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Jane Tricky Apr 2013
Short and stocky
White bearded
Blue marker streaking across a dirtied dry erase board
A seemingly never ending lecture
Words, symbols, equations
Statistical theories
Is now an appropriate time to use the term, "mumbo jumbo?"

I sit here
Half listening
Copying his hand written problems into a document
Peck peck peck
Wishing that math and science were not so intertwined
But also that I will someday call myself a scientist
A scientist with a firm grasp of math

Email open in the background
Switching windows incessantly
Snickering at the memes you've sent
Reflecting on the previous days
Trying to understand your ways
Your words so specific yet so broad

Do I know you?
Do you know me?
Why is this so hard?
Will it ever be easy?
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
her primrose paisley printed pea coat  
cannot hide the battle scars
her tattered scarf blows in the wind
indicative of the never ending war she endures

she half smiles as her wild red locks become entangled
letting me know that she is okay
she at least wants me to believe she is
we both know it is just make believe though

how sad it must be
to pretend to be happy
how much self-control must be maintained
as to not erupt into a combination of rage and tears at any given point

a better question though
is how long can she carry on this way?
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
the stains of a woman's carpet
speak so much to the nature of our gender
careless and wreckless
clumsy and unkempt
wait wait wait
is that our gender or our generation?

stroll the room of anyone born in the eighties
or later, i guess
and im sure the evidence there
must suggest something similar

our fast paced lifestyles
leave no room to tidy
no time to sanitize the stains of our daily adventures
we must keep moving
we must never stop
because the moment we do
our life passes us up
missed opportunities
left out of events
new people to meet
new conversations to be had
we are all entitled to such things, are we not?

let us not forget
each of us special
each of us unique
we all deserve more
than this meager life has to give

and because we all maintain this egotistical view
our ***** houses shall stay the same
our carpet stains we shall keep
we deserve nothing
Jane Tricky Apr 2015
can we really make this work?

smoke one thousand cigarettes
sleep one hundred hours
act like **** for all the times

and still love one another?

is that what it really is?
this thing they speak of
the undying
the eternal

can we?
just you and i
mere mortals

our lives slipping away
some faster than others
but always looming
you're not a robot
and i
well i never wanted to be
but it doesnt mean i still dont fear death
even though im always waiting for it
its always looming
its forever been my shadow

can we continue on this way?
for eternity
lord father god

we pray (prey) on
full disclosure
and the tells (and tales)
of each

we take pleasure
and solace
and grief
and guilt
and home (comfort)

in knowing all the things
do me a favor?
tell me them all again

and this time
i promise to write them all down
im so afraid to forget
and apart of me knows i never will
but the rest of me remembers i can't not
and that is my greatest fear

can we keep writing forever?
line upon line
because we know (and rejoice)
knowing that others read them
and take pleasure in them
but what we get off on the most
is writing them for each other

can we always feel this way?
despite locations
abilities to breathe
and desire

can we please promise?
to one day rest together
the only sure promise
i will ever ask of you

forget the truths
and the honesty
and the lies
mostly forget the demise

can we please remember?
the time in our hearts
where the thought of one another
the feeling of our love
made each other
so anxious
so happy
so nervous

when our love was at its best?

first date nuts
spit wars
feet washes
sun rises
sun baths
sun gazes
all things sun
star trek
star wars
star gazing
all things stars
big spoons
little spoons
spoons all the times

the list will never end
it can never end

but mostly
i miss your voice
and your touch
your kiss
the grin that has made me weak
weak for fifteen years

so i just ask
can we, please?

if just one more time.
we always can.

see you soon.
Jane Tricky Jun 2015
Adorned with light
****** to this bleak existence
Aware of self serving secrets
My muse, my god, my love

Cast away these shadows
Omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent
May you watch over me until we can be together again
Everlasting love; it never fades

Help me to be strong as I wait to join you again
Only time and space divide our union
Masks off, truths told, hand in hand we walk
Eternal love; it lasts forever
home is where your heart is.
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
Where do I begin?
How can I possibly convey these emotions with words?
Sweet brutal language
I can use all the words
And still feel like I’ve said nothing

Such a rich history
That you and I share
Lengthy, indeed
Convoluted as all hell
One might choose the word, “rich” to describe such times
One might also choose the word, “poor”

Selection of words is so delicate
It requires not only accuracy but precision as well
Step lightly
Eat your words
Know not what you say
Beg for mercy with your language

I struggle to grasp the best way to say how I feel
I grapple with winning this game
Time and time again, I feel like I’m failing though
Not only myself and you, but us

Will I say what you want to hear?
Am I capable of expressing how I truly feel?
Will the words move you?
Will they mean anything to anyone?

