Poetry – “The Body”


UndonePhoto by Me



The Body // by Jennifer Patino


The body,
the body

I see myself
floating outside of my body

I am above my body,
and I realize
that these things
are happening
to someone else

Some other little girl
is thinking she can fly
at the family reunion,
and the umbrella she holds
floats away from her

She is attached, always attached,
to those arms reaching out for her
when all she truly wants is to float away


I am away from my body

The body,
the body

I float up above
the girl with metal worms in her hair,
and I remember when I was above myself
surrounded by sand everywhere
while seagulls pecked at me
and kept me silent with the threat of talons

I float above a hospital bed
and into the box above my head

I seep into the speaker cracks,
and see the technician as he watches me

The girl in the bed is twitching,
and my mind channel is switching
to the last time I saw a last breath taken

“Blue Cow”
“Red Dog”

The tech is calling my name

I am Blue Cow
I am Red Dog

I am awake and wondering what he’s talking about


I am above my body

The body,
the body

on the front porch
and I see my friends encircling
a figure resembling me

I see myself open my eyes

I see myself seeing myself
hovering above my loved ones,
and they are blurry mists, colorless,
obscuring my spirit
for the last time

I see myself listening to them
at my bedside,
but I cannot respond;
I hear them say
I am the best person they’ve ever known

I leave and go back to the ghost of me
lying on the wooden floor,
and that is someone else’s head
being knocked into the boards
by a self proclaimed Holy Man
misusing his power, his weapons

I tell myself there is no danger here,
that he is not present


I am back in my body

The body,
the body

and I have to make myself comfortable
or I’ll miss
the train home

I have to stay feeling
I’m more than a carcass,

more than
used and abused
flesh and bone



This writer is a member of The Literati Mafia.



Poetry – “Angel Light”


angel lampPhoto by Me



Angel Light // by Jennifer Patino


My grandmother’s ghost
illuminates my angel touch lamp
& I know I’ll never stop writing
about ghosts for as long
as I’m not one, for as long
as life says I can

Even then, someone will
write automatically
one day
& it will be me, from beyond
the beyond, & a thought of me
might make something
fall from an earth bound wall

As I write this
the world is falling down,
literally, a map tacked to my wall
slowly wilts to the ground,
& I think of Poltergeist,
but only in a “that’s a good movie” sense,
for I’m sure this minor,
jarring catastrophe
is not an angry paranormal entity,
but indeed, humidity,
for this summer, like all others,
is sweltering

& maybe, I’ve accidentally
performed a conjuring
by playing my grandmother’s music
too loudly to drown out
the spirits of memory
plaguing me,

& maybe this is
the light’s way
of purging me
from all of the darkness
put on me,
& any mortal calamity
is only instilled paranoia
from TV

I’ve learned that
people are scarier than those
not living, that the un-dead aid the most
in re-living, & that no one’s close to giving
up, commending, or ascending,

& that no unexplained phenomena
can scare me quite like
a week long binge on insomnia,
when all my ghosts & demons appear
& everything blends
into all that I fear

I’ve doused this low bulb
with my mind, & all of the specters
have returned to their shadows,
their prophetic presence,
& their secrets, deep inside me
where no one can find

I sit, the dim glow in absentia,
for as long as I need to,
grieving over being left behind



This writer is a member of The Literati Mafia.



#FlashbackFriday – Poetry – “Prescribed”





Prescribed // by Jennifer Patino


it’s a meat puppet game / they’re playing / with my head / my brain / my feelings / but I must not surrender my soul //

horse pills / followed by the little red pills / don’t forget to take your pills / i won’t / don’t hurt yourself / i won’t / do you feel like hurting yourself? / i won’t answer / any side effects? //

dizziness / nausea / inducing while ingesting / my hands are shaking / i’m not eating / but my clothes aren’t fitting / i’m not trying to say you’re fat but, you’re definitely not skinny anymore / eat more this / don’t eat that / forget what i just said because things have changed now //


take more blood / blow more veins /
does it hurt? / this might hurt / tell me if it hurts //


they mean when


lost / brave / strong, but fading / candle wick burning low / it’s almost dawn / where has sleep gone? / i think this may be a vicious nightmare / a torturous punishment for an old crime / but it’s not / because it’s too real / it’s just too cruel / and too real


August 21, 2010



This writer is a member of The Literati Mafia.



