A Thousand Words

poems

I’m a quiet person, but I have loud thoughts and vivid idea’s. I am creative and impatient and I’m passionate about writing. So my words come across as strong and loud.

If you meet me, you might think I’m quiet and reserved, but I’m just in a constant state of thought. I like to listen and ponder, and when I do its usually written down. But just because I’m quiet in person doesn’t mean I don’t have something to say.

Maybe some people are so loud in person, they don’t let anyone else speak. But that’s okay I admire these outspoken people, but it’s just not for me.

But, because I am quiet it hasn’t got me to the places I want to be. Well not fast anyway. But again that’s okay because I’ll take my time. Sometimes slow and steady wins the race?

Jen xxx

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Fuck It

I wrote this poem, with tears in my eyes, for the words are real and raw. I’ve always struggled to believe in myself and especially my writing. But it seems I’ve turned a point in my life now and there’s no going back. I’m realising that I can write. And am going to, no matter what. So ‘fuck it’ can be my mantra. Because I’m moving out of my comfy home and into the wild 😜

Thanks to my dear friend Cassie for the mantra 💗

Vanished

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Imagine, one morning waking at dawn. The colours of yellow and burnt orange warm your skin. You open your eyes and search your surrounds, everything that once was, gone. Your world blank. Your loved ones vanished, your career and professional life irrelevant in a new world. Your home a distant memory. It is just you and things you own. Emptiness grips your throat and your breath laboured. You’re left cold.

Everything that was important to you yesterday, replaced by times rapid clock. How do you move out forward?
In this life, we’re constantly thriving to achieve financial success. Chasing materials to fill a deep void. Masking our sadness with bigger and better products.

But what happens when you awaken; from this life created? Will you look back and love the things you have brought? Or will you remember the people who travelled beside you? Moved through the thick hours of time, and supported you with love, and action.

As time ticks by, remember it is only fleeting, that one day the hands will stop, will you be left with all your possessions or will you choose love?

 

Image courtesy of http://aracelirldeloleoalcincel.blogspot.com/2016/08/richard-avedonel-hombre-que-revoluciono.html

To Wear Our Scars?

 

There is a scar
that covers about three inches of skin
on soft tissue,
just above your breast,
it runs a jagged line
it reminds me of a flower vine
creeping up your neck,
faded in time
a silver tattoo left,

Does it feel different on the tongue?
I run my lips across the serrated point
Quickening with every lick,
Each mark holds a depth untold
I feel a beating pulse within –
more than just a hollow organ;
a heart of its own
flowing in feelings.

This scar that is visible
carried upon your chest
weighing too heavy
for you to undress
like a photograph –
a moment never forgotten.
A permanent welt.
A visible form.

If the scar wasn’t there to remind you?
Could you forget it?

Thoughts

It’s been on my mind –the idea of a scar. We all have scars. Some are visible, some hidden and those buried so deeply, that we are ourselves are shocked to find they are there.

Does wearing our scars in different ways affect our-self?
Do we carry them for everyone to see?
Or hide them so deeply, that we forgot them, for a time.

Because even if we bury our burdens, they have a way of resurfacing.
Is it better to wear our scars?

WRITTEN BY J.CALVERT 2016

ALL PHOTOGRAPHS BELONG TO TALENTED PHOTOGRAPHER ANNA O.PHOTOGRAPHY 2015