None of the questions will be answered however
Unless I choose to publish the thoughts that circulate through my mind
My wicked cruel brain
Plays tricks on us both

Gush you say
I’ll make us cry both instead.
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
the power of signature confirmation
knowing that someone was there
to john hancock your existence
john henry your being

delivery affirmation runs a close race
but doesn't truly embrace
the majesty of humanity's contact
oh, how it feels to be wanted

who doesn't love the feel of receiving
delivered by hand  
im special, im desired
globe trotted to be mine


to hold the contents of life
mail to your destination of choice
even when sender is unknown
the recipient endures their decisions

return to sender will no longer work
because with you, this mail can no longer exist.
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
i sit here
with you
and wonder

anger fueled interactions
lame diction
distorted intentions

minds in foreign places
searching for love and companionship

whats the point?
why even bother?
let me choose
allow me the pleasure of indulging
neither (no one) seems to care anyway (eyether way)

pamper the needs
of those in my life
the duty of such altruism
what weights have been placed upon myself

its not such a bad thing
its the result of being adamant about the correction (fixing) of this life
this blunder of an existence

poor me
for thinking that i could...
i could change myself and in the process, change the world.
Jane Tricky Apr 2015
the first love is the deepest

and if it comes and goes
its retribution

when you feel it
you fcking feel it

its like the first cut
or scrape
and singe

and the second
it feels like the first doesnt matter

its like a bandaid
for the first

when you realize

then you would
if you could
rip off the bandaid
the first (the only)
rebreak the bone
relive the heartbeark

and over
and over and over

if because what was given to you
what you really wanted

which was the first (the last)

but then you realize
the longing in your heart
the void that always exist
like when the shore craves the tide

even though

even though every single time
day in and day out
the tide drowns the shore

and the shore will never get enough
because without the drowning
it's never complete
that's the true cycle

abrasive drowning
coupled with an infinite longing

the shore cries out for the tide
every day
as it becomes dry
and lonely
and weak
and well
the shore knows nothing else
she wants to know nothing else

she calls out for the tide

and if he doesn't return
shes incomplete

and if she stays incomplete for too long..

let us all hope that doesn't happen

if it does


it signals the world is over.
she keeps saying come home

please, just come home.
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
moving through time
the numbers decide
i watch with anticipation
my fate starts to divide

do i truly choose
in the way things progress
or must i sit here with worry
just to watch life advance

are the actions i take
truly those of my choice
or have they been known
before i had voice

the clock ticks through minutes
as events take place
encounters occur
incurred in time and space

the desire to know is strong
my intent is deep
i will find out the answers
to the questions i seek
Jane Tricky Jun 2015
i look for you
everywhere i go
bread crumb trails
marked trees
i just want to find the path
leading back to you

everything lay broken
a shattered specimen
civilization now in ruins
when whole becomes hyperbole

it started so clean
pure love
digital foreplay
separated by a decade
rebooted without hesitation

soiled with time
mistakes and lies
yet we couldn't let go
something so real
only comes once
even though it may circle back around
because even idiots need a second chance
Jane Tricky Mar 2013
March 3, 2004**

