jessicawritesnow

Just another WordPress.com site

Jessica Memo reads “Labor” December 31, 2012

 

Advertisements
 

The IBrain (Like IPad) A Generation Of Gorgers December 14, 2012

I am thirty eight years old and I sprouted a new head three and one half years ago by denying me what I thought were necessary and pleasureful potions. At last, my pores could breathe and the synapses started to fire correctly. My right arm continues to jerk on its own schedule. It sucks when I’m holding a hot cup of joe or smoking a cigarette. The detriment to this part of my brain that leads my arm to misfire, a tourette of a limb if you will, I may decide to ponder a bit more on the weird and strange occasions when my right arm jerked, and well that spoke for me as far as being a jerk. No coincidences infidels.

As a result of my greed of anything feel good with no discretion skills consulted I lived a life of a revolving rat wheel. I killed the rat. I liked to impersonate the wheel too too much. Mass consumption will lead to mass congestion; worse than every person ever witnessed. Jesus I’m sorry but your kicked out of Our Towne good lord to me you’re another body to squeezed onto the terrain of this globe.

I feel horrible about dastardly conditions becoming universally urgent and unacceptable. So I write elicit a chuckle WTF.

Just pay attention always. Stay tuned in but not. Help in a positive way; your way.

No feministing this shit. Please. My IBrain  I designed for my quirky tastes only.

My Apps all include words and order. I provide the creativity.

 

Mind/Mood Altered by Substances October 28, 2012

 

Poison

flowed thru every artery

every vein, and my life-time

promise to boil  my brain convened.

I aimed to live my life in vain and insane.

In tatters this, what matters, never that,

If you are not God highlighted step away.

In fact, watch out for stray lightning bolts

which want a person to feel electronightified.

Every one else in the vicinity of this universe

Scientists believe smog enhances your life–

Smog also clouds your vision. Light sticks…

I hate you too– you fucking mirror, oh my,

dear wrecking mirror clinging for life on a

random wall– all you show is the horror of

my neglect, Promise me, than mock me, but

swear this is my last call in front of  a mirror.

Then assure me, with the recipe in my hand,

when I ingest on my behest, I’m on the way

to the Real Fall. Jig’s up Jesus, you fell on

pillow principles, watch a true murderer of

the cause. Not a single breath wasted.

 

Engage in some. (So I don’t feel like I must) October 10, 2012

Labor

I push the rock up the hill,

so hard it falls down the other side.Image

Slowly, I walk up the hill,

and down the other side.

It looks the same–another hill.

Once more I push the rock up the hill,

so hard it falls down the other side.

I struggle to walk up the hill,

then down the other side.  Great.

It looks like a mountain this time.

Another hill piled upon another hill.

Again I push the rock up the mountain,

so hard it falls down the other side.

Now I’m crawling up the mountain

Then my old bones tumble down— I ache.

As I lay weary and tired…sleep descends

upon my ragged body…I dream of

cumulus clouds puffy and mountainous.

I lay there asleep  in a ball.  The rock rested.

Seriously, What the hell is the point?

.

 

Urban Art in Lisbon: Pessoa’s Home Town Today March 23, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — jessicawritesnow @ 2:55 pm
Tags: , , , ,
Urban Street Art

That's the cue for the wolf to come around the corner--the rest of the text remains unwritten. Or not acted out to fulfill the traditional beginning and end of a drama.

Look at her because she wants you to, observe

her now. Observe her later. She ages in accordance

with the pain(ts) life on the stone, or the stones

personal erosion, or perhaps,  just by the un-

reliability of my perception combined with the

grandfather of all injustices:  time. Today, I love

her. The red cloak and vitality reassure me. Not yet

Jessica.  The writing is on the wall. She neither loves

it or hates it.  As I prepare for the next corner to round

with my vision on hold I inhale. When my faith, based

on how dark the ink looks when it bleeds onto a

canvas I exhale. Yes to all of your questions. The battle

ends. The battle begins. No matter, I remain on stone–

as if it were a fortress I protect. I put on my red shawl–

I gather all the stuff I dump into my basket that comforts

me. Goodbye to all–this corner invited me, not you to

to follow the path that goes around it. Blessings all. You

have heard my call.

 

 
The Opposite of Bestseller

This is what happens when the "Great American Novel" goes awry.

Artist Portfolio Magazine

An Independent Art Magazine

Art on the Run

We pump the sigh, swoon and lift of the heel into Love!

@lissnup

Searching for Freedom via Social Media

Fortyteen Candles

Oh, let's see...distinguished Gen-X'er, frustrated writer and mom living in the confines of a small town that thinks it's a big deal. And have I mentioned Walmart yet?

Hiking Photography

Beautiful photos of hiking and other outdoor adventures.

Top 10 of Anything and Everything!!!

Animals, Gift Ideas, Travel, Books, Recycling Ideas and Many, Many More

Diamond Mike Watson

Jeweler, Time Traveler, Author, and Why Mom Deserves a Diamond contest founder.

Stories

Rick Mallery

Ottoman Dandy

Sartorial adventures of an ottoman dandy in search of true elegance

mysuccessisyoursuccess

Just another WordPress.com site

silkroadcollector.me

An International company that offers private antique art sales to clients around the globe.

sethsnap

Photographs from my world.

Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas

** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **

lostcompanion

Alcoholism

Break Room Stories

Service Industry Stories and More Since 2012

bottledworder

easy reading is damn hard writing

Paying Attention To The Sky

No one was paying attention to the sky...

%d bloggers like this: