"jeanette" poems
Just like Goddess Kali
I am feared when not
understood
my enemies know my loving passion are my kids
those demons slander me
fearing the mother
goddess in me
I gave life and inadvertedly heartbroken waived it
I give life
birthed my children
against all adds
motherhood apeaces me
injustice enrages my dance
I am Goddess Kali Karijin
~~
Precious daughters
Elena Rose Jeanette fear not
I save I protect I write
it's my frenzied dance
surounded by demons ferocious
you and me won many a
gruesome wars
to protect you three your
children alike my light
I have deamed
Remember Mother Kali
I love you miss you
more and more
and for you my life I lay
~~~.
The goddess mother
(excerpt)
~estranged from kids ~
~~~~~~
"The stars are blotted out,
The clouds are covering clouds,
It is darkness vibrant, sonant.
In the roaring, whirling wind
Are the souls of a million lunatics
Just loose from the prison-house,
Wrenching trees by the roots,
Sweeping all from the path...
The sea has joined the fray,
And swirls up mountain-waves,
To reach the pitchy sky.
The flash of lurid light
Reveals on every side
A thousand,
thousand shades
Of Death begrimed and black."
love & motherhood apeace me.
~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
inspired
by Hindi ink Durga-Kali
Shiva Lord's Wife
revised 06-5-19
~~~~
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 11:27 PM UTC
I am Jeanette
I am a mother
A redhead
A wife and a daughter
A teacher
A sister
A friend
I am a graduate
A sinner
A master
An artist
A narcissist
A debitor
I am a liar
A creator
A linguist
A learner
I am a killer
An amateur
A model
A protector
I am Jeanette
I am a dragon
I am a devil
I am a woman
I am a mystery
I am Jeanette
I am a poet
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 12:07 PM UTC
I had a sister once
She had sunshine in her smile
She was everybody’s friend
For you she’d gladly walk a mile
When I see her in my mind’s eye
Jeanette’s forever young
When we lost her to the monster
She was only 41.
So that is why tomorrow
I’ll be racing for the cure.
With caregiver’s and survivors
We will beat the beast for sure.
And if my step should falter
As I am no longer young
Her ghost will run beside me
Until my race is run.
Perhaps you have a sister too,
Or someone that you love
Perhaps she’s a survivor
Of a battle bravely won
We must celebrate the victories
Each year there are still more
Until what was a feeble cheer
Becomes a mighty roar
So that is why tomorrow
You’ll be racing for the cure.
With caregiver’s and survivors
We will beat the beast for sure.
And if your step should falter
For you are no longer young
Your survivor friend will pace you,
Until this race is won.
Gather at the starting line
Young and old together
The sisters and the daughters
And survivors feeling better
There may be 20,000 here
The organizers say
They fail to count the shadows
Who will run with us today.
So that is why today we’re here
All racing for the cure.
Family , friends and lovers
We will beat the beast for sure.
And if our steps should falter
For we are no longer young
Our dead will bear us forward,
Until their race is done.
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 6:08 PM UTC
Free Writing
How curious to be told
to write freely,
to ‘do’ free writing,
and then be given a subject!
That’s unfreeing my freedom.
Thank you, but
I don’t want to think
about this time last year.
As September was
September is,
brim-full of wondrous light
now flowing ‘cross this table
as I write – as freely as I can.
Nobody is going to tell me
to write freely and then
give me a subject, tell me
to write for two minutes
then give me five.
The Memorial Hall
There was a continuity of safeness
in these grounds that frame
this unfortunate building.
Memorable and unforgettable,
the ‘Mem’ Hall was a travesty
by Clough William Ellis.
All balustrades and pineapples,
his signature touch, chosen
it’s said (this architect that is)
because he designed the Bath Club pool
whose famous cup this swimming school
inevitably won year upon year.
Walking with Alice
Grey day this Sunday
And a morning walk
Through the estate
To the edge of fields,
You here to collect
The season’s fruits,
Not to eat,
But for the dyer’s vat.
And I, just to crunch
My boot on stubble
And cross the wide acres
Ready for the plough.
For Jeanette
Her last day in Amsterdam
and a brief break from the Powerbook;
she was playing the flâneur.
In the late afternoon
she came across this painting
in a window, in a gallery
at Van Ostadestraat 294.
She was transfixed.
The painting demanded her attention
and her time. After an hour
(and it was by then nearly dark)
she returned to her hotel
and cancelled her flight home.
