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Jessica Vogt Oct 2015
I am she and
You used to be
Our nothing
is yet something.
Oct 2015 · 258
A Haiku
Jessica Vogt Oct 2015
Blue snow and white tips
Blotting out the dark patches.
Our son has your eyes.
Apr 2015 · 560
Boots and Rifle
Jessica Vogt Apr 2015
She opened
and fell
In his hands
the boots
the gun
the tags.
“I’m sorry,”
he said
and left.
Nov 2014 · 579
We Are.
Jessica Vogt Nov 2014
I love this, this quiet, this silence,
this absence of sound. Our thoughts
answering each other's and nothing
more. Unwhispered whispers and
nothing more. Bodies together and
nothing more. We are one in this space,
in this nowhere, this everywhere.
We are us in this feeling, in this
spirit, this communion.
We are.
Nov 2014 · 240
cloud control
Jessica Vogt Nov 2014
Shape the clouds.
Show me what I need to see.
The point is sailing right beyond me.
Nov 2014 · 371
Jessica Vogt Nov 2014
You have no time for fear my dear,
You have no time for fear.
Go run and jump and play a while,
You have no time for fear.
Go show the world your crooked smile,
You have no time for fear.
Go find the love who fits your style,
You have no time for fear.
Nov 2014 · 536
Jessica Vogt Nov 2014
Driving on a road of glass,
the clouds under my wheels, I ask,
"Will you join me upside down
through a life we couldn't imagine?"
Nov 2014 · 177
Jessica Vogt Nov 2014
Where am I?
The spark, the light
the soul?
Give it back,
Whatever you are
that stole
Aug 2014 · 1.0k
Mother May I
Jessica Vogt Aug 2014
Mother may I take your hand, the one you waited for me to hold?
Mother may I spend hour after hour, day after day with you?
Mother may I fill your cup to the top with ice and pour you more pop?
Mother may I drive you to town and buy you every glittering piece of jewelry you lay your eyes on?
Mother may I clean the house until it makes you smile?
Mother may I call you anytime, day or night?
Mother may I fix all of your pains?

Mother, may I have you back now?
In memory of my mom, October 11, 1970 - August 8, 2014
Apr 2014 · 551
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
That isn't just dirt in the creases of his hands. It's dry earth he pushed through with a rusty plow behind two mules to prepare his land. It's slivers from the handles he gripped strongly and worked against. It's sweat he wiped from his brow as the sun scorned him. It's hair and **** and slobber from the horses and cows and pigs he tended. It's hard work. But mostly, it's love.
Love filled up every part of his hands, made them look *****. Love filled up a tiny valley as he stroked the long muscular neck hidden beneath the knotted mane of his favorite palomino. Love took its place in his hands as they planted each seed in a predestined hole in the ground. Love soaked the skin when sweat broke free to naturally cool him. Each time he caressed the velvet cheek of his bride with the vulnerable palm of his hand, love was there to leave her a tender tingle. Love acted as a pillow when she pressed her hand into his for comfort; it told her he was by her side and would be there when she needed. It was the fight his touch put into his wife just as she was becoming a mother. Love was the cradle as his baby girl was placed in his hands. Love was the peace his hands told his wife as she slipped away. Love was in his hands as he held his daughter's. Love was in his hands as they walked to the grave, and laid the flowers on it, and walked away.
This was an in-class exercise called "Riffing", where the writer takes a single word and writes what that word calls to mind. "*****" was the inspiration here, in case you didn't catch on.
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
i have found what you are like
the wind
           (Who cautiously caresses cheek
with the anxious longing of hands, wreaks

uncommon want in skin
and disappears, the ghostly loss of

the air of utterable coolness

breaths of fading light
                               with pained
newfragile hope
                               come and go
-in my heart
                             ­      and
And the warmth of your breeze is
a stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
                         your kiss
Adaptation of e. e. cummings "i have found what you are like"
Apr 2014 · 303
The longer
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
The longer
you're gone
the less
I remember
the more
I feel.
Apr 2014 · 377
I have met with Death
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
I have met with Death, it showed no care for me:
It looked me face to face, but left me alone.
Suppose it knows Life's plan for me
And knows he cannot interfere...
Life and I run away from him.
I antagonize it and Life challenges me.
And Death? He sits back watching the show.
When he comes for me, if it is before my beloved,
I will push and fight and kick and scream
And will not
April 2014.
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
The sky opened and swallowed me whole
With rain and rain and rain the more
And then I knew you cried for me.
I lift my face and arms to you;
The grief of your storm holds me,
And caresses so gently that I cry with you,
And cry and cry and cry all out.
April 2014
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
Dance upon the ruin of my walls
They've fallen for you,
heart and soul they've fallen for you.
Don't you know how you change me?
Carefully you build me a low wall,
step over it, and enter
Welcoming yourself and
taking my trembling hands.
Don't you know how you ground me?
Embracing me in a robe of your arms
Sturdy as the earth under my feet.
You've pursued me to my hiding place
and discovered me there.
April 2014
Apr 2014 · 295
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
Sing that song you sing to me
Without words, no melody
Weaving, dancing, in and out
Reaching me without a doubt.
Apr 2014 · 311
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
If my heart was a compass
it would point out;
not north or south
or east or west,
but always forward
and never backward.
Dec. 2013
Apr 2014 · 189
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
Somewhere deep inside
a well overflows
for the right one
to enjoy.
Dec. 2013
Apr 2014 · 252
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
I want to rebreathe my own
trapped against your
with your arm as a
and the other on my
Dec. 2013
Apr 2014 · 282
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
This hair
for your fingers
to swipe
and stroke
and tangle
with it.
Dec. 2013
Apr 2014 · 358
On Driving to Missouri
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
Those gravestones on the bluff, a congregate of death,
All winding to the top, without a single breath.
Around the deadly blunt, each occupant is ******,
Their spirits, floating by, let out a mournful groan,
While maggots in their flesh do break their bodies down.
There in the dirt the bodies lay, becoming one with ground.
Nov. 2013
Apr 2014 · 380
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
Rosin up your bow,
make it tug a little less.
Play the fiddle fancy
as you've played the fiddle blue.
Tune my tender heartstrings
to sound just as they should
A kind of deep vibrato
answering to you.
Apr 2014 · 1.6k
Toilet Paper Hearts
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
Ripped to little shreds
Scattered on the bathroom floor
And left for ***** ends.
Title read as first line.
Apr 2014 · 555
Jessica Vogt Apr 2014
Puffy white to periwinkle,
like tender bruises under
the eye.
Filled to the brim
Onto the

— The End —