Jeanne Marie, 1994
Derek
Jeanne Marie, 1994
Tag: poetry
Unconquered Guilt by Jodie Lynne (1994)
UNCONQUERED GUILT
She wearily stumbles on past
Blinded as survival fogs her path.
Her broken soul aching to reach
Beyond this endless haze,
Desperate to free
What she can no longer see.
Burning with pain
Her aimless arms reaching,
Pulling together strength enough
For one last try.
Fear takes over, for at last
She has felt beyond her gaze,
Fallen into a piece of past.
Even as a small hand clings to her own
Ever so quickly fear becomes shame
As the soft little hand slips from her hold,
Letting smoke turn to roaring flame, and
Still, the shadowed room remains so cold.
As her worn body falls
With unexpected relief
She gives in to the memory
Lies down with the unconquered grief.
One last tear streaks her face
As a terrible blackness drags
Her broken soul to another time,
Another place. A woman-child,
An abusive man, three years dead
Who lives on in nightmares,
That dance through their heads
A little boy, his crying face,
Another time, another place.
Jodie Lynne, 1994
Middle Child (Jodie Lynne)
Middle child, where do you fit in?
You fought for my attention
but did you ever win?
You surely have it now
although painfully gained.
You capture me with crisis
then, I shake loose again.
Middle child, I know you well,
you speak to me of your dreams
your fears and your babies lost.
People judge you harshly
but once you lived beneath
my heartbeat…
so, together we pay the cost.
I can’t catch you when you fall
but I’ll bandage up your knees
just like when you were five
and asphalt tore through your jeans.
“Don’t run,” I’d holler out the door
as off to play you’d tear.
You never heeded my warnings
took on the world without a fear.
Twenty-two this month and still…
my warnings fly into the wind
blowing every which way
following you aimlessly around.
Perhaps you’d stop to listen
if you knew that my heart bleeds
each time your knees hit the ground.
My daughter, my middle child
I loved you when you didn’t know
when my hands were full with others
or when my feelings didn’t show.
We’ve had our ups and downs
but I’ll never let you go.
Middle child, where do you fit in?
My quintessence has a
special niche for you
tucked beneath my ribs
right where you’ve always been.
by Jeanne Marie, 1997
I will find you by Michelle Marie
The Flower Whisperer, Michelle Marie at http://michellemarieantellg.wordpress.com/
If I could…
If I could live in the words I write, I’d write a story where my heart was never broken.
Not Beaten After All
This yellow hibiscus
has been rained on
and it has been beaten
senseless by the wind.
It has been bent
almost to the ground
and it fought storms
to stand back up again.
It stands proud and
yes, it stands tall.
It was shaken
and it was bruised
But not beaten after all.
I REMEMBER…I KNOW
I REMEMBER
Remember when you used to bring flowers home for me?
You would walk in the door after work with that sexy smile
Holding a dozen yellow and pink roses, for no reason at all.
Lunch box in your right hand, my flowers in your left
“Baby, Honey, Sweetie?” Names for me you would gently call.
I REMEMBER
Remember when we took a nap before dinner
Because we were too needing to wait for bedtime?
Sometimes all we did was giggle, snuggle and kiss
Sometimes the snuggling led to so much more
Loved your kisses, most of all, that’s what I miss.
I REMEMBER
Remember when we danced, how you held my body close?
So close my mama said it was indecent, your hands caressing
My back all the way down to my…well you know.
All my friends were jealous because with every move
With every touch, it was obvious you loved me so.
I KNOW
I know it is those memories that keep me trapped here
Because for years no loving touch have you been showing.
Years and years of silent and lonely days, dark and empty nights.
You buy me anything you think I want, when all I want is you.
Now, I cry myself to sleep, alone, after each mean and crazy fight.
I KNOW
I know we had something so intense, so strong
A love only one of us could have destroyed.
I know, dear God, I know, the exact moment it happened
Exactly when my handsome hero, my Marlboro Man,
Became a man who left me hanging over a black void.
I REMEMBER
Remember all the times I left our house, boxes in my hands?
Four times, with all I owned, swearing that this time was the last.
Remember how we both cried; remember how we felt so lost?
So home I came and tried again, to find your love, to find your heart.
Only one leaving left, so if you just sit and watch me hurting again…
I promise you my last.
Codependency
Codependency
Loved you until I was drained, empty
nothing left of the love as I recall,
refuse to lose my mind, so it is over
bruised brain won’t survive another fall.
Driven quite mad, aching for your touch
spirit crushed by your negative weight
splintering my weakened, damaged bones.
Set free? Set free? Shit, it is too late.
Too late to be an innocent little girl
too late to chase the passions of 17
too late to write that frigging book
but all my floors are sparkling clean.