For the next three days
she went back to the painting
in a window, in a gallery
in Van Ostadestraat 294.
She had begun to learn to look,
not glance, but look, to stand still
for an hour or more - and look.
She was rewarded by a world of detail
no glance could have brought forth.
She was transfixed.
She was transformed.
Red Point
Leaving the fishing station
to the cows on the beach
through each kissing gate
we passed, we kissed.
The steep road ahead
with the horse and the boy
hid our cabin home.
The sea channel,
the red sand,
the distant rain
glanced us by.
To my children
You’re out there
Living famously
All the way down
And back again.
I do think of you
As birthdays pass
And Christmas letters
Demand attention.
You’re out there
To represent my way
Of baking bread,
Sailing the boat,
Walking too fast,
Winning at Go.
Whether in Qatar,
Kansas City or Deptford
You’re me in disguise.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 2:38 AM UTC
Reynard and I
held back
after biology
while the other kids
had gone
and we walked up
the corridor
I could have scored that goal
lunchtime
if Goldfinch
hadn't got
in my way
he's always
where you don't
want him to be
Reynard said
I saw Jeanette
walking ahead of us
with her blonde friend Angela
Jeanette had class
I thought
her friend
was a short
mouthy girl
but Jeanette
was quite reserved
and looked at you
as if you had stepped
in her sunshine
but I liked her
and that quick kiss
I snatched the other day
still felt stuck
on my lips
Angela had short tight
blonde curls
Jeanette had long
dark hair reaching
her shoulders
I gazed
at her thin figure
her arms by her side
the satchel
over her shoulder
Reynard was still talking
about the football lunchtime
I was looking
at Jeanette’s sway
of hips almost unseen
yet visible
to the trained eye
the way her legs
came down
to her well heeled shoes
the white ankle socks
think we ought
to try get Frazer
on our side
he'd be great in goal
better than Dunton
the prat
he couldn't save a goal
if the ball
was as big as he was
Reynard said
yes we must get Frazer
I said
wondering how I’d get
that kiss
that Jeanette promised
the lips tempting
and her cheek
just visible
the place my lips
touched
the other day
and the kiss
just stayed there
and wouldn't
go away.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 2:00 AM UTC
My muse, my muse,
She’s here right now
She just took a shower and her hair is still wet.
She's wearing a bathrobe, she walks up to the bed and sits
When she crosses one leg over the other I catch a flash of her thighs
Inviting thighs, long legs
She has pretty feet
And pretty ankles,
I always look at feet.
She has delicate wrists
She has long thumbs, here she is
Now leafing through a magazine
With those long thumbs,
Long fingernails.
Her shoes are on the floor, shoes that she wore last night
They've fallen over on the carpet,
My eyes find my way back to her
She seems to have found something interesting in the magazine
Here she is, concentrated on it, her back is straight
In this light, this natural light,
Without make up,
She looks impossibly lovely,
Renoir would paint her.
I get out of bed and walk into the shower.
There’s something strangely intimate
About taking a shower in a girl’s bathroom,
Shampoo bottles and hair conditioners all around me
Water cascading down my bare chest
Recollecting and replaying scenes from the night before:
Unbuttoning her jeans, pulling them off
Seeing her Hello Kitty underwear
And laughing, and thinking it was cute
And saying, umm… so how old are you again?
Humour always works, yes, humour always works.
I love ********** this girl.
It seems as though I'm always ********** her.
At night in the living room, on the sofa
Unfastening her stockings and slowly rolling them off,
Next her skirt, then her underwear…
Sweet parting flesh
I begin thinking of how it’ll be, how it’ll go down
She's always in something classy,
But man, it seems as though I'm always ********** her.
Sometimes I strip everything off her body,
But I ask her to leave her earrings and heels on; they confirm her nakedness
Hoop earrings
Red lipstick
Red heels
I lie in the middle of the bed, lights are dim, she climbs onto the bed
Curls up between my legs, begins by kissing on my stomach...
Great lovers lie in hell, the poet says.
Great lovers lie in hell.
I'm falling asleep afterwards, but not her
*** invigorates me,* she says, tying her hair in a ponytail
This girl, she has the effect of lighting a matchstick in the dark.
