and criss crosses until a
small sad scribbly sailing ship appeared upon my page;
mooring, sinking, drinking in the brine
and choking on weeds that drift
aimlessly atop a deep engulfing sea.
Dying boat submerging to be free
Lonesome boat singing a fading melody,
Water cleans.
Moonlight streams.
Seafolk dream
and the ocean breathes in a calm that swells
into a seething, heaving storm within a sea of scribbled words
lines blurred
bone dry
sun starched
my mouth is parched
and words form salted pearls upon my lip.
Mar 2010 · 600
Recollect
Jacqe Booth Mar 2010
It’s funny
Sitting here
Thinking back
To the times
She refers to
As
Then.

How I used to be,
The person I was
Before it was all
Unwritten.

Small threads
Picked and worn,
Undone.

She’s not the only one
Who remembers the small me
That always
Smiled for the camera.
Climbing trees,
Not afraid to fall.
She speaks
as if it were yesterday.

One eye in the past
One eye on the future
I am cross eyed
Short sight obscures
My view.

Recollect
And memories
Requiem dreams.
That which goes unseen
Time passes
And still I close my eyes
And remember
As if it were a life time ago.
Mar 2010 · 683
susurrus
Jacqe Booth Mar 2010
Sitting, scribing
One eye out my window
One eye on the screen
Sounds, unseen
I can hear a quiet world
Disrupted.

I hear a murmur
restless,
Susurrus
A stream of
Shrieks and whispers

It’s night out there,
False light in here
My open window
A beacon bright
Against the pitch black
Sky.

Together,
The night and I,
We cry and laugh
Away our fears
Like wild wolves
Baying at the
warm heart
of the moon.
Mar 2010 · 586
Stygian
Jacqe Booth Mar 2010
Stygian I know these tunnelswell,been here since the beginning.Shadows dancing;beckoning withsharp biting rocks for fingers.Diamonds embedded that pierce like nails.Slow reckoningshrouded by shallow lightbouncing off scratched and bleedingwalls.This path that never endswith its dark and ever darkening hallows.No words to break the quiet.No riot to break down the walls.No squall to set the sailsand coughing, sighing, dyinglights to lead the way.
Feb 2010 · 617
bite down till it bleeds
Jacqe Booth Feb 2010
Self censored
I bite my own tongue
Till it bleeds
And small seeds
Of doubt and worry
Scurry
From my throat
Down down down
To my stomach.
Can’t breathe for the
Stifling
Can’t speak for the thoughts
Rifling through my heart
Tearing apart the layersI have sewn.
Ripping at seams
And spilling through the gaps
Fears planted
Enchanted
All I can do is gag.
Feb 2010 · 527
From the outside in
Jacqe Booth Feb 2010
Unplug meI'm too youngtoo oldtoo coldto stoke the fire.Wake me upfrom this requiem, midnight thrashinggag and scream.Closed eyes and open memories. Stitch me up i am tornasunder.A folded paperripped, shredded andseparating with the wind.Do you hear the thunder?Wet tear dropsraining, pouring, falling,blurring the lines betweenreal and illusionLeaving;pull me home,bring me closeand tightinto the world.Your gaze for a blanketin the breeze of discontentchill spentand warming from the outside in.
Feb 2010 · 649
Some say
Jacqe Booth Feb 2010
Some say he is wise
Some say simply hardened
A wizened, numb,
Impermeable ball
Of love mislaid
Trust betrayed.
A web
Of gritty layers
Interweaved,
Deceived ,
His heart is
Sewn and patched
Small puncture holes
(gasping, weeping, bleeding)
This heart
Pre-stitched and worn.
He gives tokens
Of self
Bespoken
By the body,
Giving and taking
Loving and hating.

Some say he is hard
Some say **** being easy.
Feb 2010 · 1.6k
Die trying.
Jacqe Booth Feb 2010
Sitting here, thinking about death, about which death to choose, about which passing of time to write about. I am sweating, like, hold your breath or die sweat. It is hot here, but it isn't the temperature that is making my glands leak, it is the memories, it is the death grip that takes my heart when i remember, when i write about life leaving, silence stealing from the night.

Heroine. She's a tuff-tender ***** with soft sleepy skin, the daughter of Morpheus, who takes your breath and holds it inside you. Somniferous, She likes to sit alongside you while you die, she holds your hand and whispers in your ear, allaying fear and slowly she wraps her fingers around your lungs. So tired, of this world, of this life; you think, i'll just close my eyes, nothing new about being on the nod, nothing strange about this tiredness that follows a quick projectile puke in the gutter.
Let sleeping dogs lie.

