A Room For Poetry

I am oft in awe While in your bed The comfort that I allow    myself to experience As I lie beneath the sheets she picked out. by Janet Jarrell April is poetry month - long live Al Purdy!

Struck...as My lips remain dumb I am in awe of myself Dancing in the rings of the full moon Working in the fields, harvesting time Remembering me yet Not knowing me In want of me Je suis tu es ils est elle est nous sommes ... No second chances Mark has butter sandwiches and you and Mimee Turn out ok Goo goo ga joob...

Before bed, she painted her face she wore her mask to bed so no one would know her                     in her dreams She dreamt of painting and dancing Of speaking to Jesus Of dating a woman And writing                 the truth All of these things made her happy As she slept

A wee look into my thought process... Mar 24/09 In search of wisdom and contentment, I start yet another journal - this one dedicated to truth and lies, poems and prose - me. I want My father died still in want It is spring and the land is wanting what lies beneath not wanting to be found I want In want to be larger than life Yet want to shrink away into nothingness In want of a child In want of Love To be Loved To Love I want Janet Jarrell

So, she paints her face white Looks deep in the mirror To see if there is anything there "Am I worthy?" "I am afraid." She blesses herself To prove she is clean Then drinks back the wine and takes the bread She finally admits who she is A mystery

"I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am." "Kiss me and you will see how important I am." "If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days." Sylvia Plath (1932-10-27 – 1963-02-11) So much like Sylvia, Iam. Iam. Iam.

If everyone could be so confident and cool as Pinky Tuscadero, and snap their fingers, and be loved by Fonzi - well, true poetry is subjective...

" Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it . " Maya Angelou US author & poet (1928 - )

Leathered berry tongue Deep heaving breaths A wet face Upon this plank pine Nay to thee terracotta Have it Have there Have thee Adam and Eve The want, the knowing The peace amidst the chaos The wet breeze after the rain That leaves the body damp The smell of dust The sounds of night pending The rush – haste – awe of it all Thank thee now Fugerit invida The knowing, to know is to Beat the serpent Good and Evil – who decides But together – good or bad – We are one Bring life, breathe life from the dust One will always Die from the knowing Attempt to covereth with man God always knows Submit – submit – supplicate Forgive me Father, for I have sinned by Janet Jarrell

Ascend, ascend, ascend There are times when you will never know what side of the wall you are on. Why does the caged bird sing? Maya Angelou asks For the same reason the pianist plays! replies Roman Polanski and he should know "Why the fucking coat?" "I'm cold." Inspired by the movie The Pianist Janet Jarrell

deviantArt The new bookkeeper looks disheveled – she is about my age but her eyes are tired. She smiles at times but it appears forced. For the most part, her expression is less – expressionless; and as she sits like that the corners of her mouth turn down just slightly – enough to suggest some complacency and slight unhappiness. There is no real effort. Janet Jarrell

With special permission, I am posting a beautiful poem from Kenia, a fellow avid blogger, writer and poet (not necessarily in that order). The following poem, much to my absolute delight, was dedicated to me. I shared the poem with my children on Thanksgiving as a little toast during our dinner. Kenia has a gift. She has the ability to express truth beautifully through words; what more could be asked from a writer. I love visiting her blog, reading her words, and seeing my own thoughts expressed skillfully in her poems, both in Portuguese and English. For a little taste of her inspiration… http://poesiatorta.blogspot.com/ Vou usar seus olhos alegres Como armadura Quando minha imagem no espelho For difícil demais de olhar E buscarei neles a bravura necessária Para travar minhas intermináveis batalhas Diárias E chegar em casa em tempo de prepara-te o jantar - Porque é exatamente isso que as mães fazem e você não ouse esquecer que por trás de todo o metal há um coração que pulsa por voc...

More than a storey high and twice that long, it looks igneous, the Buhler Versatile 2360, possessed of the ecology of some hellacious minor island on which options are now standard. Cresting the sections in a corona part dirt, part heat, it appears risen full blown from our deeper needs, aspirating its turbo-cooled air, articulated and fully compatible. What used to take a week it does in a day on approximately a half mile to the gallon. It cost one hundred fifty grand. We hope to own it outright by 2017. Few things wrought by human hands are more sublime than the Buhler Versatile 2360. Across the road, a crew erects the floodlit derricks of a Texan outfit whose presumptions are consistently vindicated. The ancient seabed will be fractured to 1,000 feet by pressuring through a pipe literal tons of a fluid — the constituents of which are best left out of this — to tap the sweet gas where it lies like the side our bread is buttered on. The earth shakes terribly then, dear Houston, dear p...

Something moves just beyond the mind's clumsy fingers. It has to do with seeds. The earth's insomnia. The garden going on without us needing no one to watch it not even the moon. by Lorna Crozier

Words live in the mind One must draw on their inner voice Requiring absolute freedom to inscribe Words, Women, Immaculate Marriage Words live in your mind Liberate them with reverence Raise your beautiful voice, dominion By Janet Jarrell Loquacious with the The NaiSaiKu Challenge If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people. Virginia Woolf

(via DeviantArt) You are so close when I wake So vivid I can feel your heat I lay still and listen close to my heart And there I find you waiting Stop; listen close to your heart I’m forever warm and near Before you wake I’m with you By Janet Jarrell Still with The NaiSaiKu Challenge Excited to share my poem Confusion with Folding Mirror Poetry . Peace in your heart. Janet

Change your thinking Let new experience Be your torch Chloe liked Olivia Your torch now lit Let this experience Change your world Take the torch With courage tell it Forge ahead of all Chloe liked Olivia She will forge further With courage tell her How to take her torch Take truth and freedom Your mind to the edge “Fullness of expression” Chloe liked Olivia Full of expression Step out to the edge Freedom equals truth By Janet Jarrell Quote from A Room of One's Own, Virginia Woolf Freedom to express, try The NaiSaiKu Challenge

The golden rod has returned To the lambent field It stretches high, higher everyday, waiting In the lambent field As the golden rod has returned By Janet Jarrell The NaiSaiKu Challenge

As I sat at the piano Counting my fingers through The basic notes I felt someone with me It was Hannah Schmitz And she was counting her words To The Lady With the Little Dog It was the same. Her young lover was teaching her. Again, same. Now, I am on my own As she was on her own And I am finding 'the' on the piano. By Janet Jarrell

I feel You gazing at me What message do You scribe From what divine source do You abide Uriel, sitting with St. Peter, amidst the heavens From Your divine source I shall abide The message You do scribe Feel me staring back at You By Janet Jarrell Still gazing at The NaiSaiKu Challenge