jstjwkes

[jstjwkes]

Body talks

At 9 years old I would be sitting at the kitchen counter when my mom would pinch my nose praying it would grow, she told me that her mom did it to her too when she was younger... I guess she figured she'd do the same for me. I learned even back then to examine my own face, singling out the parts to hate. My patchy eyebrows, the potato chip birthmark on my cheek and a nose too flat even for my own mother to love. I didn't realize then what I know now after years of being a body.

At 12 I saw how everybody left their old selves and traded up for new parts, the boys in science class would snap on girls bra straps and I slumped over conscious of my own chest that wasn't there. My mom would remind me over and over to keep my back straight. One day she looked to me sitting at the kitchen counter, she complained about my posture, my back already straight and stiff.

That was the year the girls all got training bras but I got a fiber glass back brace. It stuck to my skin under my school polo uniform. I wore it for 23 hours everyday for a year, a reminder of my crooked spine. I thought, here was my mom finding fault in me again, but this time she even got a doctor's diagnosis.

At 17 I learned that a boy might love me for what my body could give him. He told me that my nose looked just fine and that he preferred a smaller chest, he called me beautiful and never said a thing about my posture and I thought finally-here is somebody who loves all the parts of me but when he eventually tossed me aside it was my mother who held each broken piece of me while it took it's time to heal.

Now at 23 ,It has taken some time to remember how this body carries this bleeding heart, it is merely a vessel but a breathing one that allows me all the good and all the bad. Each part of me awake a little crooked, a little flat but a lot alive. I remember myself at 9 at 12 at 17 and I forgive myself for making mistakes, for being imperfect.

Still, today my mom gives me hell. She will tell me I've gained more weight in that loaded tone, a warning almost, but I know better. I know now when she says "I don't like those shorts ,you should change" that what she really means is "I love you, I worry that the world will be unkind".

[jstjwkes]

late submissions.

go ahead- write something

april poetry month

4/6/22

Luck of the draw

Bottlecap chances , hinged on the day

that's what we were, the odds played out

my winning paramour

My prize at last

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4/7/22

I should be in bed

Asleep, tucked in thumbs out

I.. should be in bed not wandering the streets for things on sticks to dip

I should be in bed not Looking down earholes for the latest stich

Snores should sound, dreams - made, instead I've found my way back up the merry-go round

I ought to get back in bed, where warm covers await

instead of up the hill waiting for the sun late for it's date

nothing tires me still , I round myself to sleep

Tomorrow when night comes, who knows what else there'll be

Swashbuckling heroes, Outer space fights ,what a sight!

But for now

Sweet Dreams, Goodnight

[jstjwkes]

It's April (again)

writing for the sake of writing, play for the sake of fun ,die for the mistake of living, escape for what's done. Happy poetry month

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Buffet

Susan from brunch say hello, the lift on her brow drowned, Jello to her toes , It's in the exhaust -The roe . The bill we figure tomorrow

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Do rhyme

Do the time, the pantomime, the maritime dance

Do the waltz, each crisscross faults, often, not the choice I make

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Smile for me Mona Lisa

She carries the ammunition deep in her dimples

The secret beneath her lashes, the message just below her chin

She'll tell you if you promise not to look .

[jstjwkes]

Amour, Colette

Part II. Henry Gauthier-Villars

fictional letters. Iconic French novelist Colette corresponding to her historic greatest lovers.

My dear Henry, I must have you to thank, for all the love born against you. All of Willy's prizes unearned, the start of it all.

It was a certain pleasure to have created for you, there is no greater intimacy I've experienced than the thrill to be you. To share between us all. How young does one have to be to stay naïve? Or is it... how naïve one must be to stay young?

My dear Henry, we shared the same restless ambition, you saw me through my blossom and no exclusions were made to the reach of us.

Oh willy, oh why...your prized mind. I know your deepness reaches my darkest. I lived to be you, to love you. You must know if I didn't care at all how could I let you intermind, this parallel might never cease, but for you I will.

Amour , Colette

[jstjwkes]

Amour, Collette

fictional letters. Iconic French novelist Colette corresponding to her historic greatest lovers.

Part I. Mathilde de Morny.

“What is here the longing more than other, Here in this mad heart? And who the lovely One beloved that wouldst lure to loving? 

-Ode to Aphrodite

My Missy, my Max... 

Let Sappho sing of turmoil still, of lips to bury, yearning for the fire which one was, which shall be- of burning Stages that light tomorrows day. To not cower at ignorance is the least of it- I  revel stead at the lit stake. No penance shall be made of what is ours.

