breathing in words

serenity

2011-08-06T00:41:00.000-05:00

pulling away from all stings, like bandages pulled from wounds

quickly it stings

slowly it elongates the pain

but we find it easier or habitual this way.

revealed it is only flesh

as we all know

but still surprised.

as if we are not like all other's pain.

as if we are alone in all of this.

as if you are just you

as if I am just I

and nothing, nothing has ever happened or existed before.

pushing towards bruises like gripping the soft spot of inner arm or thigh.

days later in revealing purple-grey-blue hues

one is surprised.

as if the pressure would never leave marks.

as if we are not like all other's pain.

as if we are alone in all of this.

as if you are just you

as if I am just I

and nothing, nothing has ever happened or existed before.

you are the only exception

2011-05-26T01:08:00.000-05:00

look over her. past it all and come here. turn in this direction and see.

set it all here. cradle all of that in these arms. let me be here.

scream to me. out the violence and boredom of just living.

surface and face me. i will breathe for you as you collapse.

flail those weakened limbs and I will stop the hemorrhage. i will tend

show me your bruises. tell me of your tenderness. i will be brave for you.

fall to your knees. i will raise you slowly. gently and in small gestures of grace.

be alone and small. view the vastness and blink with me. so light becomes darkness. so darkness becomes light. with needed pause.

roll the bitterness in you mouth. i will feed you the bland. the banal. so you may once again savor

look over him. past it all and come here. turn in this direction and see.

raise the voice in your head. its roar of blame. let it shriek. i will whisper. i will whisper. i will whisper. until your shriek is mute.

rage in silence. hold your stoic stance and brace. i will stand with you. i will brace with you.

i will.

look over her. past it all and come here. turn in this direction and see.

look over him. past it all and come here. turn in this direction and see.

you are the only exception

-- jessica c. lindley, 2011may

SHIFT

2011-04-22T11:29:00.000-05:00

looking down and straining

my toes curl, feet bend, and my view shifts

to hands
two hands

nails clean, unpolished

there are no scars.

my fingers curl, wrists bend and my view shifts

to eyes
two eyes

but i need a tool of reflection to see this view

to see my eyes, unframed

clear

i see you in this shifted position

behind me, distant, but in view

and all i have to do, is shift

a foot
a hand
an eye

and

you

are

gone

or

i

am

obscured

-- jessica lindley, 4.2011

Self Preservation

2011-03-02T21:33:00.000-06:00

paralyzed in the motion of emotions
these are not waves
those waves of grief, anger, sadness
those waves
they speak of
no no no no
this is a fucking ocean
sea.
everlasting vastness of thought
daily
everlasting
daily
everlasting
rolling masses of fear
over raw, bare bodies of
- of those i protected
i protected
me from
only served to fill the vast waters with
salt

the care of giving and taking

2011-01-08T16:30:00.000-06:00

caregiver
please give nothing
please take everything
in time
it appears you are well
stitched to healing
a small voice wrapped in utterances and grunts
of disembodiment
it is all a part
of the process
caregiver

caretaker

of the process

it is all a part

of disembodiment

a small voice wrapped in utterances and grunts

stitched to healing

it appears you are well

in time

please take everything

please give nothing

caretaker

to whirl about

2010-12-09T09:09:00.000-06:00

beneath all my false hope
past and future
i stand
here.

across, i see the spiral of my life
it isn't pretty
it isn't ugly
it is perfectly flawed.

i spin and twist
spinandtwist spinandtwist spinandtwist
seeking that elusive flat, steady horizon
a constant.

spinandtwist spinandtwist spinandtwist
i create rhythmic storms
rising from flat and steady
spinandtwist spinandtwist spinandtwist
as a perfect pirouette,
my eyes remaining on the elusive, the easy
seeking and seeking all that is not
seeking and seeking all that will be
seeking and seeking
a pause

beneath all my false hope
past and future
i stand
here.

across, i see the spiral of my life
it isn't pretty
it isn't ugly
it is perfectly flawed.

repeat

his love was meant for me

2010-11-27T00:35:00.000-06:00

past hes of me
demanded
begged
took
past hes of me

yet, i gave of me
relinquished
obeyed
succumbed
allowed
granted
gave
all of me.

i see he,
the final he.
alone now,
i see he.
the final he.

he was quiet
walked away,
in quiet fury,
because i would not grant a kiss

my buried face in my child hands
whispered no

my him
did not demand,
did not beg,
did not take.

at the last
he left
he walked away.

and alone, i realized his place,
he walked away.

his abuse was always to be
the last.
his love was always to be
given.

alone now, i see the final he

walked away,
in quiet fury,
because i took all that was given
and i loved only one.

i succumbed
i allowed
i granted
and i gave
all his love
to me,
when
my buried face in my child hands
whispered no

-- jessica lindley

dropping all carried, instant by instant

2010-11-26T23:25:00.000-06:00

burdens regrets fears failures expectations wrongs imperatives rages creations

little death by little death

maintaining

little death by little death

encumbered into this mess

little death by little death

trapped.

little death by little death

mind of brier and tar

little death by little death

to be changed

little death by little death

shocked into bliss

little death by little death

drop
all
as leaves onto water

little death by little death

freed
to become
substance

little death by little death

existing time less

in death
burdens regrets fears failures expectations wrongs imperatives rages creations

the truth of alligators

2010-11-26T22:57:00.001-06:00

reading regarding the truth of self

man sings of light

little one says

I don't know what that means but I do know a truth

“alligators do not eat ice cream.”

don't forget about delight, ya know

i have another truth, says he

“football don't have legs.”

here is bigger that you can imagine

they all cross my mind and the truth dissipates

hope dissipates.

little one says without cause or need

“don't give up.”

i come back to self, my truth and remember

i know a truth.

i know who i am. that is a truth.

now is forever

i'm still here. that is a truth

jessica c.. lindley

what is true, old, faithful

2010-11-15T17:49:00.000-06:00

in a small room arranged to accommodate
it feels bare
sterile
smells of toast-playdough-ink-sweat-bleach

i can run away
if i choose
disappear
fade,
away from all
of it
of them
of me

though,
if i dive
into the warm
soothing
deep
nothing
remained in the deep crevasse
etched smooth
hardened
water ebbing against every future thought

old and faithful

nothing would disappear
nothing would really
fade

in a small room arranged to accommodate
it is bare

the air of paper sacks

2010-11-10T18:19:00.000-06:00

i read of another's anxiety
breathing air in paper sacks
helped them

i drew in paper sack air
smelled my own
scent was sweet
tangy
old
warm
heavy
damp
sad

my air is sad.

breathing air in paper sacks
helped them
not me.

jc lindley

holding effort, holding ease

2010-04-22T10:15:00.002-05:00

out of a cracked window
in the darkness of tinted windows
finger tips appear,
cigarette heavy, ashes drop, unable to hold.
too much weight.

and i paused
watching the effort, the ease of how one can brush ashes from flame
untainted by bits and bits and bits

and i held a beauty
perfect flower
petals white
pure
solid and transparent as ash
pollen-laden
heavy. unable to hold.
too much weight.

and in holding the ease of just being,
i flinched

and my once-held ease, became exertion
an effort of hardness
to erase beauty

and evermore, i am tainted with knowledge
of how one can brush ashes from flame
effortlessly

Meditation on Mr. Nepo's January 25th

2010-04-08T10:35:00.000-05:00

this moment is fine enough to live.
this moment is fine enough to die.

this moment is me racing
against wind
knowing
it is hard
harder

this moment is fine enough to live.
this moment is fine enough to die.

this moment is my laughter filling air
bellowing
blundering utterances
on the edge of my lips

this moment is fine enough to live.
this moment is fine enough to die.

this moment is my blood drying on asphalt
countless black starry specks colored red
drop-by-drop-by-drop-by-drop

this moment is fine enough to live.
this moment is fine enough to die.

this moment is me seizing what is necessary
while others wait

this moment is fine enough to live.
this moment is fine enough to die.

this moment is my labored breath
unseen but heard

this moment is fine enough to live.
this moment is fine enough to die.

this moment is my voice bereft of plans
loved
enough

this moment is fine enough to live.
this moment is fine enough to die.

this moment has my fists
open

this moment is fine enough to live.
this moment is fine enough to die.

this moment
real before me

this moment
old and original

this moment is you
this moment is i
connected
to a small piece of the beginning

this moment is fine enough to live.
this moment is fine enough to die.

-- jessica c. lindley

silence is not acceptance

2010-04-08T10:01:00.001-05:00

he will adjust
he will accept
he will remain
silent.

saving words
for fighting
preservation of the ultimate
oneself

living in this
he will adjust
he will accept
he will remain
silent.

now, i full of words
no longer fighting

preserving
the ultimate
thyself

he may adjust
he may accept
he may remain
silent.

this is what you have
this is what you cling
this is what you accept
silence.

it is enough
now
i know
now

i adjusted
i accepted
i remained
silent.

living this

silence is not accepted
silence does not remain

coming to

2010-03-30T12:33:00.004-05:00

laying in bed

staring at ceiling

white

pale

as i

come to

knowing

onetime

sometime

a time

it will fall

the ceiling

it will fall

or i will,

rise

or i will rise
or i will rise

stance of hands

2010-02-18T12:31:00.003-06:00

there is a picture of ago, time ago
hand-in-hand leading

i am leading you.

