"jensen" poems
"The most important piece of technology in any classroom is the second hand of the clock. The purpose is to teach millions of students the identical prayer: Please God, make it move faster."
Derrick Jensen
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
Dear Jensen Ackles,
Thank you for being the man with the impala
The one who's character's brother is Sam Winchester and who Castiel's love interest is
Who happens to be the one I try to look like as a trans person
As well as your character Dean Winchester
Thank you for being one of the reasons I will "ALWAYS KEEP FIGHTING"
Mar 28, 2022
Mar 28, 2022 at 9:39 AM UTC
I am a Fuster Cluck
I am mother-duck
Color my medically mental psychiatriosis
Red-blue-purple
Snowball my eyeballs into your throat-hole
"I never asked for this," said Adam Jensen's blow-hole.
I feel best self medicated on that fire-water's chest
Feel my insides warm as my outsides loosen
I may explodinate my thought bubble-quotient
I'm sick of being in my head
Worrying about you, worrying about life
Worrying
Lay it at the foot of the cross
I know which one
So why am I sitting here holding all my problems in my arms
Cradling them like a small child?
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
Daniel raced some ****** in the year of the monkey
For a brand new set of vintage strings
Beat the ****** real easy, took the vintage guitar
And smiled “hey man it’s just one of these things”
Placed the guitar over his shoulder, like a baby he held her
Closed his eyes and played some chords
With the chords came some lyrics, in the darkness he sat
In the center of Jensen Grand Concert Hall
The ghost on the piano, she preformed a haunting solo
Behind him was a phantom band
In front a phantom crowd
In the pre-warm up show, he rocked the empty old concert hall stand
Outside some kids from Coltman,
Drinking some beer and just smoking some crack
He and the phantom band headed home
Past the house of the Pocatello Nymphomaniac
Daniel walked up the stairs, sat on his chair, pulled out his guitar and played
Next door the neighbors sat with their ears to the wall listening to the midnight serenade
The old boy across the road in Jasmine Street opened the window, to hear the guitar crying
Listening to the sound of the junkies strings and the, silent neighbors smiling
In the morning he was still playing, his fingers red, they were getting tired,
The audience next door exhausted on the floor but, still smiling
Now back to the grand concert hall for his first ever gig, and the posters all around the town
Read Daniel and his 6 ****** strings are going to bring the house down
The local poet society, were reciting poetry to me, empty chairs in the hall, I stand on the stage looking for familiarity,on this day I’ve waited for
The first ones through the door were the neighbors who made love to my music
Tears still in their eyes from last night’s show, they took my gift of music and abused it
And the man from down the block he’s here too he shouted “Daniel this world needs more **** musicians like you”
Fat Shane from Mobile Alabama who’s just come out the slammer on day release to just see me
Soon the hall’s filled with 1200 faces all crowded in this space but there’s just 2 empty seats
One is for my mother who’s 3 years passed and told me son always follow your dreams
And the others for the ****** and the Monkey who lost the race and gifted these vintage strings to me
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 12:06 PM UTC
and at the end of this session, i'm going to gorge on homemade banana cake, and a glass of milk; hmm, so that's that.
hannah hallysem, chloe vevrier, rosalia verne, dakota skye, nadine jansen, milena d., katrina jade, alison tyler, sasha foxxx, noelle easton, shay fox, kourtney kane, aletta ocean, lexi belle, aria giovanni, maritza mendez, silvia loret, laura lion, ashley graham, latex lucy, alexis texas, dana dearmond, abella danger, karmen karma, jezebelle bond, keisha grey, karmen grey, jelena jensen, carmen croft, aneta buena, ines cudna, ewa sonnet, emma green, louisa marie, ivy nedkova, karolina pliskova, emma green, louisa marie, ivy nedkova, rooney mara, claire forlani, kelley scarlett, malina may, amirah adara, phoenix marie, foxy di., kenya lust, kiera winters, christy mack, paige delight, faith nelson, darya klishina, sand morris, alysha newman, silvia saint, adele stephens, deven davis, ewa wyrwal, tanya song, synn wagner, christina lucci, hunter leigh, lynda leigh, gemma atkinson, mulani rivera, sarah harding...