She lays beside me and begins to read Jeanette Winterson
And just before I succumb to a deep slumber I remember something and tell her,
Baby, baby, baby, your Morse code interferes with my heartbeat.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
There was a lady from Eiffel
Who went to her date on a cycle
The Cycle it broke
And her eyes they got poked
Now she has a blind date with Michael
©Jeanette
27Jun2019
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 4:31 AM UTC
Hi everyone and welcome to brumbies night live snd this is going to be an exciting match against the might of the NSW Waratahs where if the brumbies win a bonus point and win they will be on top of the Australian conference and now here is Tom with a jingle
Jingle jangle party on
Go the brumbies go brumbies go
We need to win this exciting match
To be the best in Australia yeah
Come on brumbies
Come on brumbies
Win win win
Put the pressure on the Waratahs
Keep them down
Come on brumbies
Let’s cheer them on
Come on brumbies
Party on
Jingle jangle jingle jangle
Party on brumbies beat the tahs
Thank you Tom and now here is Peter
Row row row the ball
Up and down the field
Beat the tahs beat the tahs
Come on brumbies
Row row row the ball
And we will cheer them on
Go the mighty brumbies
Be the best in Australia
Thanks Peter and now here is the match go brumbies beat the tahs
Hi everyone and what a great lead the mighty brumbies have got at the half time break the score is brumbies 28 NSW 3 and it looks like the brumbies have what it takes to be the best in Australia in 2019 and here is Harry with his jingle
Go the brumbies go the brumbies
Go the mighty brumbies mate
We are up by 25 points
Go the brumbies yeseree
We need to win this match my friend
To be the best in oz
And despite those 3 points from Waratahs being the first points
Nothing can drag ACT down
All we need to do is this
Play the best we could
Keep the tahs under pressure mate
Forever que Sara Sara
Go the brumbies kick some ******* ***
Go the brumbies show some ******* class and keep the tahs from scoring
Go brumbies go
Win tonight at bank west
Thank you Harry and now here is Jeanette with her jingle
They said we will never make it
At the start of the year
But we stuck it out all guns blazing
And put pressure on the tahs
You say we are piling pressure on them
Leading 28 to 3
And hopefully we will keep this lead
Go the mighty brumbies
Go the mighty team
Fight hard to make us keep
The lead so it is good for us
Go brumbies go
Thanks Jeanette and now over to the second half go brumbies
Hi everyone and what a win for the brumbies over the Waratahs 35 points to 24 and despite the last try and conversion being from the Waratahs the brumbies still won the Australian conference and now here is Yvonne with her jingle
Go the brumbies
Come on brumbies
We won this great match
It was a great finish for the tahs yeah
But the brumbies played so well
To keep themselves still in the hunt
What a great win
You see the better team won
Oh yeah bow bow
Go the brumbies team
The tahs played alright
But we were the better team
It will ****** seem
Go the brumbies
Thanks Yvonne and now here is ken with his jingle
I am a jingle jangle brumby
With a flippy floppy hat
We scored a great number of points
And showed the tahs who is boss
I am a happy go lucky brumby team
Happier than the other team
We will fight pile on the pressure
Yes yes yes
Jingle jangle brumby playing so well
Better than the other Aussie’s
Playing today
Go brumbies
Thank you ken and this match was a beauty of a match and now here is Joel with a jingle
Waratahs are losers losers losers
Waratahs are losers in the best version of the word
The brumbies played too good too good too good
The brumbies played too good
Too good oh yeah
Yes we will go further further further
Hopefully we will go further
But it might be ****** hard
Waratahs are losers losers losers
They are mighty losers
In the best version of the word
Go brumbies
Thank you Joel and I know it is great to see the brumbies win but the tahs played alright but just weren’t good enough and now we draw the final curtain go brumbies
And now we draw the final curtain
The brumbies won oh yeah
The Waratahs weren’t good enough
But who cares about that
The brumbies are the champions yes they are the champions of the Comp
Go the mighty brumbies go
Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 8:24 AM UTC
You guessed Jeanette
liked that kind of music
viewing her from behind
(at the back of class
sitting next to Reynard)
her head would move
with the music
the Beethoven piece
had her in thrall
or so seemed
seeing her
narrow body frame
slowly move
from side to side
like some
skinny snake
(titless Reynard said
she was)
to some charmer's flute
her head
often times
was recline
to some Chopin
Miss Graham placed
upon the record player
(how old she looked
even then)
and closed her eyes
if you saw her
undressed
Reynard said
(Jeanette
not the teacher)
be like some pencil
thin and shapeless
but there was more
to her to you
something deeper
a certain something
beyond the cloth
of cardigan and skirt
and white blouse
and ankle socks
something of soul
or maybe undefined
that aspect
hanging there
in your 14 year old mind
Reynard whispered
when's this crap
going to end
give me rock
and roll any time
but Jeanette
seemed content
to sit and listen
and move her head
and frame
or wave her thin finger
in the air
as if an invisible
orchestra was there
you viewed her
from the back of class
her dark hair
shoulder length
resting on her back
and narrow frame
the slightly pointed nose
and thin lips
when viewed from profile
when she turned
but secret
like some slow fire
a deeper passion
within you burned.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
I AM STRONG
I have learned the meaning.
Of love. Of heartache. Of loss.
I've grown. Shed dead leaves of sorrow & pain.
My branches have borne heavy loads,
Enjoyed the pleasure of young children swinging, climbing, laughing
Names carved into my heart: "I was here." "Cindy <3 'So & So' 4-eva"
But over the years........the bark expands.........the names slowly fade
My outer skin. of bark grows. thicker, harder to leave your mark
My purpose & appeal ** ** have changed.
I have done ** my very best
To ward off the "termites"
That eat me up inside.
My core, my limbs
Are solid
my roots
run deep
Nourishing
waters
Of truth
in my veins
Holding dear
only The most
important
Ones in my life
Mom Dad
Michael - my brother Jeanette - my sister
Naomi. Lisa. Micaela. Marina. Abby. Caleb.
MY TRUEST & GREATEST LOVE
MY. BEST. FRIEND. JEHOVAH. GOD.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
Jeanette flexed her fingers,
aware her mother
was sitting on the sofa,
her critical eyes and ears alert,
aware Benedict was also there,
beside her mother,
a guest, reluctantly
of her mother.
Play the Schubert
you have been practising,
her mother said.
Jeanette stretched her fingers,
feeling her mother's eyes
were on her, her ears alert
for notes missed,
too fast or slow.
She sat comfortably,
placed her fingers
over the keyboard,
brought her mind to bare
on the Schubert piece.
Benedict sat and gazed
at Jeanette's waist,
the structure
of her slim back,
how her dark hair flowed
over her shoulders.
He didn't know
Schubert from Mozart
or if it was fast or slow.
Jeanette began.
Her fingers moved
as the brain dictated.
Her ears acute
for tone and timbre.
She wondered if Benedict
was gazing at her.
She imagined his breath
on her neck as he had
that time she played him
the Beethoven piece
in the empty classroom,
his hands around her waist,
and still she kept
the piece going.
Slower here,
her mother said,
the tone's slightly off.
Benedict recalled the kiss
on her neck in class that time.
Lips on her soft skin,
but still she played
with eyes closed
as if she prayed.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 4:29 PM UTC
I'm a half broke horse,
like the ones Jeanette Walls wrote about.
Half tamed: Half the trouble
But half of me's still spirited and independent,
Obdurate.
I do me, and I don't do rules.
I don't know what shaped me
Maybe the fact I had life
Come at me too early.
Dealing with endless hate
between my family,
Scars to deep on a 14 year old.
Or maybe it's because
every time I get myself into
some terrible ****
it always turns out better than
expect.
Maybe cause I'm secretly
Lucky,
I secretly rebel, but always half good.
Always half attentive and abiding.
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
I don't understand
why more people aren't following,
fanning, stalking, whatever word
they use here on HP.
Your words are sharp,
titanium thorns
made out of the edge.
I admire your work,
and the courageousness
echoing behind..... . .. . . . . . . . .
You're a lot more optimistic than you think you are.
Don't be afraid to let that shine through..... ... .. . . . . . . . . . . .
Apr 11, 2012
Apr 11, 2012 at 12:16 AM UTC
I stood next to Jeanette
on the sports field
it was sports day
and she was in
her gym skirt and top
and I was in
black sports shorts
and a white shirt
what are you in?
I asked
she looked at me
100yards run
and a relay
she said quietly
are you any good?
I asked
I can run ok
her friend Angela
next to her
a blonde haired girl said
she's fast
is she now?
I said
yes
Angela said
she'll get us house points
that's for sure
what are you in then?