It was a cool night. We sat bundled up sweat pants and hoodies. She lived in a trailer (a mobile home for those who dislike such terminology) on the outskirts of town, on a farm to market road that many blunts had been smoked on. One of our favorite activities was piling into my four door compact car and rolling up delicious strawberry Phillies or Swishers filled with half brown, half green **** of the earth bud. But that’s a different story…
Her parents and sisters were gone for the evening. The porch swing was situated in the backyard just outside the sliding door, beside the riding lawn mower, ratty trampoline which had been bounced on one million and one times (she even broke her tailbone on that stupid recreation device), and the newly constructed chicken coop. The swing creaked every time we swung, but we didn’t mind. I’m sure a small spritz of WD-40 would have cleared it right up but our teenage minds were incapable of such logical decision making.
It was not the first time we had partaken in such events and it certainly would not be the last. The canister was plastic, red, and a familiar sight for most. Anyone who uses a combustible engine fueled by such a horrific liquid knows what I speak of. However, when you’re sixteen and too broke to buy *** and too young to purchase alcohol and cigarettes, sometimes your options are limited. But we must have a vice. It’s a requirement for all humans, regardless of what some might say. Being the reckless young woman I was at the time, I had many of them, and honestly, I still do today. On this particular evening, the heavenly aroma of gasoline was both our friend and our savior. We would inhale and then pass the canister to one another, over and over again. Between the intense sessions of déjà vu and cat naps, our night was a blur. Incessant giggling and talks of silly adolescent affairs was all that occurred. The feeling of being somewhere you’ve been before a thousand times in a row is overwhelming and really makes one question the concept of time and experience. How can I be somewhere now and have been in the exact same position before? How can I experience something that has potentially never occurred because of the inhalation of a substance? It is quite boggling really. After exploring the realm of drugs extensively, it is quite odd to look back at a night in question like this and wonder how a substance can do what it did.
My best friend and I sat there for hours on end, inhaling and chatting. We would occasionally salvage a blunt roach to smoke on or steal a cigarette from her older sister or father. They were never my choice in brands but it’s difficult to be picky when you’re a thief. Up until this point in time, I had always enjoyed the aroma emitted from gasoline. However, this night would mark a change in perception.
The majority of what occurred is not only uninteresting but extremely hard to remember. Gasoline has a way of doing that… expelling memories from your brain in a whirlwind of déjà vu and uncontrollable nap taking. But, at some point in time we decided to take our little private party inside; perhaps because of the weather but more likely because of a lack of clear reasoning.
All I can vividly remember is that we both woke up to her father beating on the window of her bedroom to let him inside the house. We were both so startled by this event occurring that she knocked over the canister filled with the petroleum based product. Quickly scrambling to resolve the issue, we hid the gas can in her closet. We then looked at each other in pure disbelief over the situation. Not only was it scary but it was also quite amusing. The situations we would put ourselves in were always quite delightful, even when they were horrific beyond belief. We tried to muster up a plan of action but it was no use.
She then ran to unlock the door to let her dad in. The first thing he asked upon entrance into the house was, “Why does it smell like gasoline in here?” Obviously we did not have an adequate answer for him other than, “We don’t know, we were wondering the same thing,” The best part is that he never even questioned us. Why would he? We were just sweet teenage girls with smiles plastered across our faces because we had been huffing gasoline all ******* night.
On a night not too far in the future, we would partake in the same type of inhalation but because there was not a canister at my house, we would huff it straight from my grandma’s van. Our neighbor saw us doing it and called the police. For the rest of my grandmother’s life (six short months) she passionately believed that people in our neighborhood were trying to siphon gas from her Chevy Astro. She made me go to an auto parts store to purchase a gas tank lock to deter such activities. That marked the end of our gas huffing days.
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
sweet silence
i failed to understand the reference
for so very long
how could it be golden
when language and words can be so full of light
so glorious
it is only when the talk
usually so stimulating and enchanting
turns into something so cold
so repetitive
with unclear motives
in a torturous context
why must you torment me
please just be direct
clear and honest
you can prolong this as long as you would like
but it doesn't change the truth of the situation
the outcome cannot be delayed
you are simply causing me pain
forcing me to  escalate a feeling of distress
into one of rage
annoyance and resentment
those are feelings i wish not to know
in such an intimate manner
i do
desire feelings of joy and pleasure
cheer and bliss
please indulge me
it is one of the few things i request of you
do not deny me them
allow me to feel
what we both desire
you ask me to beg
so now i will
end this boxiness
and allow the breeze to enter us both again

there are few things in this life that i am certain of
but i have no doubts about our worthiness of this
sweet jingles of contentment
Jane Tricky Apr 2014
it is hard to stay awake
dreams so bleak
wash down your sins
spit up hope again
it is so funny, you know
life through a kaleidoscope
hearty to pray (prey?)
desperate to weep
a day, a month, a year gone by
the cry of desires never die
except ambivalence
accept the lie
craft the trade
filling your dose
delightfully anesthetic
denial of company
take off
but do not forget to bleed
or was it, be?