#FlashbackFriday – Poetry – “Kate Winslet”


katewinsletPhoto Courtesy of Cosmopolitan UK



Kate Winslet // by Jennifer Patino



You don’t really want to
stay here with the women,
do you?” Loud, obnoxious
pig-laughter. Her eyes
widen in “I-told-you-so”.

The way her head turns
to look him dead in the
eye after he slaps her.

The inflection in her voice
when she screams at her
mother to shut up.

Her tears on the edge
of the boat when she wants
to give up.



A scowl amongst the
rosy faced choir steals
your heart.
Your little tongue behind
the teacher’s back steals hers.
Giggling, gorgeous grand
Creative, controlling high
Your defiance defines you.
You numb your tears with
visions of a magical

Folie à deux— you bring her too.
Frollicking, fancy and free.


The way your head turns
the day you leave the hospital
and you kiss her and
then kiss your father. He
appears disgusted.

Your screams of separation,
your murderous ambition,
how you would do anything
for love.

How you straighten your
skirt and put your hair
behind your ears repeatedly.
Nervous. Adrenaline. You would
tear that napkin to shreds
if it weren’t made of thick cloth.

You sing as you bash
that woman’s head
in so you won’t have
to feel just how heavy
that brick is or
just how fucked up this
whole plan is.

Your screams of separation grow louder.



Now you have “come with me
eyes. A bindi on your forehead.
You’ve found yourself,
so your family plans your

You can cry now and it
isn’t enough for them.


Exiting is a precious exercise,” Harvey Keitel says.


Embodiment of girl rock.
In a sari.
You oughta know’ that this
is me, mum.

He’ll straighten you out, girlie.”
Your happiness is a threat
and a crime. They strip
you of your garments and
remind you they love you.
You scream family secrets
in response.

The Halfway Hut.
The mind is a rebel.
It is no servant.
This man thinks giving a blowjob
is a cure for
a panic attack.
Keep breathing.

And he breaks you
and you give yourself
to him covered in
your own piss.
This is how you get
your control back:
By dressing him in your dress
and make-up and helping
him see you see him.

Be kind, Kate.
Be kind.



Later on you’re so
abusive toward Jim Carrey
but we give you a pass.
We forgive you
because we see all
you’ve been through. And
your rainbow colored
hair is just too adorable.
We all see who we want
to be in you even when
you’re mean and



Next, you’re a mother.
Such a good mother you
are too. Your children
throw tantrums after
you die. And that is
what does it, Kate.
After all you’ve lived through,
all you’ve survived,
it’s motherhood that finally kills you.



Then in some futuristic
dystopian afterlife
you’re resurrected.
But you’re so evil
and even more controlling
that we have to keep
hoping that you’ll just
die again already.
How many times will
my love for you live
and die again, Kate
Winslet?      For how

You even yelled at Leo once

(but he deserved it).

He’ll never get you, Kate.
I’ll never get you, Kate.
I’m just watching you
degrade all these leading
men on the side of the
road from the window of
a passing car
with too bright headlights
that you can’t even see.

You do this with your
mere presence.
No one can hold a
spotlight to you.

My head turns this time,
but it can’t turn far
away from
every little thing you do.


I made some revisions to one of my favorite poems I’ve ever written. I write a lot about different movies, I’m just not always so obvious about it. This one was originally drafted on June 8, 2016. Special thanks to Kate Winslet, Titanic, Heavenly Creatures, Holy Smoke!, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Finding Neverland, Divergent, & Revolutionary Road for providing inspiration.




#NaPoWriMo – Day 18: “You’re the Only One I’ve Told This To”




You’re the Only One I’ve Told This To // by Jennifer Patino


You told me my every day voice sounds different,
and it’s because it’s actually mine

For once, I took a shoulda and
made a “would you look at that”

I was heard this time, not just
background music,   or a surface scene track

So when you decided to write off my sophomoric soliloquies,
you crumbled the last best year of my life

to the dust and dirt,          where my Gram went
that summer when I returned barely speaking

I wrote barely skimming my grief,   and my
escape routes, my admitted defeat

I wrote constantly with you in mind,   I sang
all the songs you requested

I took all of your recommendations to heart,
so now is not the time to start aiming

suggestions scaled to fit you at me;
We live in a world where comments are over-encouraged,

sour honey sentiments
and poisonous passive aggressive barbs

No blockade can make you un-see,
and no dull blade will make you un-feel

No, you are not going to un-hear me
here in this pixelated Paradise,

in this high-speed Hell            You will
make sure I spill it all like rose oil,

You will sniff toxic LA air in so deeply
to try and cover up the sickly, sweet smell
of my decaying truth