Jeanette asked
I’m down for the 100 yards
that's all
and that was a mistake
as I didn't mean to run
as fast in the trials
but the other kids
were so slow
she nodded her head
and said
but at least
you'll get your house
some points
I couldn't careless
about house points
I said
she looked away
a race was about to start
girls were lined up
at the lower end
it's being apart of a team
Jeanette said
doing one's best
if I was in your house
I'd run every race
I said
but you're not
she said
no that's why
I don't give a ****
the girls were off
down the track
a lean tall girl
was ahead of them
a lone tubby girl
brought up the rear
there was cheering ons
and shouts
of COME ON
RUN RUN
from the crowds
I looked at Jeanette
beside me
she was calling out softly
moving her hands
she was thin
and her legs were long
but more shapely
than I’d thought
she looked along
the other end
where the lean girl
came in first
come on
Angela said
and taking Jeanette
by the hand
they ran down
to the line
for the next race
I watched them go
the girl Angela
dumpy and blonde
and Jeanette
thin and tall
with a lovely sway
which I thought
capturing it
in my mind
with my camera eye
would stay with me
all day.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
Lee and Drilona Perry got married at Newark register office late on Saturday afternoon.
They headed to the adjacent Newark Castle after to take photos but, in the meantime, register office staff went home and the gates were locked.
They were rescued along with their 50 guests after an hour and the council has now apologised.
'Wedding to remember'
Mr Perry, from Newark, Nottinghamshire, said he thought it was a joke at first.
"You plan a nice, beautiful wedding that you expect to be the most wonderful day of your life....only to find you get locked in," he said.
"As it started to get dark and the rain started to come down we thought let's wrap this up and get to the function, but the gates were locked."
He said they had been given no explanation as to how it had happened but "it will be a wedding to remember".
"We can laugh about it now. It could've been a lot worse," added Mr Perry.
Jeanette Hall, registration area manager at Nottinghamshire County Council, said they appreciated it "must have been frustrating for all involved".
She said: "Newark and Sherwood District Council lock these gates at around dusk and unfortunately we should have alerted the couple to the possibility that the gates may be locked when they went into the grounds."
She said they were trying to contact the couple to investigate what happened.
read more:www.marieaustralia.com/orange-formal-dresses
www.marieaustralia.com/pink-formal-dresses
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 12:43 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
How do you make light of bad situation
Evolving sexuality?
Wanna go back to the way it use to be,
I'm not appalled in the slightest,
I thought that we'd elevate the highest,
There's no one else I rather love but you,
You made my life a reality,
My hair was short,
Cut like a man,
And even though I didn't like lesbians,
I didn't fully understand,
But the difference in you,
Made it all worth while,
You never fathemed your face,
But I worshipped your smile,
Kissing you was like heaven,
Something I didn't believe,
Until that night at the lake,
When you came out to me,
Couldn't explain what we had going on,
Somethings wrong,
Putting muscle on my emotions love,
it was strong,
I think of us on a daily basis
Whenever your gone,
I see the room is very spacious,
Whenever I hit the ****
Going to school with this smile on my face,
You're the epitome for a better human race,
Butterflies
When you asked me to stay,
Have no reasons for a depressing day,
When I see you,
I realize it will be okay,
Thinking this was all just another phase,
But little did we know the worst was coming our way....
Someone knew
About our little affair,
Told the whole school,
I just couldn't bare,
You stayed home
While I went there,
Holding up their camera phones,
Wait hold up!
**** your ignorant childish laughter,
So what !? I kissed a girl,
Shes my everything
And I promise I would give her the world,
And further more,
I walk with a demon by my side baby,
Swear you can't deny baby,
Popular girls are cheap *****
And *****
Memories are a little slurry,
Feeling like Jeanette McCurdy,
If I don't get out of here,
Gonna act like a different person,
I was never a quiet person,
I just never took no mercy,
I was born with several burdens,
Strong,so that you'll never hurt me,
took me by surprise,
I didn't realize,
I could have went to you,
why did you do it,
why did you do this to me,
they found you hung on a ceiling fan,
I didn't know it affected that bad,
I miss your smile,
everything about you,
love.
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
I sense the touch
of boy's eyes upon
me, said Jeanette,
the touch inches
beneath my skin,
moves along my
veins, ****** at my
heart. I sit and see
the other girls remote,
untouched as I, their
voices gathered like
hens at feed, pecking
their order of who
and must; I hear the
words giggled: kiss
and tell, and touch
and feel, and who did
what to whom, echoing
around the room in
whispers spoken, hid
by hands, eyes betraying
what their voices are saying.