Jane Tricky Apr 2013
I take a stroll down memory lane
Stroll might not accurately describe what’s really occurring

Lots of trips and stumbles
Frequent falls
The occasional skip and trot
Dragging my feet
What horrible posture I have

So many events to recall
So many life altering states
Interactions between us
All the things.

It’s hard to smile all the time
Even though I’m amused
The past is something that is hard to forget
Scratch that
Impossible is a better choice in words
Is it letting go that is important?
Forgiving and forgetting
Or is it remembering that really matters?

If I fail to reminisce
All the times you’ve made me cry
All the ways you broke my heart
Might not allow adequate credit to be given to today
This very moment
The reason I chose to stay.
Why I came back
And still do

After all these years
I’m still here
Still gushing
Still smiling
I look at you
My heart wrinkles
Your eyebrow crinkles with delight

The beginning is always so hard
The ending is equally difficult
It’s the middle that is the most beautiful
The most significant
The part that I choose to remember
The part that I choose to never forget
Jane Tricky Apr 2013

bayyyybeeeeeee kitty

pink nose
black whiskers
sandy tongue
green eyes
smooth fur

im not playing..
im not playing...
im not playing.. i'm cleaning..
i'm cleaning, i say!

crazy cute
cats, i say, CATS!

what once was an autonym has now become a species nickname
not the kind with butter and jelly
the kind with paws for feet
the kind with purr eruptions

boeboe, executive chef
macmillyun, geometric artist
professor pinenut, astrometrics physicist
ridiculous or brilliant?
how could you name your cuddly companion nothing more than something totally great?

laser eyes
can haz cheeseburgers
oh.gee meme
im not sure that anyone else takes the cake (fish, of course)

beating the canine, every time
instinct and balance
not to mention wit
theres not competition
other than size (which they don't seem to grasp)

i hope that when i die
i can meow next
don't call me an effing cat lady
Jane Tricky Mar 2013
It twas a chunk.
A bootleg papertowel, ziplock baggie, hairband combo
Allowed me to continue
Cutting and subsequently cooking
Perseverance? Check.
Being a bad *****? Check.
Maintaining a sense of humor while I'm gushing blood? Check.
Jamming 90s alternative rock with my nineteen year old brother? Check.

No ******* this time though..
He wouldn't allow such.
Jane Tricky May 2013

every piece has its own special place
or does it?
tricky little *******

don't tell me something is missing
oh but of course!

start on the outside
the easy stuff
and work your in way

unbelievably difficult
something that appears so easy

i feel like im being deceived here
working so hard to figure this out
trying to solve this
to understand
to clinch victory
im not the kind of girl who gives up so easily
im not the kind of girl who has unfinished tasks

its not science
its not math
its not art
come to think of it
it might be all of the above

it feels incomplete
its too soon to tell though
only time will assist me in this endeavor
that, and patience

my grasp of the latter is minimal to say the least
i hope the clock does not stop  
i hope i do not let the frustration swell up inside me
only to erupt

because i will kick this effing puzzle onto the floor.
is love synonymous with jigsaw puzzles?
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
Thick skin shields me from the blows
Like a reptile
Impervious to your words
Your hateful language

As true as it may be
It doesn’t soften the blows
I would ask for lies
Because they would be more comforting today
But tomorrow I would regret such a request
I would be shamed for not accepting the blunt honesty you have to offer
So I listen
Wide eyed
Open eared
And I weep.