all those "expectations" mingling with a babuska...
gotta have a babuska after a list like that...
looks nice, doesn't it?
see how honest other people can become...
that's as honest as you're going to get:
i'm hardly an out-of-the-closet gay / intellectual...
and this is hardly the most desireds genetical "encyclopedia"
worth reciting...
but at least there's no closet,
and certainly no skeleton in it...
to be honest, i'd love to see a compendium of
a woman's favourite *****
oh sure, i can switch off...
i just start thinking about cow *******
and milk sacks; not that hard;
ugh... furr... itchy... stroking a cow is like
scratching your skin after the barbers...
milking a cow: ah... another subject
of investigation...
why do men not bother being
breast-fed, to out-compete the babe?
seems a shame to leave a vacuum for
capitalism to not investigate, don't you think?
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 10:01 PM UTC
a phone call
from area code 772.
Jensen Beach, FL.
a retreat beside the waves.
a refuge built
so far away
to keep you safe
and help you
recuperate.
i slide my thumb across the screen,
busting the chains of my purgatory.
you pause briefly,
right before you say, "Hello, Pearson."
your inflection hangs
on my name,
as if to hold me
in your mouth.
i linger in your lungs
like the smoke
from your favorite
cigarettes.
when you breathe
me out, i hear the sigh
of relief, signaling how much
you'd hoped i'd pick up.
you say, "so,
tell me something new."
a detail i neglected to include
in one of the daily letters
i'd sent to you. absently,
i search for a subject.
anything. but all
that comes to mind
is, "god, you've no idea
how much i've missed you.
it's so good to hear you speak."
five minutes. that's all.
i wish i'd had more time.
i would've used my tongue
to gently ply
your contours
and tantalize your mind.
i once built a home
inside your psyche.
a dragon usurped my throne,
but only temporarily.
i returned with an army
of those who'd die
to liberate you.
so permit me to feed
your creativity,
enabling your addiction
to my free-verse.
don't mind me
as i continually use
my poetry to clean
up the place.
i'll weave you a tapestry
of multicolor. you've kicked
the habit, but you still fancy
the way my lyrics get
your knees knocking,
your body quaking.
you couldn't quit me
even if you wanted to.
so, i'll remain
in the secret places
of your brain, building bridges
across rivers of synaptic gaps
until, one day,
you'll find me spray-painting graffiti
in your dopamine cathedral.
you'll ask, "after all this time?"
and i'll say, "always."
i'll plant new seeds
until i run out of letters
to string together. with each
polyrhythmic twirl,
a dexterous melody
will exacerbate your ecstasy,
each stanza a slick finger
slipping beneath
your skin, leaving you
calling out my name again.
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 8:05 AM UTC
i think jensen and i have a whirlwind of fuckedupness.
he is a boy and i am a ?????
but because we are both perceived as females,
in the ********* state,
we can get kicked out of stores.
jesus,
i swear we're a straight couple.
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 9:05 AM UTC
My dear Jensen you’re so important to me
Ever since I saw you as the hunter that smiled with glee.
You came into my life at seventeen years old.
I knew on my heart you had a hold.
You make my days brighter and I love your smile.
I hope one day we may talk for awhile.
Talk about how much you mean to me words can't even say.
I really hope I get to meet you someday.
You really helped me with my depression
Because of you my days are brighter without question.
I really love you. I hope you know that’s true.
Every time I feel blue I just think of you.
How you would tell me It’s all gonna be okay.
You would tell me there’s always a way.
I admire you so much. The things you’ve done.
I know your soul shines brighter then the sun.
You’ll always be in my heart for the rest of my days.
Because of you I know I’m gonna be okay.
Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 7:34 PM UTC
Have you any idea what it's like to be a prisoner of your own mind?
