Orange clouds of crystal and
halos of gossamer dust,
regal and iridescent
in all of their shine encrust.

The crown of dominion
a minister of the skies,
surfaces integrity
in winds it's vaporised.

Striking down in lightening
his electric charge berates,
a celestial karma
sacred justice gravitates.

Casting shadows of chaos
with red blemishes of rage.
His sceptre in thunder bolts,
universal he's a sage.


©Jacqui Slade

I always thought
orange moonlight
from the corner of an
apartment, painted white's,
window was the best kind
of beaming beauty.
spring colored, natural light,
nothing else. it's beauty I ruin
with my idle self,
for I'd love to be spread on
the trimmed, moist grass,
enjoying the smell of nature's cut.
rather I'm slummed alone
on this paperback writer,
the moon glowing,
the glass a fourth empty,
The Beatles playing,
and the peace I need.

Belittling and biting in your
Insecurity, inane jealously paws.
Tenaciously in spiteful caterwauling,
Cutting catty you claw.
Hope it makes you feel better meow.

.
©Jacqui Slade

Write me something beautiful she said,
And I kissed her a sunset of poems in bed.
I made her laugh when the tragedies flowed in her head.
I got writers block when rage made my heart run red.

Write me something beautiful she said
I put my pen down and just listened instead
To what was between the lines where no ink was shed
And helped close the wounds where nothing bled

Write me something beautiful she said
So I took her hand in joy and dread
Signed away every memory ahead
And promised with this ring thee I wed

Tripping in bleary eyed

Illusions and heavy eyelids want to

Rest. Cumbersome in fantasies of slumber,

Eyelashes flutter in escape.

Drifting off to dreamland.

.
©Jacqui Slade

Pictures in gilded frames
Hang immortalising people of
Old in evanescent faces.
Timelessly captured and
Owned forever poised.
Ghostly images fading
Reminders timeworn in
Antiquity. Long dead
Plates forgotten names
Haunting souls captured in
Sepia smiles.




©Jacqui Slade

sometimes you fall in love all at once
and sometimes not at all
and every once in a while you tip toe in
like a childish whim out of bed
after they've already been safely tucked in
love is not something resting inside a body
for us to sneak up on and rustle out from inside.
if I told you I thought love was something
that you could build with me
a delicate masterpiece for just you and me to see
would you send your feet to racing
to something pre-built, something a little more easy
Inside this structure built by our memories
I can find home to safely tell you of the feelings I set to words
of the past we set to melodies
and how I hated it when things were a little uneasy
but something told me to stick around and not jump to an ending
so I locked my insecurities inside knotted fingers
that grew stronger in each clasp
and I'd tell you of how I didn't fight when you swept me off my feet
even though I told you to never lift me
and sacrifice my strong grounding
because everything I am resting in your arms was a fantasy
I'd tell you of how mad I was when I stopped writing
because I couldn't find anything I was confused of
except how to make sure this path didn't set astray
and I never wanted to plague the world with a love they couldn't have
I'd bring you stories of how I memorized your laugh
to play in my head when the world was daunting
how I'd kiss you the same number of times of every morning
to set a routine that wasn't set in monotony
I know that sounds like hypocrisy, but trust me
I'd grow into a story teller
as I recounted my perfect memory
of how I fell to you, of how I fell to be yours
but, I wouldn't leave out the parts of when I tried to run
before the journey had even begun
of when I told you I wasn't ready for anything serious
because I was delirious from questioning what I had done wrong
to so many future ones, from the past,
and how as the days would pass I swore to you
our intimacy was nothing,
our physical sincerity was fleeing before it hit you or me
but I'd tell you from a serpent tongue
terrified of what it could feel but not see
until eventually I knew I was lying when I said we were temporary
and I'd pull your frown from the ground when I reminded you
that honesty hit me so hard I couldn't stop fighting
for a reality involving you and me
so as you were falling to sleep
I hoped knowing that I loved you as much I hoped you loved me
would help you rest easily
and I choked out the saying truly wrapped in sincerity
and the truth left me trembling, but less uneasy
Here and now, I still restlessly fight with the thought of a lack of you
but when I steady my head, it's easy to find the strength I found in you
it's awe inspiring to take to realizing
that despite the work you and I have already employed
to build something that could even metaphorically take to standing
you still find me, simply smiling
and I'd tell you most of all
that I intend to love you through everything and anything

Mulling over the
Usual things and
Nothing changes much.
Difference sought
And dreams in
New experiences but
Everything's the same


©Jacqui Slade

I am not meant to be, where I yam, what I yam
Unless life like spinach, is meant to be canned,
A failure by all reports, I have no retort,

Not one, n o response, my previous successes
lead me to believe, that "what have you done
lately" does not deceive, fills the beast, technology,

That leads me to my breaking point,
Rogue wave, out of the deep blue see,
If I were a martyr, that might be true,

But I am nothing more, than a man
with a love for words and I play with
sounds, really adore what they do;

with my mind,
with my heart,
preventing stagnation,
of my imagination.

Ah, the breaking point
not the tip of a coast,
where land ends,
              and bends open water
to new possibilities.

We all have at least one
In our life, in our career, in our day
Weakness, faint of heart,... No Way,

Even the oceans, and their waves,
As those waves come to shore,
On breakwater's and beaches

Break! but do not dull the ocean's roar.