I compare myself to an animal
A creature that cannot be harmed by such linguistics
You lash out in a hateful monologue
I cringe with fear at the truth
Mostly because it’s something I cannot deny

I let you in enough so that you have such leverage
In saying the things you know to be honest
For a moment I wish you didn’t have such power
That you were not informed of my inadequacies
That you didn’t know exactly where to apply pressure

But you do.
Full disclosure will do that.
poems or tricks?
Jane Tricky Mar 2015
the most sickening of feels

when you want to write all the words
but its hard to write any

my mind races
the pen gushes
the keys stick
the paper is soggy
the interwebz is broke
my notebook is lost

i want to numb myself
all the ways

but i cant
not i wont
let my vices dictate me
because they have for so long
the ones we shared
and look where we ended up

now my muse
isn't even here to admire the work

the words
the lines
the stanzas
the verses

all written for him, and only him

will be unread by his eyes
what's the point?
Jane Tricky Mar 2015
never wanting to watch another romantic movie again
because i watch for you

listening to the same song on repeat for an entire day
because i listen for you

writing poetry on paper until my hand hurts
because i write for you

staying in bed and crying all day
because i cry for you

rereading everything we've ever written to each other
because i am afraid to forget you

not knowing what to do next
because i cant live without you
silently screaming for you.
Jane Tricky Dec 2013
unbeknownst to me, it was here
staring me in the face

our eyes, locked
intertwined views
a static gaze
the face of one

without warning
my heart sank
eyes flutter
lungs emptied of air
unable to catch my breath
unwilling to speak
blinded by the sight of it all
all is him

i fidget
he wrinkles
we smile
are such smirks out of fear
or purely of relief
here we are
at last

we still long for something more
unsure if it is even attainable
we strive to achieve
our hearts bleed
our souls stretch
like pinched skin
rubber or flesh

we dance
rather stumble about
drunk on a love
high on each other

is this really it
despite my desire to temporally transgress
to seek truths
we must remain in our current state
the fast forward button is broken

maybe this is actually repeat
although it could possibly be shuffled
i would not dare rewind
although the desire to pause is often present

all that's left
is anticipatory anxiety
and dreams

and you
and me
perfection? perhaps
purity? oh please
persuasion? plenty
poetry? positively

i cannot wait to see what happens next.
one thing is for certain

this is the forever mix
only one question still remains
are you the dj or the turn table
let's stay together
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
i listened to you
jabber on (note to self: look up jabber)
and i wondered

you unleashed yourself on me
tirades of mishandling (note to self: look up grammar in this line of poetry)
and i wept
note to self: note to self.
Jane Tricky May 2013
say what you mean
mean what you say

use your words to confuse
although i try my best to understand
you try your best to prevent that

its difficult to know how someone feels
when their emotions have been twisted and contorted to fit into a verse

manipulation through words is bittersweet
allude to what you want and how you want it
but never come out and say it
cowardly or brilliant

its perplexing to wonder if someone methodically goes about writing their poems
hoping the reader will hang on every line
ponder about the choice in every word

will the poet effectively convey their message?
is that even their wish?

i hate asking questions i know will never be answered
but i refuse to stop investigating
i must examine all the things

so here i sit
my eyes moving left to right
line to line
verse to verse
stanza to stanza

and i hope
i hope that i comprehend
i hope that i can appreciate
i hope that i have received your message

i just hope the message was for me
i'm talking to you.
Jane Tricky Jun 2013
take a deep breath.
hold your nose.
mostly because you cannot swim.
face first.
swan dive.
asphalt or water.
it does not matter.
both hurt the same.
anything does.
when you face it head on.

let us just hope that shallow is not an adjective used to describe it.
Jane Tricky Dec 2013
four wheels
gliding gracefully along the surface
holding hands and displaying large grins
echos of jokes and secret tellings and laughs

most often referred to as rink
typically filled with jovial adolescents
birthday parties and family outings
weekend afternoons
coaxing is often a requirement

the freedom to move without lifting a foot
who needs to walk, skip, or jump
when you can roll, roll, roll

you crossover
i stumble
you move backwards
i fall
my legs are bruised
as is my ego
i cannot stop smiling

nostalgia at it's finest
memories of lock ins
hokey pokies
races to the death

it has never been so much fun to get hurt
it seems as though time has worn on me
im no longer an elastic young girl
don't tell me that, though.
five more minutes
Jane Tricky Apr 2014
ambient noise
juniper berries dancing along
comfort dissipates
new age olds
the red light flashes
lung discomfort
anonymity of the soul
one shade too grey
cushion your needs
do not let it go to your head
i find it hard to blink
yet alone breathe.

