Some memories cut
like broken glass.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Thursday, June 26, 2014
The Scribbler [Poetry]
What a lonely art;
that of a scribbler and ink stainer.
An artist speaks of the beauty
his subject possesses as he
immortalizes her upon a canvas,
and a musician laments to all
who hear,
but a writer speaks
only to her page.
This ink I stain is lonely,
this page blank without my company,
this art requiring on myself,
a thoughtful mind,
and a means to scribe.
What a lonely art, that of a scribbler,
but with every word you, dear reader, see,
I find myself less alone.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
that of a scribbler and ink stainer.
An artist speaks of the beauty
his subject possesses as he
immortalizes her upon a canvas,
and a musician laments to all
who hear,
but a writer speaks
only to her page.
This ink I stain is lonely,
this page blank without my company,
this art requiring on myself,
a thoughtful mind,
and a means to scribe.
What a lonely art, that of a scribbler,
but with every word you, dear reader, see,
I find myself less alone.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Friday, June 13, 2014
Falsified Security [Haiku]
I’d rather be safe
in your arms, lulled by your voice,
than by siren songs.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
in your arms, lulled by your voice,
than by siren songs.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Friday, June 6, 2014
2am You [Poetry]
We all write about a 2am somebody.
When the rest of the world melts away, scared off
by the sight of the moon, that someone who steps out
from the shadows to save you.
But I don't want a 2am someone who only seems
to appear when the world is dark.
Selfishly, I want a somebody
who wants to be there despite sunrise or set,
who doesn't scare off because of shadows or
who only appears in the light.
We all write about a 2am somebody...
but I just want you.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
When the rest of the world melts away, scared off
by the sight of the moon, that someone who steps out
from the shadows to save you.
But I don't want a 2am someone who only seems
to appear when the world is dark.
Selfishly, I want a somebody
who wants to be there despite sunrise or set,
who doesn't scare off because of shadows or
who only appears in the light.
We all write about a 2am somebody...
but I just want you.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Harrow Hatchling [Poetry]
If I told you there was a bird entrapped within
the bars of a shining, silver cage, would you think
her trapped, or well-off?
Would you leave her there to sing her tunes,
the saddest maudlin melodies, and think them a
stunning sound?
Is she blessed to have so much, though
never permitted to fly beyond
the limitations of her harrowing cage?
Do you see the beauty of the bird
and hear a sweet song, or the image of a girl
crying out she's treated wrong?
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
the bars of a shining, silver cage, would you think
her trapped, or well-off?
Would you leave her there to sing her tunes,
the saddest maudlin melodies, and think them a
stunning sound?
Is she blessed to have so much, though
never permitted to fly beyond
the limitations of her harrowing cage?
Do you see the beauty of the bird
and hear a sweet song, or the image of a girl
crying out she's treated wrong?
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Monday, June 2, 2014
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Friday, May 16, 2014
Muted Myself [Poetry]
I'm never 'the one who got away,'
nor am I a fish in the sea worth catching.
I'm another lover unloved, so many
scars on my skin from being betrayed,
from unsent letters screaming at me with papercuts,
from the weapon of unspoken words aimed at my own heart.
I'm never the one who got away because
I never stepped forward in the first place.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
nor am I a fish in the sea worth catching.
I'm another lover unloved, so many
scars on my skin from being betrayed,
from unsent letters screaming at me with papercuts,
from the weapon of unspoken words aimed at my own heart.
I'm never the one who got away because
I never stepped forward in the first place.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Survival Instincts [Poetry]
I've gotten too busy
searching for comfort in my own skin
to find a place I fit
within the intricate web of society.
I try to belong but simply get stuck
in one edge of the web or another
amongst spiders who want to drink me dry
until I find a web
where I'm no longer placed as the prey.
When I'm there
will I try not to be a predator on the innocent
or is that the only way to survive?
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
searching for comfort in my own skin
to find a place I fit
within the intricate web of society.
I try to belong but simply get stuck
in one edge of the web or another
amongst spiders who want to drink me dry
until I find a web
where I'm no longer placed as the prey.
When I'm there
will I try not to be a predator on the innocent
or is that the only way to survive?
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Monday, May 5, 2014
You're My Lead Suspect [Six Word Story]
Conducting an
investigation
into stolen hearts.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
investigation
into stolen hearts.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Saturday, May 3, 2014
The Moon’s Shadow Holds Secrets [Poetic Pieces]
She's the dark side
of the moon;
she's a mystery and a muse.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
of the moon;
she's a mystery and a muse.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Friday, May 2, 2014
The Ways She Bleeds [Poetry]
She wears a stoic shell
Impenetrable
One she sheds only
Within the words
She spills as tears upon page
And in the paint she bleeds
In retrospect shades on canvas
Kept unclean.
In the notes her voice flies for
In lyrics she leaves with empty unanswered
In bright lights that shine every elsewhere
In-between the pages she's never read
She sheds everywhere, in all art forms
But seeing her body
They see a shell grotesque
Cracked
Contrived
Instead of all the masterpieces she leaves inside.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Impenetrable
One she sheds only
Within the words
She spills as tears upon page
And in the paint she bleeds
In retrospect shades on canvas
Kept unclean.
In the notes her voice flies for
In lyrics she leaves with empty unanswered
In bright lights that shine every elsewhere
In-between the pages she's never read
She sheds everywhere, in all art forms
But seeing her body
They see a shell grotesque
Cracked
Contrived
Instead of all the masterpieces she leaves inside.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
The Con Artist [Poetry]
You make an art
out of attraction.
Luring lady moths
to you like a fervid flame
to burn their wings
and scorch their hearts horridly.
You break through
the security of ribcages
to steal slow-beating hearts
only to shatter them
when trying to tug
your hands through the bars.
A con artist
who has mastered attraction,
still making an art
of love lasting.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
out of attraction.
Luring lady moths
to you like a fervid flame
to burn their wings
and scorch their hearts horridly.
You break through
the security of ribcages
to steal slow-beating hearts
only to shatter them
when trying to tug
your hands through the bars.
A con artist
who has mastered attraction,
still making an art
of love lasting.
© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush
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