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
stir

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

 

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This writer is a member of The Literati Mafia.

 

 

New Published Flash Fiction + Interview! – The Ginger Collect

 

Hi everyone! I am happy to announce that Issue 6 of The Ginger Collect is now live. This issue includes my flash fiction story The Night the Wind Knocked Back. This is a favorite of mine, & I’m so happy that it has found a home. This is my second time being published by The Ginger Collect & the editors are awesome, so be sure to submit your work to them!

 

GingerCollectIssue6

 

I was also interviewed in this Issue. This is my first interview & it was fun to answer questions about my piece. I hope you enjoy! You can read that here.

 

Thanks so much! Have a great weekend! Happy reading & writing!

 

 

Poetry – “Lenormand #1”

 

 

Lenormand#1Pic

 

 

 

Lenormand #1 // by Jennifer Patino

 

Barrier mountains,

once over,

we’ll be resting in the garden

at the foot of a cross

 

Much faith is required

for that which lies ahead

 

Tricky fox,

sly & cunning,

makes dreams come true

as seen through

misinterpreted

death omens

in the irises of owls

 

Visions written,

of a rich bear

retiring to great heights,

but wealth comes in many forms,

so he’ll die penniless,

but happy,

oh, so happy

 

The way is paved

with strength,

& soon this will be over,

we’ll be over

this obstacle soon

 

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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

 

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This writer is a member of The Literati Mafia.

 

 

Prose – “Where There’s Fire”

fire

 

Where There’s Fire // by Jennifer Patino

 

The room could be burning and I’d
hardly notice. I’m glued to shocking
news and a murky vision view
clouding how I want to feel.

It’s raining advice and soon everyone’s
voice blends together. The caring chorus
becomes a repetitive tornado. A cyclone
that picks me up then tosses me among
thorns or jagged rock. After electrical
storms, I am covered in bruises. Beaten.

I smell smoke but I’m so used to skin
singeing that it mixes with my own
smoldering offering. It is a sacred
fragrance. The smell of medicine.
The mouth watering hunger for the
end of suffering that at times can
feel so close. Can fire destroy fire?

By the looks of things, I may find out.