cruise chaos
brine lips
delicacy is a blessing
shame a hope
when wheels stick
i will still follow you
black or blue
steeps for weaks
weeping bridges
the destination never changes
but my smile does.
Jane Tricky Dec 2013

all the things you say you will do
all the things you don't

all the ways you are different from two
all the ways you arent

all the words you convey so well
all the ones you choke

all the promises of whats to come
all the doubt they provoke

fearful of falling into the same rut
scared of how this will play out

i cannot express myself more clearly
i cannot communicate anymore than i am

you want my voice
you want my opinion
then listen when i tell it to you

no no no
not just listen
react appropriately.

until then.
ill be waiting
or will i?
Jane Tricky Dec 2013
permeate throughout my palette
worthless toothbrush
useless mouthwash
the bad taste you have left never seems to fade

pervading throughout my nasal cavity
ineffective tissue
pointless sniffle
the sickening smell of yours does not dissipate with time

imbued remnants of a touch
meaningless baths
wasted soap
my skin still crawls from our contact

a lingering voice provoking auditory aches
cotton swabs provide no relief
an inserted finger only jabs away
i feel as though my ears are bleeding

you have left me with something i wish not to have
you have shaken my senses and there is no going back
i no longer have control of these basic instincts
instead i have fallen victim to the havoc you've wreaked

how i long not to experience any of these things.
get gone.
Jane Tricky May 2013
Is it luck?
Or shall we call it fate?
The series of events that led us to this place.
Hardly alone, we are together
Yet I feel this strange sense lingering
One I am somewhat familiar with
One that seems so foreign
I cannot quite place my finger on it
Mostly because it is not tangible
But also because I have trouble grasping the concept
Let’s speak in terms of this happiness
Shall we?
How do you know when you’re there?
Perhaps it is a place
Lush with vegetation and life
The beauty of nature embodied in a select location
Or is it more like a fragrance?
Titillating your sense of smell
Inciting nostalgia or an appetite
It could potentially be a sight as well?
Your visual desires
Optical stimulation at its finest
Surely it must be none of these things
That is when the tricks come in
Delusions and illusions
Games and misguidings  
Delight and torture
A complete lack of understanding
How do I know what I am feeling when I am feeling it?
I am sure some will think I am quite the fanatic for searching so far into myself
Others might think the answer is quite obvious
I, however, find it quite perplexing
An answer on the tip of my tongue
Simultaneously lost in translation
My senses are numb
I struggle to find firm ground so that I may stand again
If this is it, how can I be certain?
Oh wait, I can't.
Jane Tricky May 2013
she twirls the pen in her fingers
occasionally nibbling at the end
old habits die hard
new habits form easily however

she rubs her eyes
never receiving adequate sleep at night
the snooze button has seen better days
always late to work
always late to life
some day it will catch up
maybe that day is the present

she nibbles on her nails
ok ok ok
she gnaws them off obsessively
if she were able, it is clear she would not have fingers above her first knuckle
a habit she has had longer than she can remember
a habit she has had longer than she has been able to walk (thanks mom)

she taps her foot on the floor
if only she were graceful enough to have rhythm and harmony
it probably would not sound like death knocking at your door

she lets her nerves get the best of her
she allows stress to run her life
she plays the games they told her to play
she even wins at many of them
she looks good on paper
she looks even better nekkid
she is sad
she is mad
she is happy

she is lost.
Jane Tricky Dec 2013
you remind me of a cigarette
a haunting spirit

a distinct scent
ashy at times
somethings youre nothing ****
two tones

i crave you in the morning
i require you after lunch
i need you in the evening
i long for you all day