Writing about Overdosing. It is a strange thing, a quick story, one minute your blinking, nodding, often murmuring, then asleep.

Lucky the dog who runs in a pack.
Lucky the man who walks with strangers by his side.
I don't remember much of what happened before i closed my eyes.

A shot, pin ***** relief, then, quickly/slowly/gone. It is night out, with a dark and steady sky, I am watching the stars through slitted eyes and loving my life, loving my wife; ******, how she makes my heart sing. I am glad to be far from withdrawing, i am happy to be in sin with my lovers, stainless steel turemo picks.
It is my first blast for the night and apparently my last.
There is no warning, no red flag that appears in my minds eye. Just silence and a world fading away. A heartbeat disappearing. Short shallow breath and a small niggling concern that soon will come the time when i am not high then...

I am going. I am gone. I have died.

The strangest thing about dying is not dying. The hardest thing about it all is waking up and realising you were finally gone, you were finally done with the rigmorale, the procedure, of living, of life. You had reached the ultimate goodbye. And now you are back. Still high but not high enough to be faced with the living. Narcan gives your lungs back, it breathes back into you what She stole away. Wanting more then ever to ***** but not wanting to puke on the paramedics lap. Fear of police and reprisal, anxiety soars high on the agenda of the recently revived. A trip the hospital, a free ride, then signing out early, i have shots to blast, a past to wipe out, a life to live or die trying.
Feb 2010 · 637
Little black dots
Jacqe Booth Feb 2010
It is in the a.m
And I am alive
I am breathing
(cigarette smoke)
awake and dreaming.
Writing, scheming words
And drawings pictures
In my mind.
Bleeding fears
Slowly,
ink stained
Onto the page.
Dark, crisp and early morning
There is no warning for the
Nightmares that wake me
Shake me
Take me from the
waist deep and pulling
From below.
Fears bestowed
Cryptic Stitches sewn
Little black dots
That stretch
Blood stained
Engrained
From his spirit to his soul.
They take him whole
And tear pieces
From each night
Fright followed
Closely by the respite of
Eyes open
Short breath
And a memory prone
To fading.
Feb 2010 · 557
Ash
Jacqe Booth Feb 2010
Ash
I should be writing,
but from where I’m sitting I can see the breeze through flicks of a pirate flag, shadow cast and bearing homeward bound in my window.
I can reach out and touch my tobacco,
feeling,
rolling,
pausing,
licking,
lighting,
smoking.
I am inhaling /exhaling
and only typing in between bursts of stillness, my mind lost and trailing through the room, **** n’ type, mumbling crazy talk under my breath as I scribe.
Slowly
I should be in my head, finding a nest,
a bed, of words and meaning
conscience streaming.
No focus when I can see the tree’s, peeks of bark and pied green
No inspiration beyond that which I can see with my eyes.
Ash, I am burned out like the smoke in my hand.
Feb 2010 · 709
and you are knot
Jacqe Booth Feb 2010
Tightrope
Walk between
The string,
And what is forgotten,
That pieces
Together
Time.

I am split
And you are knot.
Feb 2010 · 581
guide me
Jacqe Booth Feb 2010
like never before

an open door

and the sun
it shields:
i yield

and still the stairs are bare.

I will not
cannot
am afraid

and caged still
wings clipped

time slipped
casually
out the door.

Feet floored
small ship
moored
i am rotted rope
and frayed edges
braided knot
and fearsome
not
only bound and
endlessly
ebbing
with the flow.

Swelled tide
beside
this one man boat
built for two.

Who is the captain
and who is the
ocean
this motion
is sick
like the frigid sea
within me.

Where are we.
Guide me.
Slip inside me
take my helm
and anchor soon
lest i become one
with the weeds
of tomorrows
sorrow.
Feb 2010 · 506
so very tired
Jacqe Booth Feb 2010
Tired

[So very
*******
Tired]

Cant sleep
Fractured
De-railed.

I am pale
Looking
Feeling
Fading

I am wading
In my own
Muck and mire.
Too much fire
For a fish that needs
Motion/swell/ a tide
Deep sea.

I am too far within me
With no vision
Of the other side
I am alive
And breathing
But can’t bear
The weight
Of feeling.
Plagued
I am of
Nightmares
And broken
Sleep.
A one way street
Facing
The wrong
Direction.
I am sections
Of fractions
Of fragments
Of me.
[So very ******* tired]

release me.
Next page