you are looking back
over shoulder

your body is turned
toward me

my wrist holds a watch
holds tightly to time
seems i did not want this to pass

this time

your fingers grasp, grip
my solitary finger

it is the whole of your hand

wrapped gripped

onto my small, slender finger

my slender finger bears a ring
it is encompassed

choked

around my tiny, bare finger
and it beams.

i am not beaming.
i am holding.

gripping.

seems we are gripping to another
although different places

you looking back in intrigue
me looking forward expressionless

oh! and my hand!
my hand!
the one you touch
the one you hold effortlessly
my fingertips touch your palm
your wrist
as if
they are meant to be there
have been there
always
and now when we hold

gripping

without even glancing at one another

we bear
that same touch
position

stance of hands

only now
i have no time wrapped upon my bare wrist
i have no ring beaming on my tender finger

my hand holds yours
naked

clean

and our facing directions change
moment by moment

uncaptured

unlike this image of you
captured.
held.

unlike this image of me
held.
captured.
-- jessica c. lindley

message from a bird on top of wall

2010-02-10T23:11:00.001-06:00

in the midst of it all, a bird

perches

sings

flies

away.

Realize,

letting go

there is no sound when soaring

shaken not stirred

2010-02-10T22:45:00.000-06:00

he said a friend is missing.

unknown,

due to drinking.

i know this.

he knows this.

his father.

my former.

but,

we are different.

i was not formed by him.

he was not a parent to him.

and here we stand.

across the room,

in distance,

feeling hollow and whole.

knowing nothing can be done.

or said.

so i say,

sorry.

he plays with a key

twirling it on his finger

swish. swish. swish.

swallows.

looks through me.

and says,

why?

-- jessica c. lindley

On Account of a Mother and Her Child

2008-02-10T23:17:00.000-06:00

"bubbles!"
he says with his red juicy lips pursed as if he could breathe a bubble.

laughter ensues as he reaches and grasps all the air pockets floating around us.

later,
i sigh into a chair
reading

"mother drowns her children in bathtub"

bubbles.

grasping for pockets of floating air
juicy, red lips pursed as if they could breathe.

maybe they did not writhe in water but only floated looking into their mother's calm, distant eyes and sank airless into peace.

i watch him sleeping . . .watch the rise and fall of his small belly

ribs

chest

he is peaceful.

he gulps in air and looks into my eyes drawing me closer

closer

closer

still closer until we are breathing in the same air

he yawns in deep gulps of air and i see one solitary bubble

an orb of air clinging to me

he reaches grabs squeals laughs

"bubbles!"

counting the hunters

2007-02-10T23:19:00.001-06:00

i and she were understanding

“how many had died?”

there was the man who took that awful dot and slept forever under an azul sky

there was the man who triumphed over his fall but could not conquer his pain

there was the man who bought a ticket to see his blood splatter on the wall of fame

there was the man who seduced himself into a cold grave and whose commitment found him in a crumpled in a small room, on a cold floor unable to seduce no more

“come to think of it they were all men.”

their lives taken in vain
question the purpose.

their loves question the purpose of their vanity

their foes do not rejoice
wonder why and how a life can waste by choice

their selves swing into oblivion
forever into that azul sky

falling

never to stain

only to grace crumpled black and white type
listing their loss

sanctity of god

2007-02-10T23:13:00.000-06:00

singing
"i am bound"
your gentle hand guides a light across
ever so slightly

this is your grace.

"come to me now"
you lay your hands over me
gliding gentleness across the pain
ever so slightly

this is your humanity.

light will change.
place will fade.
your gentle touch
remains
gentle

pushing ever so slightly
across vastness to ground
you still

seeing humanity

2007-02-10T23:12:00.000-06:00

you are SCREAMING

thrashing

as if

the world is not at your attention.

all is lost

you do not exist,

say you.

but for thrashing, screaming

You are heard.

You matter.

You are a-part.

everyone detaches,

steps away . . .

distance

when all that is wanted is attachment,

love.

Father & Daughter

2007-01-19T23:22:00.000-06:00

salt and pepper hair
in chlorine-blue water
tosses me effortlessly into the air
sending me laughing
into a splash

as i drift slowly to the bottom - -
because i know he will save me - -
i see his tanned, callous hands reaching
for
me

in a burst of air, gulps of laughter
we are one being
solid in the liquidity around us

we laugh.
we wade with the sun on our backs and become
blissfully tired

waves cease
he carries me to warmth

after all is said and done
he says to me . . ."that was what"
i laugh and say
good-night daddy

drive

2006-06-01T23:23:00.000-05:00

line . . line . . .line . . .line

STOP

man steps out and blocks the sun
his eyes reflecting me
HE tells me to keep moving
but I don’t want to
i want to PUSH him out of the way
out of the sun

HE remains on the curve, guarded
i study the distortion of me in the shade – peering into silver rimmed blackness
breathing continues as slow and as fast as sweat
falling from a temple.

a flippant wave and I squint in the sun
begin again.

line line line line line . . . . .
drive.