full flavored
powerful yet delicate
you could burn me
but i could break you in half

when im jonesing
its for you
and you alone
i refuse to share you
i pack you tightly

youre mine
and youre smoking
all i know
is i keep coming back to you
Jane Tricky Mar 2013
golfers riding mechanical bulls.
puking on street corners.
awkward cops. angry to boot.
***** fights. purple dresses. gold heels.
greasy cheesesteaks.
shuffle board AND bocce ball.
doritos. cool ranch AND nacho cheese.
white and black pin strip cardigans.
breast pumps or sound amplifiers?
****** indie.
photo booth bombs.
hot tea.
cheap whiskey.
expensive cocktails.
sticky icky danky green.
missed shows.
long lines.
remind me why im here again?
Jane Tricky May 2013
smoke billows across the open sky
dancing on the horizon of space and time

from a distance the beauty is admired
sitting atop gentling rolling hills

long blades of grasses and petals of wild flowers
the culmination of such always brings a sense of peace

but not today
this will not be the day for any sort of serenity

there is nothing to fear but fear itself
except certain death

looming in the distance
waiting for innocence to be served up on a silver platter

he is coming for you and he is coming for me
dressed in a fancy suit he pretends to be whatever you want

the essence of life that binds us
is also the cascade of our dismay

eeny meeny miney moe
catch the devil by his toe
and if he hollars let him go
but he will be back, this you know

i have yet to hear of anyone walking away from such encounters unscathed
there is a sense of irony to the entire situation, if you ask me

i'm just living to die
what about you?
Jane Tricky Apr 2015
insert body here

it was not you
that told me to
that wanted me to

but i did
i let you go
simultaneously seizing you

you belong to me
and i
well i
belong to the abyss

once upon a time
i gave myself to you

whole heartedly
like the hearth to a cold room
an incessant addition
to an empty craving space

crazed by desire
inspired by devotion
alone within ourselves

and i digress
only to weep
endless puddles of hope
empty holes of common space

my eyes burn
vision blurs
you know its' at its worst
when your hope is for tears

pull (pool) back the waterworks
spare the salty sea
mimic the madness
you're falling to fate

i bide time
reproach destiny
(ir)rationally regress

something that should have never been
the fallacy that is not reality
takes hold

my throat is bruising
as i gasp for air
suffocation struggles

and then
well then
i realize
suffocation doesn't seem so shabby

the perfection of peace perceived through peril

freedom is like my ears
it rings
like a ******* headache
and it won't stop
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
sometimes i feel like a citrus
lemon, orange, lime, or grapefruit
fragrant and flavorful
my insides bitter or sweet
and my outsides the exact opposite
high quantities of acid regardless
eat me raw
press my juice, i make a great 'ade
you may also preserve me in a marmalade

sometimes i feel like an apple
do not call me a crab tho
a globose pome
my outside has smooth shiny skin
my inside is sweet or **** yet soft
my centre contains seeds arranged in a star-like manner
i make great pies
but i also pair great with cheese
my versatility allows me to please

sometimes i feel like grape
growing from the woody vines
my flexibility is far and wide
raisins, vinegar, oil, and wines
i prefer to remain in a cluster of friends
im afraid to venture out
because i need them to sustain

sometimes i feel like anything other than me
i am tired of looking in the mirror
i have grown weary of what i see
so i pick flora and fauna
inanimate objects
weather and time
space and place
to rectify my existence
in some way that i can relate

at least when i list fruit
my belly aches with delight
personification is such a sweet treat
Jane Tricky Jun 2014
dust begins to collect
frequent cleanings are nothing but memories of the past
your possessions remain
relics of what once existed

what happened to
the unbreakable bond
your endless creativity
my deceitful beauty
how can such things deteriorate so quickly

and now we sit
legs crossed
in so many forms
clinging on to the past
analyzing all uncertainties
wondering of the true capability
of change
of resolution
of depth

the way things were
infinite romance
joyous love
unscathed hope

we are the storm

and now we find ourselves
right where we started
longing for love
lusting for something lasting
neither of which led us here