To fly and meet the colors that belong to your surroundings
Only to realize that you brought with you the darkness you've known since childhood
And drag you back to that terrifying, sulking corner on the street
Where your unreasonable thoughts take shape like a rusted chain
You're caught. Loud but inaudible, brittle yet unbreakable.
I continue what I started yesterday and for a while, I forget what's living on my nape
I grab a pen and a piece of paper and fill it with fluttering colors and sunshine
But like the ever-present clouds above that block the rays, warmth gives way to the cool breeze
Something I can never avoid for it is as a natural as having coffee in a hazy morning
Or the tranquility that exists when you're halfway through the storm
I'm back to square one and again and I wonder, will this ever end? Or must I flip the switch myself?
Meet Gabby, Jensen and Monique, masters of teamwork. They always take care of me
Running to my side on the first sign of danger, not to save me from it but to push me to it
I try to fight back and paint them white rectangles
But they have a strong hold of me like a baby receiving its bottle of milk since last night
Eventually, I stop trying and I guess they thought it's no fun to torture me if I don't care at all
And so they pack their bags and I say to them, "See you around."
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
My space
Room 32
November 21
Call me WonderWoman
Meet my nurses Laurie, and Nikki
Dr. Jensen
Internal Medicine
My story
I grew up in a log cabin
Didn't have no medicine
Maine woods
Never really sick
Except for with ticks
The oldest of 5
We're all insane
Want fame and a name
Important to me
And then there we're 3
In my family
I love, my love
To travel, read, and write
Stay out of fights
Play the game called Life
My goals by the golden shoals
Write a poetry pose daily
Write a book then maybe
Travel the globe
And grow old with a hottie
Make me some latte
Don't forget my space, my story, my goals
It's important to me
To make lots of noise
Raise some joy
Question about my cares?
Don't I dare?
Where to start?
When to finish?
When can I go home?
Another night
Alone
Another needle
*****
No thank you
I just wanna hold my Nya
It breaks my heart
To be so far
Yet very near
So hold on dear
This too shall pass
When we get to go home
At last.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
Brother
see I love you
till the end of time
come home
I won't look back
if you promise to look forward
P(ain)hotographs
they're so old
let's take new ones
tell me how you're doing
brother
protector
fighter
lover
you had it hard
let's fight once more
I'll read you a story
like you used to read to me
no one else can take your place
you are still my brother
you are gone in the desert
adventures
you are having adventures
I like to believe
you are happy
with loved ones
if only
you hadn't drunk so much
brother
I love you
come home
you don't have to bring the bottle
don't bring the bottle
curse the bottle
brother.
'till the end of time
I'll be waiting
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
In a dream the word found me.
“Absolution” took my hand and brought me to tears
in a coffee shop.
Here’s to achieving illusive (and blatantly present) forgiveness!
To start
let me make myself worthy of grace.
I’ll be a bicycle tire left alone during winter, but now needed in the spring.
Would that be ok?
Now I’ll be a bouncy castle waiting
to be purchased for the hour
eager to please
quick to quadruple in size
easy to get lost in.
Next I’ll spin my own mythology,
would you like that?
So as Strabo immortalized Orpheus
Jensen immortalizes Jensen.
“I walked to and from school uphill both ways in the rain”
but
my truth is Swiss Cheese
carried in torn pockets
completely and unflinchingly real.
Here’s to forgiveness for others,
uplifting;
something special, easy and
a hand-written letter you
clutch close to your chest
not letting go until you and only you put it in your lovers mailbox.
Here’s to forgiveness of self
(once viewed as one views making a trillion dollars,
or being able to carry [your] my house
with [you] me
wherever I would wander)
and here’s to forgiving
to reliving myself of pain,
not a pardon
not an acquittal
but an opportunity to notice I am human and understand what that means.
Now at the end of this journey the ever-dawning sun of immortal love has broken my clouds, and here I am and here you are and here’s to accepting forgiveness!
So with an opened heart and sharpened mind
I’ll find the word again or let it find me
and choose to feed myself
what I earnestly feed others.
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 4:12 PM UTC