My womb has left, cut from my body
so, too late to be a better mother
loved ones from my hands I dropped
always ran, hid beneath the covers.
Some other day, some other love
some other life, any but my own
thought I had time to find happy
old came first, please leave me alone.
Hopes shattered and then returned
laid to bleed in my hollow heart
the doors I had no will to open
never found the strength to depart.
Windows I painted closed, proud…
I held my ground…I took a stand
never seeing what would be forfeited
manipulations, I did not understand.
Never added up the sinister expense
of investing in a love already lost
relying on vows of a better tomorrow
never analyzed the enormous cost.
Driven by deceits, the knife sliced deep
guided by the sharp edges of yesterday
writing a check for the lies I believed
emptied the piggy bank, how will I pay?
Weeds
Walking among the flowers,
bending to touch the weeds
they are fragile, blooming at will
sprouting from no planted seeds.
An array of splendor soon to be
fed to the noisy lawn mower.
Weeds, do you know that you are
as beautiful as any planted flower?
Purple, pink, yellow and white blooms
who decided that you were a weed?
While flowers close by are honored
in words and pictures and deed.
You keep on growing, waiting for my notice
instead you’re pulled, torn up and trashed.
Hey, stop swaying, let me take your picture
so for me at least, your beauty forever lasts.
by Jeanne Marie
The first picture is called an Air plant. It grows anyplace it wants to and while often latching on to other plants, branches and wires, it requires no soil. The next five pictures are weeds that grow wild in Florida. Silly Yankee girl that I am, I have nurtured and transplanted these beauties to each place where I have lived in Florida. Yes, the neighbors laughed at me. The last three pictures are of flowers, but since they appeared and were not planted by me at all, blown into my yard from where I don’t know, I count them as weeds. But I treasure my weeds as well as my flowers for which bloom should be called a weed and which bloom a flower? I just love them all.
Say Something…
The past looms ever present, but this moment is God’s present to me. I won’t ignore my present by holding yesterday’s regrets in front of my eyes. I cannot change the past, but today, the present is mine. I will create good memories. I will hold this moment. I will laugh and I will play. I will live today, love me today, appreciate the people who love me today. I will share my present today. Tomorrow, I might take it back. Jeanne Marie
Sometimes…
Sometimes I wish, I think, I could have lived my life
without the soul stretching exercise.
I could have been a dandelion floating on the wind
at the whim of every breeze.
I would have been happy blowing across the open fields
a dandelion puff scattered every which way
sacrificed for a wish by a child with a grin and scuffed knees.
No heart to be broken, no regrets to sleep on at night
just a hundred puffs floating this way and that.
Maybe a flower opening my petals for just one day
to bloom
to close
to leave
drifting on a whim as the wind carried me away.
I could have been a feather fallen from an angel’s wing
floating past your window
as under the covers you snuggled
asleep
eyes closed
not seeing me or any thing.
I would have sprinkled blessing dust
across your windowsill
as I whooshed by
so no person could ever scar you
or beat you blind with lies.
Sometimes I wish, I think,
I could have lived my life
without the soul stretching exercise.
by Jeanne Marie
Angels swing here from Michelle Marie
![angelsswinghere[1]](https://womenwhothinktoomuch.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/angelsswinghere1.jpg)
The Past…Someday
Old low burning flames
memories under the bed
like pieces of an old game
at night, fast asleep
they blister inside your head.
Upon waking, you weep.
pictures of a love lost
broken glass
beneath your feet.
Regrets flash by
on your mind screen
you still pay the cost
but you’re stuck in now
lost…forever it seems.
How can that old love
still make you cry?
Was it a nightmare
or was it a dream?
Is the past ever gone
is it ever wiped clean?
Wake up, clear your mind
push old passions away
get on with your life
because today will be
the past…someday.
by Jeanne Marie
Oh The Games…
Old pain
starts infringing.
Old scars
still are singeing.
A new life
starts unhinging.
New tears
for an old day.
No mercy
comes our way.
Oh the games
our minds play.
Change Is Forever Constant by Jodie Lynne
The woman I am, shall not be the woman I will be or the woman I once was.
The morning always brings another beginning, thank God.
And I, always becoming, am not allowed to go back to the once was… that woman is no longer there.
Older. Wiser. I have learned to live and let live.
I, after years, have acquired perspective which lends me sanity, sanity where once there was none.
The pains that once overwhelmed and undermined the nurturing, developing woman that I was, helped to shape the woman that I am now becoming.
If only mastering and accepting these lessons, if only I could blindly trust, there is a gift, the gift of change that accompanies each pain.
I am becoming and with becoming comes peace. I can see and sense this for I know where I was yesterday.
by Jodie Lynne
Eating Dollar General
Eating
Dollar General
food and my time
passes slow.
I put myself
in these mountains
yes, that’s true,
I know.