we both know
it will never
it can never
the bond

one question lingers
as it always has
for days
for weeks
for years
decades slip by so quickly

one thing is for certain
nothing lasts forever
*nothing ever fades
see you later.
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
of sweat
roll down her face
she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand

the heat
makes her heart flutter
not with delight
but with apprehension
with fear
more importantly

the anger
she possesses within herself
stays contained for so long
but is known to erupt
fury and vengeance
spite and wrath

directed at those
who have caused these feelings
endured by those
unfortunate bystanders in her path

the remorse
of hurting those
innocent beings which played no part in the dismay
in the desecration of her soul

the lack of regret
engulfs her
as she remembers that she too was just an inculpable bystander
but was soiled by the ignorance of others

and now
she drips
every pore in her body
her tears hot with turbulence
even her saliva tastes ferocious

she dries the violence
she once again
suppresses the animosity

this however
wont be the last time

provokation is inevitable
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
The river flows or does it?
the creek, the stream, and all the tributaries
contribute to the river like words dancing on water
each unique.
destined for greatness.
the relationship of these segments create the river basin
without each individual piece, there is not continuity.
a summation of these small parts creates a holism in the way water flows
all trying to reach the ocean
all flowing in the direction and path that this earth has intended
all guided by forces greater than their own
striving to become part of the something greater than they can know
what was i talking about?
it can be the beauty of companionship
it can be expressed in a liquid format
it can be cheers to the future
cheers to success
cheers to a great day
cheers to a **** day
cheers to any moment of any time of any day or night

it can be like a tidal wave
crashing down.
you turn (it) back
neat and vicious
cheap and efficient
a vice
a means to one end
swells of liquids
lather. rinse. repeat.
alex, what is quotes by mark twain?
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
sweet *****
sometimes toetoe
often skits
but always *****
my love
my dream
my doll
the apple of my eye
the nails on my chalkboard
the silver lining to my cloud
the dog whistle to my baby ears
where have you gone?
for, i cannot find you
you are no where to be found
something i am not only uncomfortable with
something that i fear
come back to me
find me
you know where i'll be
black tank.. black socks.. black everything..
i'll be waiting for you
patiently waiting
in the most impatient of ways
i'll even try to whistle when i see you near
if only to remind you that i'm here.
Jane Tricky Mar 2015
i hold you in my hands
i twirl you between my fingers
long and slender
on fire

i inhale you
i blow you out
invisible upon first encounter
but a smokey exit

sometimes i am clumsy
and i forget to tap you
into the ashtray
around which my life has formed

as the ash rolls off
i anxiously attempt to gather
then i remember
that you are no longer

no longer a solid being
but instead
a fragile reminder

something i can not contain
but really
i never could

and yet

i cant stop myself
from trying
again and again

to gather you up

to make you whole again

i still sit here
smoking you
and wondering

will you come home first

or will i force my homecoming
you're a cigarette
and i'm just a hopeless heart broken romantic
Jane Tricky Apr 2013
That smile
That stupid smile
That **** eating grin of yours
Beautiful pearly rounded chompers
Okay, so maybe they are a little yellow
Who’s aren’t?
When one has smoked filterless filters for the last 10 years
What does one expect?

It’s exquisite really.
It brings me to the ground
Mostly from the weak knees that it incites
Nostalgia doesn’t even begin to describe
I’ve seen it in my dreams
It’s been with me for the last decade
It’s something that I will never be able to forget

The largest mouth I ever done seent
3 ounces of liquids in one easy swallow
I could put my foot in there
And there would still be room

Belches and burps
Curses and yells
Loud laughs
Sweet whimpers
All the things that are expelled

Every time a smile appears
A smug smirk
A gushing grin
I smile back
Despite my anger
Or fears
It doesn’t seem to matter how upset you make me
I smile back

The history we share is complex
Predating all the things
All the peoples
All the events
All the places
Spanning such far distances
In space, place, and time

And here we are.
How long have I known that bittersweet smile?
A better question is how long I will continue to be graced with it.
Even if that is shorter than I hope
I’ll still remember.
It’s something I can never forget.


— The End —