A girl talks of ******
climes, of ***** deeds,
with him, but who is he
for no one tells, just a
lover of girls. I wash
each night to cleanse me
from their touch of words,
their deeds half buried
in my mind's hold; I bathe
and sit and scrub, sensing
the day's grime wash clear
away, hair,arms, hands,
neck and ******* where
they say(and laugh) their
*** boys play. I hear their
words as I sit in class,
whispering, whispering,
who did what to whom
and where and were you
there? I wonder at their
lives, their way of walk
and do and deeds, the want
of love or need of keeping
something back, virginity
not saved not cared for such
as seems when they speak
and sprout it all comes out.
I bathe in water warm and
soapy, scrub my skin to
cleanse them off, the night
spread before me like a dark
gown, the stars blinking eyes,
the moon a ghostly ship on a
dreary sea. I don't think boys
will want of me. I dress as
neat and tight and show no
part that should not be be
seen, I am as yet untouched,
unfingered, unkissed, a
flower in a gloomy meadow,
a blossom in a city site, a
gem(says mother) in a heap
of ***** I sense the touch of
boy's eyes upon my skin, it
bites at me, ****** at nerves
and heart, I want to be undone,
not left alone and torn apart.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 4:49 AM UTC
Jeanette sits
in the class
music's played
Beethoven
sonata
Miss Graham
the teacher
at a grand
piano
thin wire framed
spectacles
her grey hair
in a bun
aged fingers
touching keys
many kids
in the class
sit bemused
others bored
out of brains
smile or smirk
but to her
sitting there
beside blonde
Angela
is transfixed
a new world
opens up
pretty much
like that kiss
stolen quick
by that boy
Benedict
on the field
after lunch
as she sat
all alone
Angela
had gone to
the crapper
(the wrong week
to sort out)
no reasons
were given
just that kiss
on her cheek
soft and damp
then he'd gone
leaving her
as one stung
by a bee
and she watched
as he went
towards school
and she sat
between worlds
old and new
balancing
her hormones
steering clear
of all those
dangerous
hidden rocks
Jeanette moves
to music
around her
her fingers
on the desk
like keyboard
pushing thoughts
of the kiss
from her mind
closing eyes
matching up
Benedict
inwardly
with passion
like one blind.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
outside the ocean waves roared, and Jeanette heard their melody from her bedside.
the clock ticked a quarter to seven, but she’s was already late for work. water dripped off of Richard’s dresser. the bouquet of crimson roses fell over, but the vase wasn’t broken. “I’m leaving you,” was all he said as he packed his final bag.
the roar wasn’t the door slam, but the shatter of the glass frame on the nightstand. it
was a photograph taken the first time she laid eyes on the horizon of the kite beach. it wasn’t long after she remembered saying, “let’s just not go back,” a line she’d recite at her wedding reception.
she thought her dream of living in Cabarete with the love of her life left with the roar
of his plane. that was about sixteen years ago, but she’s still in love. her love was not the one she traveled to paradise with, but paradise itself.
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 9:53 PM UTC
Jeanette was by
the wire fence
leaning against it
her hands
in front of her
resting one
on the other
she watched me
as I came out
of the school door
leading from the side
onto the sports field
her friend Angela
the blonde girl
had gone home
for lunch
why did you kiss me
like that?
she asked
as I went by her
your cheek
was tempting me
I said
so I kissed it
you should have
at least asked
she said
I will next time
I said
looking at her
taking in
her thin frame
and arms
what makes you think
there will be
a next time?
she said
her eyes were dark
like small currents
in cream dishes
I feel lucky
I said smiling
she didn’t smile back
you hang around
with that Rolland boy
don't you?
she said
yes he's a friend
I said
I don't like him
she said
he doesn't like you
much either
I said
he says
you're a titless wonder
she blushed
and looked away
but I like you
I think you have
a certain class
I mean the way you
sit there listening
to all that classical stuff
Miss Graham plays
to us in lessons
while we
are bored brainless
you sit there
in another world
actually enjoying it
she looked at me
I love Beethoven
she said
his music moves me
her eyes settled on me
she played with her fingers
but you ought
to have asked
before kissing
she said
have you told anyone
I kissed you?
no of course not
she said
shame it might do
some good
I said
in what way?
she said
other kids might not
think you so stuffy
and snobbish
I said
she looked
at her well heeled shoes
and white socks
it was only a peck
she said
not a real kiss
it was lips
on cheek skin
I said
wet and warm
she said shyly
there you go
I said
BENNY
Rolland called out
from the sports field
COME ON FOOTIE
best go
I said
see you in class
and I ran off
towards Rolland
and other boys
kicking a ball
maybe a kiss tomorrow
she had said
as I went off
up on the grass
I nodded
and turned away
the sky had brightened
blue skies
had moved off
the dull of grey.
