Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Planting Roses

No bars to break,

but here I am,

surrounded by searching space,

a prisoner,

encased in ivy,

that I have imagined,

grew side by side,

with the roses we planted.

 

 

I never knew my charge,

but I was sentenced to be sped,

back to the real world,

on several delayed trains,

with barely there air conditioning,

and piece by piece,

I felt each flower fall,

all around me.

 

 

The empty, invisible walls tell tales,

and I can’t tell which voice is yours,

anymore,

because the rain still falls,

and the wind still wails,

but I’m not sure they’re really there.

I’m not sure where it hurts,

I just know that it does,

and I know why it does,

even if that isn’t “proper science”.

 

I don’t know if you’ll wait for me,

or how long you’d have to wait,

but I know I need you to.

I remember this kind of crying,

thirteen,

Hastings beach,

knowing my world wouldn’t fit into a quaint country village,

not just the bright lights,

I had dreamed of,

for as long as I knew how to dream,

but a love.

I wanted a love,

that I couldn’t yet describe,

and maybe never could.

 

 

Again,

twenty three,

pausing at Preston,

with my heart in my throat,

poking it’s way out,

with razor blades and regret,

knowing it had found the love,

but not the words,

to explain how essential it was.

 

 

It never ends,

it only eases,

until it doesn’t,

and then,

I am back behind bars,

that cannot be broken,

by anything but,

freedom to be locked away,

planting roses,

with you,

and watching your excited eyes,

as we we wait for them to grow.

 

img_1926.jpg

I could walk away,

at any second,

out the door,

into the sunset,

under a train,

but with each step,

the chains of my choice,

and the punishment it brings others,

would grow heavier,

until my legs broke,

and my torso wept.

 

 

Give me rain,

or sun,

or death.

Give me some way,

to make each moment just a moment,

rather than a reminder,

that I have a life,

and a job,

and a whole realm of responsibilities,

that don’t include planting roses,

with you,

and watching your excited eyes,

as we we wait for them to grow.

 

 

Give me hope,

that one day,

I will find a time,

when I can survive on the inside,

and see it more as the outside,

real life,

my life,

without you.

 

 

Tell me that I’ll survive,

even if you’re lying,

or,

better yet,

lie down,

keep my side of the bed warm,

rain roses from the roof,

petals,

settled in the sheets,

growing strong under bright lights,

waiting for me to make parole.

 

 

I’ve found the words now.


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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

New Video: Summer Sun

Hola amigos,

You can now check out the video for one of my recent poems, Summer Sun.

 

Besos,

J x


Enter The Poetry Competition here

Order “Kissing Boys, Just For The Thrill” here

Order “Stormy Weather” here

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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

New Video: Cherry Coke

Hola amigos,

You can now check out the video for Cherry Coke.

I hope you enjoy it.

Besos,

J x


Enter The Poetry Competition here

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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Twenty Two Forever

Twenty two forever,
on the 21st,
crowned by carnations,
late in life prom queen,
balancing along the beams,
of the blue sky.

I hear you call to me,
on your birthday,
on our first day,
on her anniversary,
your mouth still and shut.
Everybody is texting and talking.
We’re alone,
at last.

I fall down,
hoping to hang myself
on your aged arms,
so you can see twenty two again.
Clear and clean,
still dreaming,
daring to dance in dirt,
covered in blood,
but free of bruises and scars,
like you used to be.
Maybe this time,
it will be forever.

I’m still alive,
blue butterfly,
caught in a net,
of lace dresses,
human hair,
hurried heartbeats.

Tell yourself it’s just tonight,
tangled with me,
and my teasing.
We’ll throw the calendar
from the highest floor,
and time will be tempted by our young, dumb smiles,
to leave us in our lace, lust mess.

blue carnations jennifer juan butterfl.jpg

Maybe this time,
we will be together.
Forever.
Together.
Whatever.
Whatever.

It’s hard to talk,
when you kiss me.

My crown is dying,
faster than either of us expected.
I’m thrown from my throne,
to my knees,
caressing your calves,
snaking around your sense of gravity,
still alive,
learning to be a melted ice queen,
who can belong to you,
without feeling I am no longer my own.

Forever.
Together.
Whatever.
Whatever.

It’s hard to think,
when you’re near me.

I’m still alive.
I’m still yours.
I’m still mine.
Twenty two forever.
Alone, at last.
Yours, at last.


Enter The Poetry Competition here

Order “Kissing Boys, Just For The Thrill” here

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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Pepsi Cola

Just when I thought it was over,
melancholy under the moon,
I decided I was tired of missing you,
so I tore off my clothes,
my past,
and sank into silk sheets,
ready for one last drink,
before bidding goodbye,
to my dreams of you.
Just when I thought it was over,
I choked on my Pepsi cola,
my throat slinking around oxygen,
cobra crush,
crimson cheeks.

Panic.
Panic.
Panic.

pepsi cola jennifer juan 2

I thought I was going to die.
Orchid across your shoulders.
I never meant to see your shoulders.
I fall beneath them,
my eyes sewn shut,
to avoid your own,
but still I cannot resist you.

I thought I was going to die,
and I realised,
the breathlessness,
the helplessness,
the panic.
Panic.
Panic.

It reminded me of when I look at you,
and it was not over.
It would never be over.

I wish I had choked to death.


Enter The Poetry Competition here

Pre Order “Kissing Boys, Just For The Thrill” here

Order “Stormy Weather” here

Order “Last Of The Greenwich Glamour Girls” here

Order “The Things We Did Last Summer” here

Order “Home Wrecker” here

Listen to”Past Preston” here

Listen to “2AM” here

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Notes To My Muse
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