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Oct 2016 · 301
Untitled
Jennifer G Oct 2016
everything i have ever said and everything i will ever say
has been said better and with more conviction
i am a parrot without a cause
shopping for banners to wrap around my shoulders
lose myself in an identity
become the crusader
so i don't have to look at what's left
when the banner is tattered and torn away
Oct 2016 · 979
hecate
Jennifer G Oct 2016
wild woman
hold me in your claws
tear my heart out
let me bleed for you
show me what happens
when i fancy myself a poet
Aug 2016 · 627
.
Jennifer G Aug 2016
.
woman:
i don't know you anymore. slowly you have bettered and replaced yourself and i am here, left to wallow and gnash my teeth.

lover:
i leave myself facedown in the river, slumped behind the curtain that obscured me from your quiet understanding. cloister yourself from me.

father:
anger does not become me but i am the only one left to bear it. the vigil being kept in my chest cavity burns slowly, noxious gases escaping my mouth.
Jennifer G Jul 2015
touch me gently
let my veins turn to ichor
i am the fool and i have journeyed so far
just for justice to send me
back to my mother

she took me behind her curtain
stars in her hair
pomegranates at her feet
as the thundering chariot rushed by

you were at the reins
those sphinxes drove you to me
you let them derail themselves
in a flashy display of sparks and
circumstance

come to me no longer
ichor burnt me
it clogged up my heart
and when i am cut
people gather
with bowls to collect from the vein
Jun 2015 · 417
Untitled
Jennifer G Jun 2015
leave your sentimentality with me.
i'll wrap it up like my own, rework it
until it is my own sorrow.

give the lightning struck tree
to the cross maker,
he'll even bear it himself.

tell him how it should be:
rugged and wild, twisted with vines
or smooth and modest, all the edges sanded
so as not to cause splinters.

he bears-
i.
i will bear
that cross to golgotha
without a complaint.
only murmur about how fine of a cross it is
and how pretty the soul is
that will hang upon it.

although i bear your cross for awhile
you must be nailed to it alone.
for i have other crosses to make
and drag through the city streets
for the other sad eyed thieves
and the revolutionaries
whose fire has gone out.
inspired by a conversation i had awhile back.
Jennifer G Jun 2015
missing you quietly
is very unbecoming.
i should be spiraling into
a deep dark gulley
of whiskey days
and tear stained nights,
mumbling my name in your sleep.
it's what you deserve.

instead i add a little more
milk to my coffee
and put my books down
after a few pages.
i am able to laugh.
and i smile at strangers
on the street.
muse
Apr 2015 · 426
bird calls
Jennifer G Apr 2015
I.
friend, you are a swan.
handsome from far away, definitely.
but up close you're kind of a *****.
hissing and flapping
if anyone gets too close to your harem.

II.
friend, you are an owl.
your wide eyes straddle the wingspan
between wisdom and innocence.
you twist your head all the way round
to watch the goings on of your broodmates.

III.
friend, you are a crow.
leaving me shiny bits of music and poetry,
always considered an omen of doom.
but really you're friendly as a cat
with your sharp eyes and flapping bursts of energy.

IV.
friend, you are a canary.
i know this sounds like a disappointing thing to be,
but you were kept in the court of kings.
prized for your small song.
beware of the men that
will lower you into the mineshaft.

V.
friend, you are a hawk.
swooping down upon your prey
devouring it, and moving on.
think of it this way:
it's much more romantic
than being a vulture.

VI.
my flock, i will not keep you.
do not stay in your nests.
when the south calls to you,
leave me please.
i have enough of your feathers as is.
Apr 2015 · 278
Untitled
Jennifer G Apr 2015
send her off to the woods
and let her know the hum of the cicada
and the rhythm of the rain
and how it feels to be silent but not really.
make her see the forest
and see how she is not important
and that in the grand scheme of things
and in the midst of the wrath of mother nature
she is nothing,
and that is okay.
take her out there and leave her
so she may learn and live and grow
so she can feel herself in the earth
so she may tread silently
without even thinking about it.
Apr 2015 · 568
thoughts on an airplane
Jennifer G Apr 2015
stars above me and
stars below flicker as well
a baby cries out
haven't written in so long, this is just a way to ease back in
Mar 2015 · 354
Untitled
Jennifer G Mar 2015
honking noisy geese
watch from the roadside and wait
the new shoots poke up
Mar 2015 · 1.4k
furniture
Jennifer G Mar 2015
you danced with me
upon the floorboards
near the worn out
                        tired old
                              dining room table.

           you sat me on
   the beat up
knife-marked
            kitchen counter
and kissed me on the cheek.

i held you on the
                  shabby
threadbare
             blankets of my bed
late that night.

you didn't need anything then.
you need
                  even
                           less
                                  now.
just playing around with form a bit.
Mar 2015 · 357
poem
Jennifer G Mar 2015
following the quiet unwinding

of the strings
of the patches
of the sleeves

for the good of clearing the air
there settled a fine layer of dust

gold in color
stifling in pressure
and silent in insidiousness
things have been weird lately.
Mar 2015 · 393
Untitled
Jennifer G Mar 2015
you're trying to chip away at my stony exterior, you said.
there's no gold under there.
i am **** through and through.

sorry.
Jennifer G Feb 2015
i thought my salvation was in your arms
but your body and blood are not holy
they are human

there is no resurrection in your kiss
i would prefer bread and wine
at least they don't stink of cigarettes
Jan 2015 · 732
Untitled
Jennifer G Jan 2015
you're beautiful-

like a strange instrument
found in the basement of
a stately old manor home

i don't know how you work
but i can try and make sure
you don't fall apart

i will polish your metal
tighten your strings
and worry my nails to the quick

until someone who knows
how to play you just right
can coax out that lost music

i'll miss you
but what were you doing here?
gathering dust?
these are all rough drafts, really. please feel free to critique
Jennifer G Jan 2015
we are all only mirrors to each other
maybe that's why i don't get along with people
this is just me wallowing, sorry.
Jennifer G Jan 2015
as a child i remember
staring at exotic fruit in the overpriced grocery store
wanting so badly to taste the mystery of a distant place

i took a bite of what i purchased and threw it aside
less of an adventurer than i made myself up to be
she probably wore that chapstick just to spite me.
Jan 2015 · 829
Untitled
Jennifer G Jan 2015
tell me-
is it hard knowing everything is the same?
because my god you feel like stone
beautiful marble
carrying the appearance of warmth
but in reality
cold and unbending
to change you would mean
I must chisel away your edges
but in softening your sharpness
the beauty would be lost
the elusive warmth would dissipate
and I would be left with the pebbles of what you held inside

— The End —