[x]

AstrologicalI have lost myself to
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.

Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).

Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.

lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
uncompromisingly
desperate to shine.

ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
unworthy tongue.

iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.

iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.

v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."

The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming arms of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment I didn't hear you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along

Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for?
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude

False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen

ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).

False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams,
strangled by weeds, face down in the ground
with no roses to mourn them.

Singers are poets that croon
(if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)
and poets are false prophets -
true love will last forever
if they care to write it,
but not if you swallow the lines...

yet, they always do.

We all have a place
set for us in the shade
in our own private garden of weeds.

False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for

VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymes
By the people in their endless time
As the morning dew breaks the day
Back to where the city-lights once laid

The lamp-posts are filled with black starlight
As the children run in their flight
With cries of sorrow, cries of pain
The old houses creaking with disdain

Acidic puddles of blood-wet tears
Remain on the street through all these years
As the cracks have hid the crumbled dust
Within these roads of bone and rust

The melody of the birds is lost
To the screeches and screaming loss
There are people cowering in the dark
Murmuring, whispering their tortured remarks

Flames ignite the world in fire

Lovers and assassinsNight
walk

WakefulI remain awake with dreams on my mind
and stories that wait to be knit into books.
To never find comfort until my pillows are
stuffed with thoughts instead of feathers
To never let go until I made sure that
the moon smiled back at me
Until the trees, the grass, and every night creature
has whispered good night...
And yet I'm still as wakeful as an owl
afraid that sleep would somehow
grab my neck and drag me to my grave.

bad nightmy mistakes are on my head,
and the cigarettes taste like metal;
on the street curb of a suburban block,
the lights jaundiced and flickering
like drunken fireflies, your reflection
that emanates from me covers every face.

HumanDear Hypocrite,

What do you do?
Throwing insults when you're insulted.

Dear Coward,

Where went you?
To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.

Dear Liar,

What say you?
Your poison corrupts innocent ears.

Dear Human,

What are you?
A sinner trapped in endless tears.

Watercolor PainWhen you smile,
I turn colorblind.

It turns into a somersault
whenever I gain contact
with your skin,
bare back touching
bare back.

But I'm not hungry
for bedposts.

I just want to
savor each moment your arms
lock into mine,
the romanticism of
the moons in my eyes
and the skies in your words.

There's smoke
behind all those hues
of hazel and your fingers
are porcelain,
but I still love you.

ConstructDelving into the origins
Of what makes an individual
Who are you? Who am I?
There’s a lack of understanding,
Yet we jump to judge
And claim to know
That which we could never understand

Attempts are seldom made
To investigate the unknown
To strive to discover
Those we claim to know
From the inside out
Extract the innermost thoughts

In place there is an idealist mirage
To which our beliefs shall cling to
In desperation, or disbelief

It’s the construct of our mindset
That leads us all astray

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More from ~jennyanderton

WaltzDreams of falling, spinning, dying,
Euphoric feeling, screaming, flying.
Piercing hearts with shards of glass,
Convulsive thrills like ice that pass.
Death cold fingers on my spine,
Muffled screams that could be mine.
Exquisite thoughts that tease the soul,
Collect all thoughts in a crystal bowl.
Labyrinths that trick the mind,
Mind blowing torture from behind.
And when you’re done I gasp for breath,
So come with me and dance with death.

DannyDance, dance, spin, fly,
Defy gravity, come on die!
Blur all thoughts and dreams with life,
Trip and fall, land on a knife.
No-one wants you, no-one cares,
You fill my life with empty prayers.
Walk to the edge, I’ll hold you tight,
We’ll jump together, as one in flight.

Twinkle Twinkle Little StarTwinkle twinkle little star,
Help me stagger out the bar.
To the swirling dancing street,
Which tips and dips beneath my feet.
Guide me down the paths so dark,
Shine your light, and make your mark.
Take me home and tuck me in,
Kiss my lips and taste the gin,
Watch me tossing, watch me turn,
Still you sparkle, shine and burn.
The sun is rising, hide away,
But come again tonight to play...

Where is Jenny anyway?She went so see the wizard but never came back, got stuck in the caves beneath the surface. She is dragging fingernails over icy surfaces, down wiggly paths. I think she is lost.

If you turn down the music you can hear her crying. But who would want to do that? This is a good song... besides she will probably find the wizard soon... but never soon enough.

Forever internal... lives twisted in a casual meeting of selfish pleasure seeking moments. Breathe in, its almost over. The wizard will find her. It is not in her head, he will come for her...

Save face and keep on laughing, they might never notice the tears. Hides her arms from r

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I see you - London 2011

by ~jennyanderton, Aug 8, 2011, 2:07:12 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

I see you – London riots 2011

I see you,
Behind my glass HD screen I watch,
I can smell the smoke, draw breath and choke.
The fires burn and scar this stubborn town.
It cries out in pain with shrieking sirens.
It's polished cosmetic skin melts away,
Leaving black skeletons to scrape the twitching sky.

I see you,
Darkness cannot hide you anymore,
As flashing lights illuminate the betrayal.
The curling smoke tugs at helicopters tails,
Pulling them closer to the charred beautiful ground.
Streets like veins, pumping dimming lights,
The sky darkens, and the blood thickens for another night.

I see you - London 2011by ~jennyanderton

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

©2011-2013 ~jennyanderton

Riots, 2011, London

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~thelittleemoartnerd Jan 24, 2012 Hobbyist Photographer

Wow... I really love this. It's very beautiful! I especially like the final two lines, just stunning! Well done!

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Mood: Love

~jennyanderton Jan 31, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you very much

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~gizmo909 Aug 11, 2011

We don't pray, We fight!

Reply

~jennyanderton Aug 14, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

Yey! I agree.. we have come together this time... it's been amazing to see people pull together in this way

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~Miotas-Sisceal Aug 9, 2011 Hobbyist General Artist

I featured this in my journal here [link] <3 Hope you don't mind.

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~jennyanderton Aug 11, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

I don't mind at all... thank you

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