Where Are My Words?

Where are my words?
I haven’t heard a sound.
They sometimes
Pour from my fingers
Dripping all over
Flowery notepaper
Napkins and notebooks
Anything that makes a sound.
Then the words, the damn
Ugly, beautiful, painfully real
Words, they just go away.
Up to the sky like a balloon
Floating just out of reach.
My mind goes blank
My heart goes numb
My fingers heartless as steel.

The Summer Is Done

The sunflowers reach for the sun
they don’t know that the summer…
the summer is done.
Still bursting with tiny, green, closed buds
and the mother plant proudly presenting
the huge yellow sunflowers that I love.
It will only take one frosty night
and then my beautiful sunflowers
you will no longer be mine.
To the ground, to the ground
sunflower petals and seeds will fall
but I know…I know you will come back
shooting up in the spring, then
once more my sunflowers
you will be mine
until the first frost of fall.

Summer Dreams

It’s so sad when summer goes away.

I thought if my love was strong enough

Maybe this time she would stay.

So, I chased the sunshine

I kissed the sunflowers

I danced with honeybees

I nurtured wildflowers.

I ran with the butterflies

I played in the sunshine

For hours and hours and hours.

I grew daisies and vegetables

And embraced the sun showers.

I woke each morning and chased the day

Then followed the sun’s departure

As daylight slowly drifted away.

I loved this summer like it was my first,

my last and everything in-between

and when the snow covers my windows

I’ll close my eyes and I’ll dream…

I’ll dream of summer.

Lost In Love

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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Lost in love
what is my name
I am you
and you are me
we are the same.
Lost in love
no one is here
to answer the phone
the banging on the door
lost in love, lost in love
but love, love doesn’t
live here anymore.

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A Dozen Old Sads

Have you ever noticed

when something triggers your sad

it seems to pull back the layers

of all the sads you buried

and a dozen old sads rise up in defiance

shouting out, What about me?

I’m still here. Look at me.

You buried me, you pushed me down,

but I’m still aching, what about me?

Shut up old sads.

You don’t belong here, not today.

I have enough to be sad about

in this present moment and

I don’t need a dozen selfish

old sads rising up in rebellion.

Go back to sleep old sads, hush.

You’ve already had your day.

My Kryptonite

I could give up cigarettes, coffee, sugar,

chocolate and probably even salt.

I could never let go of your memory

it’s locked securely in a hidden vault.

Yet, longings escape

like pink whispers

memories haunt me

old scars burn as

your caress lingers

lips tender on my skin

kissing the curve of my face

as you slow dance me

until you win my heart

just to walk away.

A fantasy fulfilled, too hot to hold

it dropped from my burnt fingers.

The way you made me feel, my kryptonite.

The dance ended, but the music lingers.

She’s Still Alive

I looked in the mirror this morning

and the woman who once loved you

looked back at me.

I thought she died.

I tried to kill her literally, emotionally

and in every way possible because

I don’t want love that hurts.

I looked in the mirror this morning

and the woman who once loved you

looked back at me.

She’s still alive.

Full Moon Rises

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

Soul wanders
through the darkness
searching for your light.
It floats blind and lost
searching behind
the  stars each night.
Heat remembered
frustrates and
fuels the fire.
Full moon rises
sparking rebellion,
tears and desire.
I want! I want!
soul screams out
to the empty night.
Its over. It’s over.
Must be accepted
by each daylight.

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Yes, I Do

I spent half my life making rules and asking people to follow them, disappointed when they didn’t.
I spent half my life cleaning when I could have played with my children, but, I didn’t.
I let time slip away, let people drift out of my life, moments I should have treasured but, I didn’t.
I let problems weigh me down, things that  didn’t even matter the next day.
But, I thought they did.
Now, I treasure every moment, every hug, every butterfly and flower.
Yes, I do.

Sometimes, I’m a Flower

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Sometimes, when I’m in my garden, I’m a flower.
I spread my petals to soak up the sun.
When I walk among the brilliant colors
I feel like a bird set free to soar.

