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She wore a smile like a scented candle. It was warm and comforting but… too easy to extinguish. This other girl existed on one end of a knotted piece of string suspended between 2 tin cans… It was hard to reach her, and when you did, her tongue seemed as knotted as the string.

But on days where these two can’t seem to stop smiling. When their bow tie tongues make phone calls sound like miracles… we say things like..

Don’t jinx it.


When underdogs bark like poodles but bite like alpha wolves. when the up-and-coming upstarts undercut higher overseers. At the risk of burning too quickly or too brightly, we say…

Don’t jinx it.


When the meek and the naive achieve more than we perceive.

When we dream on Christmas eve of what we may receive.

When we say things like ‘We’ve been through worse… she won't leave’.

we say…

Don’t jinx it.



The human condition demands so much caution and fear, we shed tears and rub our eyes till all we can see is the least of what we can be and we… live like slaves to the thing that stole our confidence away… ourselves. Somewhere down the line or self belief was found K.I.A so when we try something new, we’re already D.O.A.

So when we play pika-boo with our power, appear like a shower of rain in a desert when you’d already chosen dehydration as your only way out, we dare to tell ourselves, don’t jinx it.



Ladies and gents, boys and girls, you don’t have to rule the world. You don’t have to cure a disease or discover new species or banish hatred from the hearts of man or travel the and experience sights and scenes that only in your wildest dreams did you think you’d see. You don’t have to do a single thing!

But you can do anything.

When Martin Luther King said Let freedom ring, he didn’t fear jinxing a single thing.

And when the Beatles sang love is all you need they weren’t deceived by the forethought that their song wouldn’t be well received. They believed that they could plant the seed that would lead  this musical scene into places unseen.

They believed that all you need is love. That they had the stuff to turn lyrics into legends. They wrote songs so deeply entrenched into our musical history... you’d need a yellow submarine to find them all and… they didn’t care about what they jinxed along the way.

They held their hearts like David held his sling when Goliath told him he was too small, and so should we all, we should stand taller than our legs can and every man or woman who said you can’t you, you shouldn’t will fall! Fall silent like when the voices in your head are all in agreement and are screaming yes!



Confidence is a bag of marbles with a hole in it. You’ve got to think back to where you’ve been to find it again. But whether you’re happy with your marbles, still looking for those you’ve lost or if you lost them entirely… we can share. We’ll stir sweet smiles into your coffee, stitch compliments into your clothes and we’ll garnish every plate and bowl with the untold hope that you’ll believe in yourself.

Like I believe you. Because I do believe in you… and I won't jinx it.
Ruheen  Dec 2019
Jinx!
Ruheen Dec 2019
I don't wanna laugh too much
'Cause I don't wanna
Jinx what I have now

I don't wanna cry too much
'Cause I don't wanna
Jinx what I'll get then

I don't wanna do too much
'Cause I don't wanna
Run when it all ends

I don't wanna jinx it
'Cause I'm scared
That I'll jinx it
Meh.
Haydn Swan  Aug 2016
The Jinx
Haydn Swan Aug 2016
You say it's just a Jinx ?
the alchemist's last kiss
I'l tell you of a life in vain
struggling in this darkness
life lived in a Pandora's box
opened the lid in this misty haze,
just a jinx I hear you say
but I tried to follow the eternal code
rain down my face
not knowing my place
but in the last of these days
I found the code of my DNA
no more time to smile
pushed to walk the extra mile
now this jinx is my warmest coat
settled in to this dark Catacomb.
David W Clare Dec 2014
Let the cat out of the bag then that **** cat runs off with the neighbors dog
Metaphors tell all
Wild jungle call
Bark like an arrogant dog?
Then cry like the wolf alone
Bragging rights are the fools wrongs
Left hand right hand rule
If youre late stay after school
Jinx cat strikes back
Shut up is the advice of the wise
Run your mouth then all turns into a sad surprise...
Jinx the cat then you regret that act...