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
Jeanette looked
back at me in class
I was at the back
with Reynard
focusing
on the history lesson
as best we could
the text books open
before us
some colour picture
of a cave man
with a spear
and dressed in fur
and some cave girl
standing beside
looking **** ugly
Reynard said
in whispered breath
Jeanette’s eyes
were focused on me
dark looking
her hair long
and dark
thin hands
and frame
she looked away again
her narrow shoulders
full to view
the teacher
was chalking words
upon the board
sentence
after sentence
in a measured script
I thought about
the quick peck
on Jeanette's cheek
at lunch recess
just so
quick in and out
before she had time
to say or breathe
or feel the affects
to make her swoon
or sick or both
I scribbled
on the exercise page
in untidy scrawl
Reynard muttering
comments
about the cave girl's ****
about hair
under her arms
but I was focused
on Jeanette’s line
of curve
the way her
narrow waist
went in and out
so narrow
I’d get my arms
all about
dark hair
on her shoulders
smooth
well brushed
or combed
the head
at an angle
as if to scrutinize
the writing
on the board
take in the words
and sense
and write it down
in her (I imagined
far finer hand
than mine
going by the smooth
movement
of her fingers and pen)
maybe I could
kiss her again
I thought
some place
some when.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 2:44 AM UTC
you never read my poems.
did you even know I wrote poems?
you knew I wrote short stories.
you wrote with me.
but poetry?
my very soul?
the thing that makes days, weeks, months, years, bearable?
you never read any of it.
you didn't care.
holly jeanette (you loved my middle name) you need to write more!
I wrote tons.
you didn't mean poems.
you meant stories that benefitted you, not me.
you never cared.
I was so afraid to share that big part of myself.
but you never asked.
I dropped subtle hints.
ugh, need a new poetry journal
I prefer poems to stories.
and once, hey babe, wanna read this thing I wrote?
but my poetry never appealed to you.
my poetry didn't do anything for you.
mís poemas te dejaste friá.
you never cared about the thing that made me happiest.
you cared only about the thing that you thought made me happiest, you.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
Go to bed.
Go to sleep.
Talk to God.
Don’t count sheep.
I love you. :)
But don’t forget
That He loves
You more, Jeanette.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
You didn’t tell me, when I found you
That you were the Witch of Dreams,
You conjured spells in your afternoons
Of many and varied scenes.
When late at night put the sun to flight
And the moon rose over the hill,
You’d lie in bed, and you’d lay your head
In the dreams you are dreaming still.
You’d fill my head with colours and dread,
With your images light and dark,
And take my hand on a stretch of sand,
Or dance in a Faery Park,
I never knew if the scenes were you
Or spells, raised up in the mist,
With a goblin, elf, or your own sweet self,
And lips that I’d never kissed.
Your scenes float over the cyber seas
And come to rest in my head,
They take my words from a grim disease
That I may have written or read,
You conjure scenes that are lost in time
And you bring them back to my eyes,
Then I recall, with the tears that fall,
Each love, its time and demise.
Your dreams will ever bewitch me, girl,
Your scenes will tug at my heart,
Whatever spells are in store for me
You’ll send, though we are apart.
We neither dwell in the real world
In truth, for we’ve never met,
But surely, you are the Witch of Dreams
As sure as your name’s Jeanette.
David Lewis Paget
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 4:01 AM UTC
Ten years have passed, Ten, to the day,
Since Cancer took her breath away.
We survivors, left forlorn,
consoled each other as we mourned.
That day a Father lost his child
and was never after seen to smile.
Faith was tested on that day
as each in turn would kneel to pray.
Time, inexorable in its way,
sought to efface our tears away,
as snow and rain and biting wind
efface letters incused in stone.
Time has failed, we can’t forget
the loss of our beloved Jeanette.
We who survive, recall the day,
It’s stifling heat, the lack of air.
The horror of that ringing phone
That brought the tragic news to home.
Ten years have passed, Ten years she’s gone.
Ten years we’ve had to soldier on.
This day we pause to think of then
And weep for all that might have been.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 6:38 AM UTC