Love Affair With Cancer

2006-06-01T23:15:00.000-05:00

irony strikes as Providence is where i would be if i had not met you.

your entrance was so gentle
unnoticed
your discovery caused my heart to come unglued.

all that could have been between us?
all that should have happened with us?
all that

all that

all that.

in the end, as it began
we are left touched.

you erased.
me scarred.

times i wish i had never met your world.
times i know i had no choice.

upward gaze to the sun
to light

and i wish you
good riddance.

smiling
through salt,
i thank you
for grace.

car ride with Audria

2005-03-10T23:16:00.000-06:00

holding you
in the front seat of your rumbling car
i decide
you are soiled

ashes to ashes

we pass the familiar
faces become stranger
blur of life becomes distracting
from the silky-grey
under my fingernails

ashes to ashes

you are not yourself today
you are distant
floating
just away
but remains are left.

ashes to ashes

smooth over my palms
i brush soil from my sandaled foot
soil smeared
created a brown-red stain
on my fingertip
You would have told me"“wash your hands"”.
silence sometimes is not golden

ashes to ashes

i study the stains in my pores
i decide not to think anymore
the blur outside becomes clearer
more interesting
You just sit.

ashes to ashes
i decide to look forward
i can see the sun
the heat closes my eyelids
i reach for air
realizing
as sweat drips
air may be awkward

ashes to ashes

i pictured you prettier
more elegant
maybe improved
instead you are stains upon my hands
worry with inhale
question with exhale

ashes to ashes

i begin to wonder of destination
i want to remove myself
i want to wash my hands
i want to bury my face
in warm scented water
You are patient now
maybe you know when.

ashes to ashes

after the cleansing
i never
fingertipped the silky-grey again

You are now still.

you just sit.
as i did holding you

you sit.

sun makes my pores ooze
i watch
focus on the blurs outside

i take

deep

deep

deep

gulps of air

You don't breathe.

dust to dust

when intimacy dies

2005-02-10T23:21:00.000-06:00

WHEN INTIMACY DIES IT BECOMES AS RANDOM PIECES OF THREAD
CURLS INTO A GREY CORNER
HIDES.

FEAR OF CLUTTER SNATCHES IT FROM ITS CORNER
WITH THIN COARSE FINGERS
WHISKS IT INTO LIGHT
OUT OF SHADOWS

IT GROWS.
BECOMING LARGER.
BRIGHTER.

IT CANNOT BE SHELTERED
ONLY COVETED UNTIL
GIVEN AWAY AND WANTED

SLIGHT TOUCHING . . . CURIOSITY

SHUNNING BACK TO GREY?

LAUGHTER BEGINS.

WANT?

POOLS OF EMOTIONAL DUST
SWIRLED
COARSE FINGERS BECOME SOFT

BREATHING

LIGHT SHINES IN ALL CORNERS

REPEAT

Cancer Mortality Rates Increase

2004-10-01T23:23:00.000-05:00

sacrifices placed
at goddesses feet
cannot heal
arms gathered
around the pain
bodies bathed
in love
do not soothe

words
imparted
shouted
whispered
utterances
those unsaid
do not bring understanding

baring all in view
full of nakedness
in the warm breath of anger
there is no solace

all thoughts flee through wounds
reddened
raised
crusted
ooze of emotion
burns
itches
scars remain

this is not about forgiveness
compassion
grace
blessing

crawling out
dirt on palms
changed
marred
now survived

reconciliation before dawn

2004-08-01T23:21:00.000-05:00

when the moon turns red
breath ceases
thoughts of a peace-time, hollow in the world
still in the heart

identity once faded, as a candle a’s wax turns to smoke
drops slowly
out of the tears shed for peace-time

when the sun rises
one can breathe deep
close the eyes and warm

traces of mossy air fill the vessel
send it back before peace-time

it is unwarranted
invasive
like a rock to water,
stirring

clouds roll past the sun
time is erased

Grace captures the soul
wraps it in leaves of violet, so easily bruised

dew drops gliding down blades of grass
pushing through soil-rock

flowers bare themselves to the sky
moon is still
sun pierces cloud
peace cradles air

breathe deep . . . in this moment
do not gulp