David John Clare
Written in las Vegas USA I prefer Asia
Julian Oct 2016
Afflatus screams in mellifluous moonlight by a placid pond
Disturbed slightly by a miracle on ice deloused at a heavy price
Pantechnicons swarm as ghosts maraud around the outskirts of the forest
Suddenly the resurrected memories of renegades become conscientious
Angels swarm with fluttered wings invisible to the albatross of opprobrium
They concert themselves with chirpy dreams, itinerant crumples of amnesia creams
Marigolds are miracles at the most opportune time to be called a hysteria
Asserting the divinity of trinkets applauded that litter history with euphoria
Flinch my core, drunk on the travesty of stodgy moralism unfurled zero kelvin cold
But Salt Lake City towers above my contemplations and UFOs make themselves known
Every city this big is well in eternity and maternity very well known
Shelter not from husbandry, for Babylon is no longer idolatry
Stemwinders and poltroons with prisons crooned
Tyrannosaurus Rex still terrorizes aliens and humans alike on a stranded Dark Side of the Moon
Pink is the ****** of Mayweather and Mayflower, so rigid in rock-a-by-baby tunes
Now is "Never" but TV time "When The Music’s Over" is Bang Bane rather than Boom
Hostage tickets of English hecklers proclaiming my royalty serenade the forest green
I hear their laments of the rumors ballyhoo obscene
Imagine a forest bright, trepidation of unlikely marauders of Viking spite
Spates of jinx own the tanks, sharks (jaws of these aliens in time "Thriller") evanesce as fluttered cameras blink
Marigolds are really miracles as euphoria that plangent has never been so bold
It owned the night and owed nothing of fright to hear aliens chirp ******* penetrated so tight
To hear the orchestra of God’s minions applaud my albatross receding in plight
The swiftest musketeer aims his gun at an AIMed pun
The renegade blackmail is the rut of a guttural wedding of a none and a nun
How sad that she waits, as a ragamuffin of eternal wraiths
That speak to her dreams specifically as a barnacle waif
Genius eludes the moment of sinking eternity and Van Gogh alpenglow
Cracked screens reap grime and grim preachers that reap what they sow
Accentuated stature of imposture clutters legends urbane with glowing silt
Rigmarole of laughingstock circus with the strangest 25-year old days of a dead man Wilt
It was the steward of a day too strange to forget
It was the Newark of a Jersey of Gretzky #99, a hard-won bet
Histrionic of history, an underappreciated music is a well-worn divinity
The best music ever is the best music of time-traveled complicity
Sadly lost on inferior ears is the plangent flow of sonorous pantheons
Lost on an island of good taste in a world that prizes prosaic mellow eons
Rather than delicate paeans with hummingbird simplicity
I resent how rare my taste is in an olfactory of waste
How rare a smell is that yegg harder to lambaste
Don’t gibber the jibe of jive-talking stalk
The scarecrow in Back to the Future is a ******* heckler hawk
Rarefied abduction of stolen keys of NYPD sprees
To drivel the wharf of piedmont rifts in Heaven’s eternal leaves
Time to step back from the sidewinder missive
Time to crack the gravy epistle so dismissive
Non-linear experiments in time and memory crave recognition
Finally I learn that house arrest is a Home Alone good enough for a virtual reality prison
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Tiberias Paulk  Jan 2015
Jinx
Tiberias Paulk Jan 2015
How many times have you died
to find the attention you seek
does the praise point back to you
while you imitate the meek
how many galaxies are breathing
as you pass them all by
to pursue an empty ego
and desecrate the sky
chant a broken mantra
then jinx the world below
spin the tales of bittersweet
with lies we'll never know
Maxine Robbins Aug 2014
They say having good friends is like winning the lottery,
Well who gave me a fake winning ticket?
Every friend that comes and goes is just a mockery,
Of my undying kindness even for those who don’t return it.

Is it dumb to believe in the phrase “Best friends forever”,
Or am I just stuck in my 2002 kindergarten playground?
People seem to drop me like a bird sheds a feather,
And I am unwillingly isolated by the time I am found.

I was not aware that friends were like snacks in a vending machine,
Picked and chosen when it is most convenient for you.
I guess I am the little pack of crackers stuck in between,
The chips and the Mountain Dew.

God forbid that machine runs out chips and drinks,
Because then you may have to settle for my boring ******* ***.
And maybe for once it actually won’t be a jinx,
But it’s too late I am no longer a convenience so I shall pass.
Varshini  Sep 2015
I jinx myself
Varshini Sep 2015
Sometimes I jinx myself,
Sometimes I hope too much,
Sometimes I think a lot
All of these are lies.

It’s not just sometimes,
It’s all the ******* time.
My brain refuses to work
My heart refuses to listen

I patiently wait for the end
To the time that I out-stubborn myself
I can go back to non-distractions
Till something else gets my attention
Eulalie  Sep 2013
Jinx
Eulalie Sep 2013
I'm not going to write about you in my journal
Because unfortunately I feel that that form of confession tends to backfire dramatically and leave me jinxed.
It's like those ink-stained secrets wrapped up in leather counteract the decadent visions I drift to sleep with at night
And so,
No
I'm not going to write about you in my journal
You see, I care about the concept of you far too deeply to chance our lingering moments on teenage whimsical compulsions to gush in secrecy
About the way your words shifted my anchored soul,
About the flooding in my heart when you bared yours,
About the mass amounts of internal riots
(The butterflies doth protest)
Of your pragmatic, flirtatious adequacy
Nay, mastery.
No
I'm not going to write about you in my journal
For fear of risking those moments of substance:
Secret-swapping
Joke-exchanging
Soul-bearing times where I wanted nothing more than to jump eight hours ahead so that I could see the undigitized blue of your eyes and feel the ends of my nerves explode off my skin like the Fourth of July.
How is it
That physical proximity has nothing to do with the closeness we seem to share?
I feel
Compelled
by some unexplainable piece of mind to insist and hope and wish that
Like you once told me under volumes of conversation,
We are connected.
I don't want to waste any of this enigmatic familiarity and sudden interdependency
On matters of my own private indulgence
And for this,
I'm not going to write about you in my journal
For you say that you are Atheist
But I know that you meant it when you told me
Your soul knows mine.
It came from the heart. My obsessive, infatuated heart.

— The End —