Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Unicorns

You recline on the couch,

declining into the ground,

positive that you can patch this up,

presenting your wife with a plaster.

The plaster is petite,

rainbow mane,

your very own unicorn,

ready for anything,

adventuring with anyone,

and she’ll leave a trail of light,

across your life,

seducing smiles back onto broken faces,

that were cracked by boredom,

the monotony of monogamy.

You still don’t talk to your wife,

you don’t acknowledge that night,

that you have both thought of often,

but cannot let escape into the room.

You hide behind your unicorn,

you both enjoy your unicorn,

but you don’t accept that your unicorn,

is not a sex toy,

and not a replacement for couple’s counselling,

but she is a person.

Your unicorn is a person.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Music, Writing

Sincerely, Jennifer x – S04E20 – Playing Pete and Ariana, In Those Early Days

On today’s episode, Jennifer shares some new poems, and talks about the thin line between love and hate, family history and identity, dealing with sadness, how manufactured outrage runs the world, and her thoughts on the UK’s Eurovision entry.

Jennifer also updates you on the recent events in British politics, including Yorkshire Tea Gate, Richard Burgon’s big idea for revolutionising political education, the DUP baiting the LGBT community, yet again, Tory MPs getting their bits out for the lads (and ladettes), the fallout from the Westminster abuse inquiry and Rebecca Long Bailey being dragged for… *checks notes* doing nice things for her son.

You can find the new episode on your favourite podcast provider here, and you can find the episode guide for Sincerely, Jennifer x here.

Season 4

Besos,

J x



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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, politics, Writing

Treehouse

The sun sings in the sky,

watching us wake,

from the same spot every morning.

I communicate behind closed doors,

thinking out loud,

chatting to a picture of us,

thinking of the past,

back when things were so simple,

when you saw me as your sunlight,

before I became an endless evening,

dark secretive shadows,

that you fear.

My heart has always been here,

with you,

it did not originate from the internet,

or a foreign land.

My love is not a virus,

or a death sentence,

it shines too bright to bring shame,

but all the same,

you send it away,

praying for the return of somebody I never was.

I’m not like this because you broke me,

but I am broken by the way you left.

I am broken by my journey,

but I am fixing myself.

I climbed a new family tree,

because I was pushed from the one you invited me into.


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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Movies, Writing

R+E

Scratch your fever into the forest.

Parted from the heart she longed for,

settling for cold concrete,

soft but sombre surroundings,

the forest,

now a pessimistic plank will understand.

She will know the truth,

that he was cute,

the moment you met him.

She will know

that you still loved him,

even when his face,

was a distant,

nervous memory,

a tapestry,

of all the things you feared

but fantasied about most,

she will listen,

if you let her.

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Scratch your fever into the forest,

bring your love,

bring your joy,

let her share your secret,

wearing your hidden heartbreak with pride,

decorated in the desires you wept over.

Let her be the bank you swim to,

when you are done drowning in his last words to you.

Scratch your fever into the forest,

and she will tell you that you were never sick in the first place.


Read My Books

Hear My Music

Hear My Podcast

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Virgin Vogue
Sad Girl’s Love Song
Drowning In Us

COME FIND ME
Twitter
Soundcloud
Instagram
Ask Jen

Facebook
Patreon

Tumblr
Amazon

Podcast
Spotify

YouTube
Rumbl
Email Me