Joli's Journal

Joli's Journal


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6 entries this month

First Draft

20:17 Jan 20 2007
Times Read: 2,139

Hello? You there, sir! Have you fallen asleep in your chair?

I beseech you, wake to your work once more.

What now? Where will you send me; who will I meet?

I crave conflict. Oh, lift your pen!

You are a master of setting. My world is rich,

A humid place populated by man and bug with a taste for blood.

We get it…I live here, love here, dream here.

Send me a storm! Make me grow.

Are you drunk there? Lost and stoned? I hold no judgement.

A better drug, perhaps. I’ll be your heroine.

Take your vorpal sword in hand

And send brillig, slithy toves and I will be your beamish girl!

Where is my climax? Yes, bawdy sir, I’ll have my climax now!

Bard me a tempest of rising and falling waves;

Cast me away to a brave new world.

Villain! Oh villainy, slip out of the shadows and embrace me.

Do you love me still? Free me from this tower in your mind.

Pen me an O.Henry ending to my Dickens day.

Make me want to turn a new leaf.

Love me. Hate me. Ink me to your chest, your heart, the page.

I implore you, author me!



03:22 Nov 07 2011

I don't know how I ended up down here at the bottom of memory lane, but I seem to have become lost. Will it really have been 5 years since you wrote this in just a few weeks? I still remember seeing it for the first time, pasted into our window, with your name before each line.

20:39 Nov 12 2011

Oh, those nostalgic irc windows. I wax on about you, too. Love you.


Once Upon Another Day Just Like Today

22:43 Jan 17 2007
Times Read: 2,157

On the lush lawn of St. Charles Avenue,

Braceleted by the streetcar line

Lay the slain and broken child,

New Orleans’ grim but true little boy blue.

Death granted but one mercy to the spent little one,

Shading his face from full view

With oleander leaves jeweled in dew,

One last kindness for her violated little son.

When the keening began, its pitch filled the sky

And the suited man fell to his knees,

Mourning the deal that would not be.

“Oh, inconvenient! Not in my front yard,” he cried.

Then all was chaos, tires, boots, and light.

Media headlined the stricken, weeping man,

Made him a soundbite and stuffed him in a can

To gorge the world upon commercial sites.

Reporters roared

And profits soared,

The sad little package escorted off to fanfare

Never known in life, a mockery for death to bear.



10:03 Dec 29 2008

Even when you venture out of your element, you're so totally in your element that your words make my reading embarrassingly unworthy.


Loom Eternal

11:01 Jan 17 2007
Times Read: 2,167

When in the crystal pool I first beheld you, angel sweet at rest,

Oh cherub child, my heart was ever yours!

That eve I spun for you, my princeling, a knight’s noble quest,

A fine dream filament of fondest boyhood hours,

Weaving through the night to your bonnie bed there in the west.

Unfinished silks lay at my feet, and multitudes weep my skill

To fly my shuttle for them once again.

But my fingers play for you and pluck into each strand the soft and secret trill

Of ancient worlds that sang of swords and men.

Years wefting inspiration to your cloth, I weave for you still.

In sweet paralysis of sleep, your parted lips I kissed a thousand times.

Now arrayed in finest cloak, I spin you to the crystal sea

A splendid currach launched silently by a maiden’s sleepy rhyme.

Spirited windlessly, you alone, adrift upon my dream

Where breath is sky and oceans sigh while I weave my own design.





00:52 Jan 05 2007
Times Read: 2,273

Why did you have to say it? You remove all my choices when you do and I have to watch you drown in a sea of blue, an ocean of brass and bravado that crests above your gentle need and sucks you down into the whirling red and blue undertow. I still hold the crackers and devilled ham, my insufficient offering.

I shout impotently into the whir, "Meds! Depression! Puppy! Homeless!" and affect nothing. When the storm recedes and I hear my heart in my own ears, I roll your bicycle inside and rest it against the peanut butter, angry at anything that can rest. Angry at the half-eaten transient fare that has begun to wick grease up the sides of the bag.

And I absolutely cannot mourn. I will not feel this. You are nobody to me, because you will be back today. It won't be you, but there you'll be and I will look for anything to hold onto so that the tug I already feel at my feet will not be for me. I'll offer you up again. I will because I must, so don't you fucking say it.





00:05 Jan 04 2007
Times Read: 2,294

You whisper my name softly in your sleep

And your little boy mouth bows up in smile.

The sheets twist and pleat across my left thigh

In a rakish Caravaggio modesty.

The hair that I kissed damply stains the pillow now and

I study the rise and fall of your chest with a focused intensity.

How many times have I rested my cheek there,

Enthralled by the miracle that is your steady heartbeat?

My hips ache under the weight and heat of your casually draped leg

And I don’t move as the ceiling fan struggles to push the heavy air.

My hope is stayed by your anchor of an arm that crushes me to you and

My eyes flick frequently to the hand curled like an eel beside my cheek.

I think of the day you walked on your hands for me as I hurried to class,

To make me laugh, to make me late, to make me linger there.

Now I choke on the desire to rest my cheek and hear your steady heartbeat

No more.




Invocation Of The Nordskip

00:13 Jan 01 2007
Times Read: 1,717

What augury is this min skald,

Your auspiced eyes of Iolite -

This twilight in my step?

I wept for you a snow egret

Full on the wing, a fletching flight

Into the gloaming depth.

What alchemy is this, min fyrste

This gilded stippling of the night,

The midnight sun’s gold breath?



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