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Jess is my real name, writing from the sandy shores of Australia. Mainly poetics and good coffee. Journey with me. Open to work

Let me be real with you

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I’m going to be real with you,
this life can be challenging,
it can be grueling at times.
There will be days, when
you need to f i g h t for your rights.
There will be days, when
the war w i t h i n will be raging,
where an event s h a k e s
all that you believed in.
You’ll fall in love and lose it,
only to pick it up again
and revel in its m e s s.
Yes, defining it all
will be exhausting.
But I want you to remember
to look to the stars when you’re
fa l l I n g…

Flash Fiction

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It’s our night, just you and me. We’re seated comfortably, watching the flicker of the candle in the middle of the, not so stable, table. The french doors are opened wide tonight, allowing our faces to feel the gentle sea breeze.

An acoustic guitarist is playing a soft, romantic, tune in the distance. It fills the restaurant with a velvet-like vibe, that is undoubtedly dancing its way to the rolling waves adjacent.

I know you’ve already made a mental assessment of the measurements required to fix this stability issue with our table. We both ignore it.

A Poem

Image by WF

An unexpected surprise
of oceans under eyelids
of smiles so naturally wide
I have to pause to
b r e a t h e between
the moments that feel like
years in the making.

Organically we synchronize
savoring the magic pressed
between each touch of
lips gliding tounges to lips
the drips of skin on skin
and the heat of the moment
that lingers long after
the arrival.

You untangle me,
you hold me closer now
and the silence is a comfort
a moment of pure, sensual bliss.
Your hand is still in mine
and I am okay to drift.

In Contemplation

My new local beach. Photo by Wild Flower

Sometimes, these words they rest on the tongues tip, buried deep in the abyss of everything I wanted to say, but didn't.

Everything I wanted to dream without providing myself the allowance of believing it was possible. The glimmer of hope and the alignment of internal stars.

The mapping of myself.

It was only the sky that was listening, ever briefly, she nudged me and I swear at that moment it was the closest I've felt to being embraced for all that I am.

This is when it hit me, go where the wind carries you, walk with the sea…

Photo by Kate Hliznitsova on Unsplash

Soft and heavy, middle sweet
finer moments within the beat
toes will wriggle heads will bind
I’ll keep sipping on this lilac wine

Brightness sweeps honeyed eyes
unleashed hips tingling thighs
notes are heavy sight is blind
I’ll dance it out with lilac wine

Splendor rises through the vein
tears escape, and smiles remain
freedom wrapped ignite divine
I’ll inspire you with lilac wine

Flowing dress twirling delight
twinkling s t a r s into the night
summer whispers read the signs
I’ll keep sipping this lilac wine

If you like what you read, consider my publication on your follow…


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Sinking, please just
s u s p e n d me
I’m screaming into the mist
no f o o t i n g beneath me to
see ahead of myself.

T o r n pages surround me
my story is in all its
d glory.

Caught in the wind of
the darkening sky
that does not lend me
moonlight tonight.

I’m clutching myself
stiff from the
frightening sounds
b e a t i n g
into the sides of me.

Not a single breath
is taken, my chest is
a frozen cavity

Ahh some great imagery! You really reeled me into your journey.

I remember sharing my first nature poem (at the time I was a closet writer who mainly dabbled in gloomy stuff), it was written with my bum in the sand, very early in the morning, viewing the most spectacular sunrise I'd ever seen. A few years later I left Australia, for what would be, a three year journey around the world. I saw some incredible views, but that place, where that poem was first shared, will always be home.

Thanks for sharing your moment and reminding me of mine.

Creek & Sea — Author Image

A Poem

Another meeting about a meeting,
a reminder of the chains that tighten,
the status quo and the flow of what
it takes to survive the grind of
nine to five in this petulant world.

I guess I’ll log on today, smile and wave
as if dollars can fill the sting of it all.
I watch myself fall into the system.
Ten days for your illness paid,
not much of a price to pay
for the tax of your soul.

Mental health is mental
because the roots are not explored,
band-aid the pain away in this modern-day
of dealing with nothing…

Where Wild Things Grow Prompt: Round 2

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Hello, my weird and wonderful creatives. Wherever you are in the world I hope your pen is full and your mind is in a good place. If it is not, I welcome you here, regardless. I look forward to whatever your version of wild is.

Firstly, I’d like to personally thank everyone for their contribution in our first round. Whether you submitted your work or read and left some claps or a comment, it doesn't matter to me, I’m here for community. It’s an honor to host your work.

With loving arms and open ears, I invite you to let…

Wild Flower

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