Imagine…

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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Imagine a world
where the flowers are blue
the sky is Cinderella pink
and your heart is brand new.
Heart never been broken
never kicked to the ground
a home built on rainbows…
awesome flowers surround.
Tears are never shed and
willow trees do not weep
when you close your eyes…
your soul He does keep.
Imagine a world
minus cursing and screams
imagine a world
where kindness beats mean.
Rose colored angels
waltz through your dreams
while dainty butterflies dance
on clouds of whipped cream.
Imagine…

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Words & Pictures: Jeanne Marie, 2014

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What You Love

 

What you love the most can kill you as you hold it close.
Danger never made itself known as she buried her face in the lilacs,
inhaling the sweet, sugary scent of the velvety, purple blossoms.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the ambrosia as she gently held the delicate bunches in her hands, her favorite perfume filling her senses with pleasure.
Overwhelmed with passion, she didn’t feel the spider that crawled up her neck.
As it bit into the tender flesh under her windblown hair, she was so lost in the moment, lost in the lilacs, she didn’t even feel the deadly bite.
He injected his poisonous venom into her soft flesh as she caressed the lilacs.
What you love the most can kill you as you hold it close.

Colors

 

 

She hates colors that aren’t colors
colors that are shades of something
that used to be brilliant.
She learned to hide her colors gradually
through the years and as she let him
water her down with his words,
she gently faded into a no color version
a salamander who changed her colors to hide.
She let him turn her into a shade of something
that used to be brilliant.

One More Time, Again

Let’s not fight when the sun goes down and the shades are drawn.
Wouldn’t you rather call back the tender fury, the passion that we once wore?
Time was on our side and ever so trusting I gave me to you
only to be lost, a forlorn girl standing on the edge of nevermore.
Drew back the covers, flesh ablaze, unashamed, nothing to hide,
fell in love, lost my head, I was so sure.
Recreate the euphoria of that first night, devouring each other
between the worn cotton sheets on my antique bed.
Use your fingertips to chase away the years of struggling
the hurt and the anger that screams wild as savage beasts inside our heads.
Play make-believe, pretend that it’s yesterday
and the bitter deeds did not destroy the tenderness instead.
Pursue me like there’s no tomorrow because I can not see beyond today
then, when tomorrow comes…
I promise to set you free, stand on my own two feet, find my own way.
Hands could caress, bodies could recreate, satisfy this insane yearning
as you travel back with me, waltz me back through past’s gate.
Touch my soul once more with longing and desire, force the winds of change
to stand stationary while you re-ignite my skin’s desire.
What would I give to travel back and never have been betrayed?
I scarce remember when there were no walls
and I did not know how to be afraid.
Perhaps tonight you could help me to forget to remember if I promise that
I won’t run away when the dawn comes, I won’t run away. No…not yet.
We could try, one more time, again. What could we lose, what could we win?
Cradle me in your arms and recapture me with reckless hunger,
pretend thirty years have not transpired.
It would be so easy because fingertips have no memories and
they don’t know how to hate, they will pursue passion’s flagrant fire
unlike a broken heart which hesitates.
No movement forward from here so we could journey back to then
before the illusions were shattered and we could try, one more time, again.
One more time again, as if you read my mind.
Still, the heat that rises in my loins concedes to grief, collapses beneath regret
too wise to be enchanted, too stupid to forget.
Good-bye. No, wait…not yet. Maybe we could try…one more time, again.

Sunflower On The Road

Took a sunflower on the road
I couldn’t just leave her behind.
Grew her from a tiny seed
Watched her climb and grow
Always reaching for the sky.
She made it past eight feet
And I couldn’t say goodbye.
She’ll finish out her life
In cool, clean water
A burst of sunshine
In my tiny RV and
When her time is done
I’ll save her seeds for
My next garden
So she will always be.

Loved Me Young

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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I took your love and absorbed it into my skin
then when you left, I was lost…so
I leaned on memories and I was OK again.
I’m going to save your love till the day I die
When I miss you, I’ll take a little out
dust myself and remember not to cry.
A little pink dust coming straight from my heart
the love that you gave will always be a part.
Your caresses all over my skin will forever shine
you can’t take back those moments, they are mine.
Like icy snowflakes that melt
when they hit my tongue,
I’ll hold on to the dance that was us
remembering when you loved me young.
Jeanne Marie, 2016

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Old Age

He came to her windowsill
Come play! Come fly!
She tiptoed to the edge
Brave, with one jump
Into his arms she dived.
Peter, I am old.
It doesn’t matter
He whispered,
You’re the only woman
I’ll ever hold.
Straight on till morning,
And then she woke.
Peter was her past
Old age, nature’s joke.

The Lost Boy

 

 

The Lost Boy was on her window sill
Begging her to fly just one more night.
Wendy, I don’t care that you are older
I just want to fly you to the stars tonight.
We can pretend that we are the same age
I’ll believe if you will, he said with a smile.
It’s our story, we can write a new page
Straight from once upon yesterday’s time.
Let’s fly through the clouds to the stars
Just for tonight, a quick little flight.
Don’t say no, just take my hand
I’ll have you home by morning’s light.
But Peter, she whispered, with a sigh
I’m a great-grandmother now.
I can’t fly anymore, Tink’s out of dust
Plus, I don’t even remember how.
I’m tired of your shenanigans, Lost Boy
And I have nothing else to say.
Oh, except I’ll always love you Peter…
Goodbye, now please, fly away.
Wendy, I won’t be back
This is your last chance.
She kissed his cheek and she closed the window
Declining the thrill of a last Lost Boy dance.

 

 

 

 

The Princess

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

The Princess was sitting in her castle and she swore no man would she let woo.

She turned them all away as she said, no, not you, not you, not you, to myself I will be true.

She danced with her butterflies, she twirled in her flower gardens like when she was two.

She whispered to her flowers, confessing, I love you and you and you.

So happy was this woman that she vowed never to wed and then a Knight in dazzling armor appeared at the castle gates, the sun shining on his head.

She was blinded by his beauty, aura like spun gold and this one Knight she invited to her bed, visions of together growing old.

Prince Charming was his name and wow, that man tickled her fancy with his soft kiss and even if he just walked by, she would stumble and a step she would miss.

Well…

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I Cry Because

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

I cry, not because you’re gone, no
it’s that you left me so many years ago.
I’ve realized it was a lie, I’ve been sleeping with
and snuggling against the enemy’s back
dancing with demons in my bed
holding my breath to give you air
for thirty years too long.
I cry because
I refuse to love you anymore and
love’s removal leaves a gaping wound.
You pulled me close, then
you pushed me away so hard
you bruised my tender soul.
Over and over and said it was my fault
while I bloodied myself in battles
you had already won.
I cry because your love
was just an illusion, a reward
that I could never earn.
I cry because
I lost a love I never had at all.

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She used to…

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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She used to climb apple trees
with fearless abandon
never worried how she’d get down.
She used to run in fields of grass
without a care in the world.
She used to hide in the flowers
inhaling the nectar
never fearing a sting.
I’d like to invite that girl
to come out to play.
I’d like to reclaim her
travel the path back
to that courageous girl
she who once lived free.

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I Still Want Him

 

I still want him.
I want the first night when we slept in each other’s arms,
legs wrapped around each other.
I want the first kiss, the slow dances, the first time.
I want it all.
I want the weeks before we made love, the anticipation.
I want his soft words and his rough hands.
I want to feel his wrists on mine, holding my arms down, as he makes love to me through my clothes.
I want his cocky smile that promises me that we will always feel this rawness, this intensity, even though it’s a lie.
I want to sit on his lap while he rocks us to sleep.
I want to see me through his eyes again, to feel young and sexy and wild.
I want his cutoff tee shirts thrown on my bed, his dirty work boots by my door.
I still want him.

To My Children

Picture 1979

To My Children
When my body leaves this earth
and you think that I am gone
go out and touch the rain
and you will know that I live on.
Throw your hands into the drops
and splash the rain on your face
that will be my hugs and kisses
blessing you all over your space.
When my body leaves this earth
rainbows will reflect my smile
coloring the sky for you
for just a magical while.
When my body leaves this earth
and you think that I am gone…
I will be the pink in the sunsets
I will be the puffs dancing in the clouds
I will be the dew that kisses your flowers
I will be the orange butterfly by your side
I will be the tiny bird who sings
outside your kitchen window
because my love will never leave you.
My love will live forever in you…
on and on and on…
Just be still and you will find
my love in all the things I loved
when my body leaves this earth
and you think that I am gone.

Thank You My Sister

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

Have I ever thanked you for all the nights
you sat on your cold bathroom floor
talking me into staying alive,
for praying me sober when I was lost in the swamp,
for holding me close when my heart was broken,
for standing by my side when everyone else
walked away because I was wrong?
Have I ever thanked you for never judging me,
for never giving up on me,
for seeing my beauty
when all I could see was my ugly,
for being my sister, my best friend,
my go-to person for every pain and every joy?
Have I ever thanked you for introducing me to Jesus,
for your powerful prayers
when my daughter was dead in the water,
for your face that she saw as she came up, alive?
God places angels in our lives, and you are mine.
I am me because you loved me through.
For…

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