"jessy" poems
181 to 200 of 3251 Poets
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Joelle Biele
To Katharine: At Fourteen Months
Veronica Patterson
Marry Me
Rick Campbell
Heart
Mary-Sherman Willis
The Laughter of Women
Sharmila Voorakkara
For the Tattooed Man
Max Mendelsohn
Ode to Marbles
Jonathan Holden
Car Showroom
David Tucker
The Dancer
Today’s News
Marianne Boruch (b. 1950)
It includes the butterfly and the rat, the ****
Some dreamily smoke cigarettes, some track
Trish Dugger
Spare Parts
Carrie Shipers
Medical History
Love Poem for Ted Neeley In Jesus Christ Superstar
Steven Huff
Safe
Lee McCarthy
Santa Paula
William Kloefkorn
"I stand alone at the foot "
Jackson Wheeler
How Good Fortune Surprises Us
Steven Orlen (1942–2010)
Three Teenage Girls: 1956
In the House of the Voice of Maria Callas
Steven Schneider
Chanukah Lights Tonight
Jessy Randall
Superhero Pregnant Woman
Anne Pierson Wiese (b. 1964)
Inscrutable Twist
Columbus Park
Regina DeSalva
Snip Your Hair
«891011»
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
*yeah, let's compose the alphabet in music for each letter we try to sound like a wine bottle cork unplugged from vintage; it won't work, i known, but it might get a few skidding on gizmo go go, trying to democratise iran: try turning iran sunni first, you, you defrosted snowman worth a carrot and two chalk coal ******** writing: hardboiled into sight of believable. oh here comes a white man talking privy aloud with the rapper loosing breath, but keeping it up and replacing the pelvic hinges with easy, drool, rhymes; a kind of rubric tablature of scores for rodeo with alternative sounds to: moo, ow, ah, broomstick shoo, take the cow for a milking home from the dead bull dazzled into genesis on t.v.; or that other literati spectator sport of not reading but talking oneself into academic bibliography for an intro.*
the great thing about being an alcoholic...
you never quiet know
when you're drunk or hungover;
but it makes up for great twilight sunsets
pooh lonely; ah ooh smooch -
kisses a honey stick stuck to ****
in a hollywood crescendo of
paparazzi and applause;
and anorexia; and dyslexic oiling for a facelift:
that's called smiling i have you know -
enter michael jackson - hippie hip he;
if i die aged thirty, i'll be happy to have
been frisky twenty-nine into a thong.
*or, alt., tell ****** about the swimming pool and the tadpole kenyans sprinting into impregnated landownerships of priests: sounds like this: pst - herr führer - die schwimmin poolst erst niener jessy ovens geeignet. no one said that african buttocks couldn't bayou the ships ashore, but they did; what?! i'm not the 12" dangle! you keep up racism, i'll keep up mozart's austria; alt. please see how censoring adjectives in relation to objects gives you a false moral subjectivity that's only a matter of pleasantries.*
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
There is a mystic thread of life
So dearly wreath’d with mine alone,
That Destiny’s relentless knife
At once must sever both, or none.
There is a Form on which these eyes
Have fondly gazed with such delight—
By day, that Form their joy supplies,
And Dreams restore it, through the night.
There is a Voice whose tones inspire
Such softened feelings in my breast,—
I would not hear a Seraph Choir,
Unless that voice could join the rest.
There is a Face whose Blushes tell
Affection’s tale upon the cheek,
But pallid at our fond farewell,
Proclaims more love than words can speak.
There is a Lip, which mine has prest,
But none had ever prest before;
It vowed to make me sweetly blest,
That mine alone should press it more.
There is a ***** all my own,
Has pillow’d oft this aching head,
A Mouth which smiles on me alone,
An Eye, whose tears with mine are shed.
There are two Hearts whose movements thrill,
In unison so closely sweet,
That Pulse to Pulse responsive still
They Both must heave, or cease to beat.
There are two Souls, whose equal flow
In gentle stream so calmly run,
That when they part—they part?—ah no!
They cannot part—those Souls are One.
1.1k
Pale Moon Light
Written by:
Jessy Andrews
5-4-2010
9:29 PM CST
Poem 13
Into the night I again go.
Faint light touches my skin.
No shadow do I cast.
Haunting only to those who bother to cast an eye upon me.
What they see will burn deep into their memory.
How long will it last?
That is for the one who cast the eye on me to determine.
I again become a child
This is where I once made my mark.
The night time world was once caught unexpected.
It embraced me then as it embraces me still.
In it was the strength to heal.
I go back into it now for the same reason.
Pain, it’s a constant in life.
It’s cold, staying sharp as a double bladed knife.
Such a strange energy and feeling comes from this power.
Opening these arms to it I am.
I merely await the witching hour.
My eyes are trained to stay focused upon a darkening sky.
Breathing in the oncoming nights air.
