Untitled XIX

Fissures come from earthquakes
and it was an earth quaking
my earth trembling first
then undulating to his force.
Earth resists – that’s why it breaks –
and I said no [I said no]
until I stopped
because I was so very empty
from the last quake
and he was filling me.
I fissured with his taking
pale earth crumbling, splitting
red bands of hidden dirt
shaken free.
His waves moved through the earth
and then subsided, rumbling,
and I am left,
fissured.

Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless.wordpress.com.

Untitled XVIII

The voice of the wind is nameless
here it rips tears through sagebrush
and its rush against rock is the sound
of fine sandpaper on soft wood
“shh-shushhhh” it whisper-roars
in long syllables cut
off abruptly at the end of the desert’s breath.

Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless.wordpress.com.

Untitled XVII

I wore a sparkly skirt today.
A female colleague says she likes it,
says, “that’s how you get guys
because they notice your butt.”
I am silent.

Let me paint a scene:
a lecture hall, packed
with my department, 100 people,
and two legends in our field about to speak.
I wore a sparkly skirt today.
A female colleague likes it,
says, “that’s how you get guys
because they notice your butt.”
I am silent.
I am silent.

Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless.wordpress.com.

Sevenling: Blue sweater

These are a blue sweater,
horn-rimmed glasses, forgotten
ink-smudged fingers.

She is bright,
rose petal soft, quivering
adjusting her shirt,

covering black traces of touch.

A Sevenling for today’s prompt on dVerse: http://dversepoets.com/2016/04/07/dverse-meeting-the-bar-the-sevenling-form/. Go check out the other contributions!

Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless.wordpress.com.

Driving through Texas on the second day of the new year

Spanish moss hangs greybearded
and dripping in a Texas coastal rain
lending wisdom to live oaks

tired, not just their beards but even
branches sighing towards the earth.
A pale blue house gels through fog,

rain-blurred pixels crisping into
paint-peeling siding and faded white
window trim with a wraparound porch.

This porch needs a live oak chair
and greybeard wagging, somewhere nearby
echoes of laughter and children racing

through the wraparound. But the house
dissolves in mist as I am watching and a
pale blue warehouse runs beside the

highway, forward along the highway,
through the great stumps and smooth-planed
grass. There are no greybeards anymore.

Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless.wordpress.com.

data entry

this is peace, i think
that delving into data
soothes my mind with details.
and there is something about this data,
tiny insects waiting to become
numbers in a spreadsheet,
the resistance of pins
entering metallic bodies,
the almost-silent sound of my fingers
brushing against wings
that no longer flutter,
reminding me of what i am,
we are.

Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless.wordpress.com.

Written for the peace challenge on dverse.

Untitled XV

I do not want to learn your way of writing
though I can taste your thoughts,
smooth pearls spilling from translucent shells,
their saltiness roughening my skin.

Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless.wordpress.com.

Written for the synethesia challenge on dVerse. Check it out!

Untitled XIV

I want to tell you that you saved me
but I am a woman and that would not be roaring.
There is this little bit of pride, too,
this feeling that I could save myself,
if I had to
(if I wanted to)
but we both know that’s a lie…
except I am this curious mix of needing to be saved
and really, actually…fine.

Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless.wordpress.com.

New poem: Beauty, published in Reverie

BEAUTY

He told me I was beautiful
but blunt fingers rearranged my shapes
and the difference in our masses
collapsed my vertebrae
into their impressions.
I thought,
“I am no longer
beautiful.”

But the next one told me
I was beautiful
and the next
and the next
and I thought beauty was vulnerability
scars laid down like onions reassembling.

“You are beautiful”, he says
and it’s almost not a crime
as I unravel
with the tearing of my clothes
and there is nothing left
for him to do.

Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless.wordpress.com.

This poem has just been published in the first issue of Reverie magazine released today! Check it out! The entire magazine will be available free for Amazon Kindle Oct. 10-14, and costs $0.99 today and after 10/14. Print versions are available on Amazon for $6.99.

Untitled XIII

Your back still has zits sometimes
(I am staring at one now)
and it grows more hair every year it seems
I love not the zits that you
pop while I am watching but
to have known you long
enough to see you change.

Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless.wordpress.com.

Written for the “gift” prompt at dVerse: http://dversepoets.com/2015/10/06/poetics-what-is-your-gift/