I remember despite all restraints-the rupturing wood ,your silent smile, a mimes kiss to life. These pleasures I keep...these Impurities purest-unbeknownst him. This beating repeats itself in tones never to cease the mimicking of  your own.

You see. the sands of time are deep in Belle Plage. I lay still on grains and allow myself to be swallowed, a sweet transport into dreams of Ancient ,of when I held  you still. Your piece I  keep on my mantles heart, your honor preserved in it.

Amour, Colette

[jstjwkes]

Yearning, 1973, Helen Frankenthaler

[jstjwkes]

April

In honor of poetry month here are a few rough poems i wrote throughout  4/20, posted in hopes that i try to write more and try not to hate all of it. Happy April.

Festin

Set across, spread divine

Scurried toes run to Taste-test 

Gorged finger from below

Piss from the top floor

Floor the feast, indulge 

Come eat, eat.

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Glow-up

Moth wing lips caress, undress

Shedding skin, a horizontal digress

Moldier, older trans formative reassess

Again and again 

 Like a winding spiral, only backwards

My brain skipping on tripping loose wires

please, dear put my sequined liver to rest

cause when you’re down where else is there to go left?

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Ignore

distressing, the switch ,the bait we dangle between

another reason for destruction ,then rehabilitation 

we kid ourselves, losing touch with whats already happened

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Clorox

brown paper towel flowers folded over chalky black counter tops

we defect from the mess, clean too extreme 

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3 am 

your sounds are imprinted still, dangling from my earlobes

like the weight of your feet coming up the stairs, creaking on the steps

the click-clacking, your mind working, hands typing ,the sound of a thought

maybe i didn’t hear that one, maybe you clued me in long ago 

a whispered confession a long the tracks that played through the days 

stead i got silence on the other end of the line, the remains of a frustrated goodbye

maybe if i play the record backwards the lopsided bass will spell it all out

the lyrics then revealing, spooling themselves out from my mouth

i would have sung it too , your revelation , i would have sung it like i did every part of our song.

My fingers they can still free hand your quizzed expression, your distant stare

 your form on that lonely chair

the water streams along your arms, every tattoo, every scar 

i once traced by hand, savoring for the memory i knew it would be 

id draw you out to life 

but then you’d just be lines, the same figure 

humming the same old tune-only quieter this time.

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bacon wrapped

Is nothing as sweet? as dire?

as petite feet over wool

blanketed toes that peek

is nothing as small? as fragile? as meek?

[jstjwkes]

Book review#1: Holes by Louis Sachar

Holes by Louis Sachar a book review by Juliana Regalado

Despite all the hype surrounding this book i was able to get into it with very little expectation and very little background,my only prior knowledge of the book is  its successful reputation making itself almost mandatory reading for many elementary school students which led to an adaptation with Shia LaBeouf?  i'm one of the few people who didn’t read this as a child and I regret not having read it , I think i would have enjoyed this book so much more if i had read it when i was younger( not to say i didn't enjoy reading it now ) .The book is afterall YA and reads like a respectable piece of YA so the story would have hit 6th grade me a lot harder and felt a lot more personal.

Holes is a 1998 young adult novel written by Louis Sachar and first published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux. The book centers on an unlucky teenage boy named Stanley Yelnats, who is sent to Camp Green Lake, a juvenile corrections facility in a desert in Texas, after being falsely accused of theft.

For a young adult novel Holes surprised me with its tone and direction never averse with the intense and adult it created a great balance between serious and the fantastical, which is a very different experience from what iv’e had with the YA genre .I can easily see myself re-reading this years from now and enjoying it just the same. Impressively the book also packed without any force many themes that would make any English teacher drool, illiteracy, racism the social class system the injustices of the mother fucking justice system!!

The story’s main plot follows main character Stanley and his unlucky circumstance , written alongside are flashbacks of characters related to Stanley which really gave an otherworldly feel . I’ts easy to see how well this novel could translate into film ,the plot introduced details at a very good pace and the story felt both universal and nostalgic all the characters were wildly interesting for a book 22 years old it had the coolest setting and enough realism and fiction to keep things always interesting.

My favorite part about any story and what this story did marvelously well was tying up together all the subtleties, nothing is as satisfying as putting together the last piece to a puzzle. Holes is no mystery thriller but finally seeing the conclusions between sub-plots and putting two and two together gave me such a huge lady boner. Making it a completely rewarding read.

This neo-fairy tale is not unlike but also just as all the ones before, a very solid sweet quick read. 

Plot 4/5

Writing 4/5

Entertainment 4/5

Overall 4/5!

[jstjwkes]

Hope Gangloff (American, b.1974) - Couch Surfer, 2015