Taking on a very pure high.
I want to go out and dance among the stars.
Melt away all of my past scars.
All of my past fears.
Encompass me within the soft breath of night.
For now I am it’s child.
I walk out into it and take a deep breath in.
I sense a storm coming in.
I release the breath and feel tingling underneath my skin.
As others pass me by my eyes stay focused on the darkened sky.
The faint light that now graces my presence.
It will soon disappear into total and complete blackness.
I’ll stand in it as the thunder roars.
I’ll get soaked as the rain caresses the ground.
Into the night I will now stay.
Moving silently, I will not make a sound.
Others presences and thoughts are mine to haunt.
Without the light of the moon they are my victims.
They are mine to haunt.
Jul 3, 2010
Jul 3, 2010 at 11:52 PM UTC
Hey Jessy
You and Honey were always besties
The way you played around
Jumped and bounced on the ground
Always looked so young
That same puppy that we once brought home
I remember that day very clear
It feels oh so near
The first thing you did was hide from us
Until I went and made a fuss
You sat under that tree for hours on end
I remember sitting there making you happy
And all you did was be snappy
Our friendship grew from that moment
You never understood how much it meant to me
The little piece of my heart you stole
You will stay with me for ever
Me and you we went through everything together
If feels so strange to say that you have left us now
How can that be; you were always so strong
Why can't your life still be here and long
You were always so timid to new people
But once you got to know them they were like treacle
I remember the day you first attacked the letters
You were so funny but so naughty
I remember the day that Tilly past away
You stayed so strong but showed your heart
Just like the way you loved Honey from the start
Jess you character oh so different
But that's what made you who you were
To be special to me takes real might
I will always remember you as being the one that went down with a fight
I have put you into writing so that you will never be forgot
Faces of new and faces of old will always remember you as Jessy Kilsby-Steele
Jessy I will always love and remember you and your beauty
~AlphaX
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
Blistered Heart
Written by:
Jessy Andrews
5-3-2010
1:34 PM CST
Poem 8
This pain is loud and very much alive.
I wish I could say I know not where it comes from.
But, I can’t. It’s made itself quite obvious.
I wish it would just let me go numb.
I know what it is. It’s the rock hard fist of reality.
Reminding me that it was me that made a decision.
One that needs to be followed through all the way.
Giving me absolute reason and leaving me with nothing to say.
Is my world falling apart?
Or is it just following the rhythm of this blistered heart?
I don’t like having to make tough decisions.
But, neither does anybody else that I’m aware of.
The Universe tells me the time to move on has come.
It tells me I’ll have the support that I’ll need.
So why must I still bleed?
Hardships said to be coming my way.
Only is it me that sees them only as an illusion.
A reflection of growing into the future self.
For a being that lives in the sunlight of the Now.
A reflection such as that is hard to swallow.
But it is the way of making this being more secure.
Secure in finally being my own person.
It is to the stars that I pray.
Pray for the strength to face this new vision that’s not so far away.
My time has come. My time is here.
To fulfill my own prophecy.
The one I’ve ran from. The one that has fed into my fear.
Burying myself so deep into the darkest of my shadow.
A claim to the energies of something chaotic.
No I must embrace them.
May the flame again rise in me.
Revitalizing this heart so blistered.
ÓMinistries of the Chaotic Publishing Inc.
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 10:24 PM UTC
Write You Out
Written by:
Jessy Andrews
8-10-2010
11:07 AM CST
Poem 18
This is the last time I will write about or to you.
This is the last time I will ever have anything to say.
It is now time that I submit to writing you out.
It is now time to erase your manifestation from mine.
It’s taken me three long months to admit I’m fine.
Three long months I’ve had to come to terms, come to peace.
I watched as you started wasting away.
I counted the days to the time I could make what we had cease.
I don’t hold a grudge against you.
I just want nothing more to do with you.
I don’t care what you think about me.
I don’t care how you feel about me.
I have merely released myself by setting you free.
Yes! You abused the love I so willingly gave.
You were that hard lesson I was hoping I would never have to learn.
Your touch isn’t a memory I want to save.
Think me cold, think me harsh, think me mean.
Keeping you around wasn’t worth the hurt and pain I was accumulating.
With you I was becoming too weak and too vulnerable.
A future we weren’t allowed, we were too busy be complicated.
This is the only time I recall my heart and mind working as one.
Now don’t look for me. Don’t come and find me.
The damage is done. The illusion has died.
I eventually saw you for who you were.
In me you found it too difficult to confide.
That unfortunately was half your undoing.
The other half was your multitude of lies.
Some day I will be able to forgive you.
Some day I won’t feel so cold.
Right now that doesn’t matter and I must heal with time.
I wash you out of me.
Your energies I no longer own.
I’m taking much pride in surviving alone.
No longer will I be inhibited.
No longer am I a boy too easily fooled.
Too many shadows of former selves do I have.
What it is that you really saw of me I’ll never truly understand.
Too long I’ve let you have the upper hand.
I’ve said my goodbye.
I’ve released you from my heart.
This is the last thing I have to say to you.
How to love me you had no real clue.
Hopefully life for you will some day be worth your while.
Hopefully without me you’ll be able to bear a smile.
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 5:34 PM UTC
Regret
Written by:
Jessy Andrews
2-25-2010
1:24 AM CDT
Poem 3
I feel no real emotion towards regret.
To me it’s not really an emotion.
It’s merely a darker part of creation.
A darker part of the spirit.
The darker part where only self loathing breeds.
Where all that will destroy feeds.
Not a pretty place.
Regret, if left unattended finds its way to the brain.
Once there it becomes like a fungus.
Hard to ignore, much harder to get rid of.
It penetrates and grows heading straight into the blood stream.
In the beginning when your first in its grasp it feel likes a very bad dream.
I don’t allow any place for it.
There’s simply no room.
If it tries to enter it instantly gets a access denied.
No room for its seed to grow into a bloom.
Like a wound if given no oxygen to breathe.
It will merely just disappears.
Evaporating like the rain left from a storm that ends suddenly dissipating in the sky as it clears.
That is the freedom from regret.
It’s just a word.
It truly holds no real power.
Only those who believe in it allows it to exist.
And when they open the door it becomes harder to close.
I’ve watched as this has happened countless times.
I’ve watched as it has come to haunt those close to me.
The mystery of why they allow this to happen remains unsolved.
Regret in itself should be dissolved.
But, it’s exposure is very much on a wide range.
Reluctant it is of course to merely change.
It’s a part of our human condition.
A part of our governing psyche.
Breathing in its toxic breath.
Following us into our very moment of death.
I refuse its company.
A key it is to the very corer of depression.
An emotion in itself is strong enough to ****
I feel no emotion to this thing called regret.
Complete I become still without.
It’s place within me has no residence.
Look inside and what you’ll find is such clear evidence.
©Ministries of The Chaotic
May 1, 2010
May 1, 2010 at 9:09 PM UTC
Never Again
Written by:
Jessy Andrews
6-25-2010
11:24 AM CST
Poem 15
Walking into a new day.
For the first time in my life I’m truly terrified.
Don’t really know why.
I’ve spent all year preparing for this.
But this morning I woke up with a new feeling.
My perception of my own life came back.
Something inside did finally click.
Putting me back on track.
Truth be known I am perfectly able of healing my own wounds.
I let darkness come back over me.
In solitude I gave no reason as to why.
It hurt and it was very uncomfortable.
Spiritually I began to suffer and that in itself is a very cold way to die.
Been looking to the moon.
Asking her to shed some wisdom.
Quit reminding me of where I’ve been.
Educate me on where I am going.
In stillness I must allow myself to go again.
There is a peace still worthy of knowing.
I’m far from ready to give up.
Far from read to just let go.
To live naturally I must again practice.
The need for immediate reaction I need to sacrifice.
Life works on its own terms.
Right now I need to be a follower.
Running away and escaping is not an option.
A guardian to myself I am now.
Sacred energies I must now again contact.
From the outside world I am no longer its to distract.
Anybody that comes into my life understand one thing.
This moment in time I am a walking evolution.
I will not be side tracked again.
I will now induce my energy transfusion.
For me there is no final destination.
Even beyond the grasp of death.
My comprehension is limitless.
I will not ever again be stripped and be made powerless.
Some say you are your own enemy.
Some say you are your own greatest threat.
I don’t totally agree.
I still have yet to witness another pitiful downfall.
Now that my vision has come back intact.
The path now again illuminates with the colors of my never forgotten neon vision.
As the colors bleed back into me.
It is forever my right. It is forever my privilege to embrace my life that’s free,
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 7:58 PM UTC
hey jessy if you were here,
what would you say right now,
would you pat my back and stay,
until the dawn comes around?
hey jessy would you let a tear,
for all the nights i cried?
i think your story is as sad,
behind your broken smile.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 7:27 PM UTC
I finally found you
The world will never be the same
Before you
I was in endless game
I was in endless pain
I felt no shame
But I wasn't fine
I was the one to blame
I wish I could even know your name
Now I have my pearl
A very beautiful girl
I love you no matter you do
I miss you all the time
Come next to me
Come and be mine
Let my life shine
My heart is full of joy
Full of love like a baby boy
Jessy, be with me
Stay with me
Hold me
Kiss me
Hug me
Love me
I will be wherever you will be
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
Jessy
is
a fine
laddie boy
and
Jaime
is
a good
lassie girl
stop here
and
rest awhile
make yourself at home
in
the
green hills of Ireland
but
not to worry
your
weary heads
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 10:17 AM UTC