"jacqui" poems
Scarborough circa 1989
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
Raises the morning on her shoulders
Swelling between tears and laughter
She melts words into meaning
and gambles on intuition and power
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
looking back and looking forward
finds the dawn most appealing
and issues commands and warnings
to all those with the inner strength to heed them
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
smiles, and the strength of metal
and the purest of beauty
are forged anew
Into the eyes of this miraculous woman
I enter a new beginning
where wisdom lives, and moves, behind her horizons
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
becomes the centre
where all truths are issued passage
and all lies are refused
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
blends courage and compassion
into hues of fine precision
and automatic weapons
Jacqui in the night of the instant sunrise
spreads warmth like a familiar blanket
and moves the day by her power
just as it moves her.
James H. Webb
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
I dreamt about you last night
tripping in eyelid flutters,
drifting in bizarre slumbers
entranced by illusions of you.
If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.
I dreamt about you last night
in my woozy sleeping arms held
you tight. In reverie we
left heartache behind to live.
If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.
I dreamt about you last night.
Imaginary laughter,
chimerical and hazy
fantasies enchanting us.
If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.
I dreamt about you last night,
told you everything will be
alright. Moments together
we will treasure forever.
If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.
I dreamt about you last night,
and awoke in a gloomy dawn.
Wonder if you dreamt of me
knowing you do you love me.
If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.
I dreamt about you last night
eternally keeping you in
my sight. Our eyes will meet one
day, embracing our faces love.
If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.
Wishing to see you,
dreaming of you.
Loving you forever.
.
©Jacqui Slade
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 4:11 AM UTC
Alice was a hippy girl
whimsical and free spirited
in dalliance with imagination.
Living in a trippy world
and a psychedelic dream.
Where life was fluffy and free
from the restraints of responsibility.
Her thoughts drifting
always questioning.
Far out man.
Always in her daydream bubble
partying for peace and love,
keeping her soul out of trouble.
In nonsense rhyme
and hallucinogenic vibe,
creating her own escape.
And all the while her rabbit
with an anxiety problem,
would tell her he was
going to be late.
She nibbled on cakes
that she laced,
with her boyfriend
and together they embraced
their Wonderland.
Grinning like Cheshire cats
hand in hand spiralling,
out of control
down rabbit holes.
Far out man.
Always in her daydream bubble
partying for peace and love,
keeping her soul out of trouble
in nonsense rhyme
and hallucinogenic vibe
creating her own escape
And all the while her rabbit
with an anxiety problem
would tell her he was
going to be late.
Spending their days in wonder
in unknown potions drunk
they would ponder
the meaning of life,
in playing cards talking
with ***** smoking
caterpillars and
mocking turtles on a beach.
Reality so far out of reach.
Far out man.
Always in her daydream bubble
partying for peace and love,
keeping her soul out of trouble
in nonsense rhyme
and hallucinogenic vibe
creating her own escape
And all the while her rabbit
with an anxiety problem
would tell her he was
going to be late.
Alice was a hippy girl
whimsical and free spirited.
Wishing for a different world,
escaping in kaleidoscopes.
Mind blowing and free.
The truth smashed down
her house of cards in responsibility,
and she had a date with reality
in actuality reality eventually
Growing up man.
Always in her daydream bubble
partying for peace and love,
keeping her soul out of trouble
in nonsense rhyme
and hallucinogenic vibe
creating her own escape
And all the while her rabbit
with an anxiety problem
would tell her he was
going to be late.
He was going to be late.
He was going to be late.
©Jacqui Slade
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 4:41 AM UTC
Autistically
speaking
I applaud
your intelligence!
flap flap
clap clap
when you
don't think
before
you think
flap flap
clap clap
or open your
*******
******* mouth!
and disparage
and belittle
those with
a learning
disability.
But then maybe
It's you who is
disabled
as you don't
seem able to
distinguish
between what
is right and wrong
what is cruel and kind
flap flap
clap clap
in your ignorance
you are blind
and your
intellectual mind
is a snob
of the worse kind
Looking down
from your high brow
because you
are so clever
I forget
Let's all applaud
and you can remark
(Out of context of course)
that they're all ******* retards
flap flap
clap clap
Well aren't you hard!
You bully when
you say
the dimwits
and the morons,
unloveable,
undateable,
unwanted,
a drain of society
they should all be
put down.
Not somebody
you would choose
to be friends with
or if you did
it would be so you
take advantage of
an idiots good nature
and pure heart!
flap flap
clap clap
Or so you
could look good
in comparison
to them
and maybe it
would knock your
own IQ up
a number or two!
Your average ******
could teach you a
thing about numbers
if you asked them
And you wouldn't want
your own kids
playing
with them
incase they catch it....
Catch what?....
the ability to be
awesome
to think outside
the box
to see feel and
understand
and experience
the world and
people in a
completely
unheard of way.
To smell colours
and taste words,
and your inability
to deviate from
anything other
than your narrow
little mind
really is absurd!
So let's all clap
and flap flap
flap flap flap
and maybe
shriek a bit too!
They are the true
freethinkers
the true misfits
the pure and
the truly blessed
They are
the ones
the people
who are
"different"
"Individual"
as you
would like
to be
flap flap
clap clap
You ignorant ****
Autistically speaking
Who's the ****** now?
©Jacqui Slade
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
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
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
Mulling over the
Usual things and
Nothing changes much.
Difference sought
And dreams in
New experiences but
Everything's the same
©Jacqui Slade
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
Wishing washy whimsy,
Hoping dreams aren't flimsy.
In cloud moons so ditzy.
Magic and creative,
Scatterbrained and native,
Impulsive, evasive.
Chasing rainbows always
Airhead bubbles. You stray
Light and fickle to play.
©Jacqui Slade
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
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
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 3:12 PM UTC
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
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 3:14 AM UTC
Feeling peckish?
Reach into me
Indulge yourself!
Don't worry about your diet!!
Gorge it all lovely food!
Eat yum! yum! yum!
©Jacqui Slade
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 3:29 PM UTC
When the stars fell like rain
the darkest of nights fell.
Skies descended and death
silhouettes swallowed hope.
Cosmic despair fell down
in fiery orbs weeping,
and the cadaverous
crescent churned oceans tides.
Tempered the winds howled
in lamentation, the
Earth mother spun with
silent revolution.
The birds whooshing feathers
eerily flitting in
their mournful departure
and the demise of man.
©Jacqui Slade
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
Stories are who we are:
mysteries
dramas
tragedies
comedies.
Each has their own cliff hangers,
their twists and subplots
and the occasional well timed reveal.
They include story arcs that don't seem to add much to the overall narrative, but later
once we get to the next chapter
they begin to make sense.
Heroes, heroines and the occasional bad guy,
characters that pass through and are never heard of again
and some who stay to become integral to the final act.
And then there's book marks -
Giving us pause
for breath
for thought
before we plough on
to the next chapter.
Stories are who we are
and almost as if we collaborate
our stories together become richer
- they become epic
and they will be retold by those who follow.
Stories are who we are
and Jacqui's story is a best seller.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
A mouths fixed curvature is
dishonestly deceiving,
The truth eyed in retinas
beaming a darker side.
Worn in charades to conceal
authentic feeling a mask,
contorted pleasure in its
fraudulent extortion.
Smile in artificial laugh
eyes are mocking with disdain.
Malice in stiff mouths facades.
a cardboard mask is worn
Irises in verity
cannot conceal a nature,
smirking in honest contempt,
a grin harbouring a soul.
©Jacqui Slade
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 6:33 AM UTC
Now look here baby girl it's only natural to be depressed
You're bound to see the bad things when you're looking for the best
The best is what you deserve; I don't want to see you settle for less
Please remember that I'm thinking of you when life seems like its a mess
I hear it in your so sad voice, I know you'll get up off the floor
Just remember that if one door shuts, well it's only just a door
A girl like you in a world like this is bound to see so many more
You just have to keep moving onward and upward just like you have before
When the going gets tough and you feel all alone and you're unsure of what to do
All I can say is that you've got a friend in me, a friend who wont ever leave you
I'll be by your side, until one of us dies, through the good times and the bad
I hope you know it hurts my soul to see you be so sad
So take my hand, use my love like a crutch to limp through troubled times
I don't expect a **** thing in return, its enough for me to know you'll be fine
I promise I can relate entirely to the anxiety that you feel
This life of mine has been crazy and sublime; anxiety is part of the deal
I know what its like to have such bad anxiety that you miss another meal
And no matter how tired you are you can't sleep
So my heart goes out to you sweetheart, and I swear every single word I say is true
I'll be here through the good and the bad; I'll be right here with you
Even if right here constitutes an actual distance that is a million miles away
I'm right by your side in spirit, I just want you to be ok
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
Anger will devour love
Love loses appetite.
Turning it to hatred,
slowly in every fight
Anger will eat respect.
Respect is chewed by seethe.
In disgust respect will die
leaving its love to grieve.
Anger will swallow joy,
and happiness is chewed.
Ires bitter after taste,
in spittle and abuse.
Anger will devour love
and love will run its course.
Anger gets just desserts,
when anger is divorced.
©Jacqui Slade
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 5:34 AM UTC
There is a human race for
existence in outer space
amongst stars and schemes,
intergalactic dreams
of Milky Ways.
A cosmic myriad
of eventual opportunity.
The future is written there
by astrological stars
in horoscopes and
scary self inflicted
prophesies of extinction.
Climates will change
and Mother Earth will
be estranged from
humanity if that is
what you call it.
Her wrath will be felt
in polar ice cap melts
and selfishly we'll drown in
the name of progress,
technological
advancements,
and our deluge
of need.
Or comets will dive
in flaming skies,
meteors will give rise
to mass panic and
the deathly cries
of life's demise
as we know it anyway.
There is a human race
which the wealthy embrace,
and money is no object.
Rocketing ambition
to be the saviours of
their own obliteration
billions is showered
in pollution and metal birds
jet packing to Mars.
There is a human race and
idiocy is life when
a bank balance means more
than equality and care,
the poor can just wallow
in despair and die of starvation
and squalid degradation.
While the fortunate can awe
at an international space station,
and visions of new beginnings
in an alien atmosphere.
A destiny in stars,
humanity on Mars
and the meek will be
shipped off like convicts
to build the golden paths
and the construction of
a new society,
guinea pigs of life
in a brave new world
Insanity unfurled
in slavery of a
new civilisation.
If that's what you call it
civilised.
With no regard for life,
Man kind civilly
traded in destruction
of the other
eight point seven million
species they shared
their home with.
Their is a human race
rich in stupidity their greed,
and money was the seed
for war and the annihilation
of morality and sensibility
and sensitivity to the beauty
in the gift of life
and the world.
There is a human race and
it's intellect is misplaced,
as self appointed custodians
of galaxies and distant clusters.
We are all the losers.
©Jacqui Slade
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 6:30 AM UTC
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
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
We ain’t sending Christmas cards any more!
We’ve done the list and that’s it!
Oh no!…There’s another one just dropped through the door.
You approach it gingerly like an unexploded bomb
Cautiously wondering “who the eff is it from?”
“Oh no! It’s someone who’s not on the list… the ********
Or, an older relative who doesn’t ‘do’ computers....
“We don’t do computers!”...
And so it bounces off them this ‘losers’ two pronged attack.
like getting one in the post and not sending one back!
But we definitely ain’t sending cards any more!
Can’t they just send an e-card, maybe one of those Jacqui whats-her-name jobbies...
with floating fairies, sleigh bell sound effects and ****** labradors too.
Or bang off a picture of Santa on FaceBook, Twitter, SnapChat, Instagram…surely that will do.
Oh no they’ve got to go the whole nine yards.
Even if they buy ****** Poundland Cards
there’s still the cost of a ****** stamp! That’s extortionate too!
No… Sorry… actually not sorry...
We ain’t buying OR sending cards any more!
We’ll donate to charity instead - that’ll be us…
It’ll be cheaper and a lot less fuss.
Sponsor a neglected reindeer, maybe a redundant elf
Or yeh…better still - rescue a pup.
One that WAS just for Christmas then just got chucked.
For me this Christmas mail-out is over - the game's definitely up!
Or really… if all else fails…we’ll just buy next year’s supply
in bulk from the January sales!
Dec 6, 2020
Dec 6, 2020 at 7:58 AM UTC
When I was small and very young,
Living in a land of not much sun!,
I used to play nearly every day,
With cousin Jacqui and uncle John,
Down by the sea and the muddy creeks,
Collecting shells, then we’d hide-and-seek.
Sometimes I’d venture on a boat with dad,
Far out to sea and I just a lad.
Once I swam off a forty-foot yacht,
Miles from land but you could see quite a lot.
First I’d tread water then zoom off with a splash,
Back to the stern, making sure not to crash.
And there was my dad –
Oh such fun that we had!
We used to have a border collie,
A flash of black and white
And the trains were soon sorry!
Along the seaside stretch they’d fly –
They were only ever safe at night:
Our Sheba would chase them off “Goodbye”;
Tail uplifted, so full of pride.
Though they’re mostly a haze,
Still I remember the feeling of fun.
Those were the days,
When I was young.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 4:21 PM UTC
There are a hundred ways
To say I wish I could go back,
Or I soaked up growing up like a worried sponge
Or I can still smell the dirt on my jeans
Or I don’t even like baseball, but I love the sound of the metal bat against the ball
Or watermelon slices on summer days taste like presents
Or there was iced tea brewing in the kitchen
Or I thought the lions looked happy in their cages
Or the cherry water ice painted my skin red
Or I had an imaginary friend who taught me loneliness
Or we had water gun fights in the front yard
Or we’d ride our bikes til dusk
Or I thought the older boys in the cul-de-sac were cute
Or I thought the older girls double-dutching were cool
Or the hot plastic of a slide against the back of my legs
Or the timid eyeing of the next rock along the creek to jump to
Or the boom of a grandfather clock chiming
Or I could spend eternity swinging by a rope my poppop tied to a tree
Or my grandmother is a magician
Or I used to believe in magic
Or I still do
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 5:19 PM UTC