Just enough
food and coffee
to stay afloat.
Just enough staples
to give me tiny
glimmers of hope.
Used to love bologna
before this…
For my mama’s
arrival
I wish and I wish.
Isolated except for
my dog, so it’s
Maggie Mae
and me.
She is my angel
my saving grace.
That makes two
unless I count the
Dollar Store lady
and then…
we are three.
Eating
Dollar General
food and my time
passes slow.
By Jeanne Marie for Jodie Lynne
Seashells and Shadows
A shadow of herself
is all that remains
just a glimmer
of the woman
who she
coulda
woulda
shoulda
been.
A shadow of herself
walks on the shore
collecting seashells
seashells
she doesn’t
want
to collect
to touch
to hold
anymore.
Drunk Love Sober by Jodie Lynne
Feathers fallen to the ground
each step he takes
set at sensual’s pace.
Life dancing…
behind his chiseled face…
one taste, his kiss
he’s heaven sent…
I’m heaven bound.
6′ 1″ bluest of eyes
drops my panties
to my thighs.
Depth of his voice
flashes his whole being
before my mind’s movie…
stuck on slow play.
Set…rewind…replay…
I could do this
all damned day.
by Jodie Lynne
Remember Me, The Mannequin
She has no legs, arms or hands
yet, she communicates from her stand.
Her head was never found
just her body on the ground.
She has no voice to speak
but still I feel her tear drops leak.
She is me and she is you.
She is every woman ever broken in two.
No eyes to see, no voice to shout
no one to speak her words
to hear her screams that can’t come out.
She remains still, she has no choice
she is crippled and she has no voice.
She stands for you…she stands for me…
I hear her thoughts so clear.
You are where you chose to be.
You have legs and you have arms
you even have your eyes to see
don’t be fooled by his sweet lies
if you are tempted, remember me.
Get moving woman
don’t you fret.
For me too late.
For you? Not Yet.
Poetry by Jeanne Marie, 2014
Mannequin by Jessica Mae McClellan, 2013
I’m going to break things. . .I’m going to cross lines From Michelle Marie
breathing
why is it so hard to breathe
I can’t breathe
I try to draw air into my lungs
nothing happens no air no air
my lungs are locked frozen
you used up my share of air
with your angry sizzling words
anger has sucked the oxygen
right out of this room
this is wrong so wrong
please be quiet please
please let me breathe
I gasp and gasp and gasp
The questions begin.
What is wrong with you?
Why are you so upset?
What the f— did I do?
my tears are flowing
no shortage of water
wrapping my arms
so tight around myself
I almost feel my ribs crack
I am having a panic attack
croaks from my throat
the attempt to speak
unlocks my lungs
air roughly forces its way in
it hurts as I choke it back out
broken lungs, broken spirit
satisfied with my answer
secure that it wasn’t your fault
after all, I made you so mad
when I said that
you were smothering me
and I hurt your feelings, so
you knew it wasn’t your fault.
you walk out the front door
drive away from my emotions
air rushes back into the room
as soon as you close the door
but now, but now I’m not sure
if I even want to breathe anymore.
by Jeanne Marie
Don’t Think
Don’t Think
Following my heart
down dead-end streets
letting my life be directed
by…my feet?
Don’t think, just go
don’t listen
to what you feel.
Live with your mistakes
it’s all part of the deal.
How did you learn
to live so unfulfilled?
Well, don’t think now
just take your
little green
antidepressant pill.
Thoughts
will turn to feelings
you really can’t let out
because if you do
you’ll lose it
and you’ll scream
and you’ll shout.
Be quiet.
Do what’s expected.
Don’t make any waves
just do what your told
be a good girl, behave.
Someday you’ll spill
from all of the strain
but until then,
be quiet feelings
you’re such a pain.
by Jeanne Marie
Could Not Leave, Could Not Stay
Could Not Leave, Could Not Stay
touched, loved, held safe in my hands
until he was free on the floor.
where life knocked him down
and then he smiled no more.
memories of his face, turned toward me
small helpless child, eyes wide with fear.
lost moments, chances not taken
sucked up by time
washed away, year by year.
his precious innocence
his trusting smile,
soul bruised by words
so unkind, to that child.
and then time, it was lost
freely given, but oh, the cost.
could not leave, could not stay
trapped by fears
till the future became today.
could not leave, could not stay
a man stands on my floor,
mom, don’t cry, he pleads with me
it doesn’t matter anymore.
by Jeanne Marie
Promises
There are no promises unbroken
And there are no guaranties,
Still, I need something to hold on to
Because I’m falling
Back under your spell.
I’m so afraid and you know
Love and fear
Blend like fire and water.
Every time I feel
That old familiar burn,
Ice cold rain puts out the flames.
by Jeanne Marie
Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 
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