Instinctual

Agartha

Instinctual

I’m not making any threats or promises
when it comes to your demise.
But, you should damn well have
come to know that look that
rests in my eyes.

How evil is the
scent I wear.
Secreted from my
pores.
Scentless, but
deadly.

And I can’t and
don’t pretend to
suffer small talk.

Packing whole
sentences with
relevant information,
it’s become my obsession.

I have no plans to
start changing my
disposition now.

How would a predator
go about turning itself into prey
anyhow?

 

~Women warriors throughout history have always amazed me and made me felt as though I were a kindred spirit due to the life I’ve lived. From Lilith who wasn’t technically a “warrior.” She just wasn’t ready for the whole submitting role playing that she was expected to succumb to.

From Boudicca to Joan of Arc, these women, were the epitome of a different breed of women altogether. Yes. I know that these warriors go as far back to a famous woman Japanese samurai woman fighter. I love the juxtaposition of the loving, nurturing mother figure that can at the next moment, put on her fighting gear and go fight the Roman legions.

So yes, I’m very aware of the times that we are living in and how violence is so looked down upon. Although, Pulp Fiction’s coming up on it’s 25th year anniversary! Woo hoo! I actually hated that movie when it first came out. I however, love both Kill Bill volumes. For those of you that are not lovers of Tarantino films, the things I love most

About his films, is that it’s usually the least likely person that you’d think would end up coming out on top is the underdog. And who doesn’t like cheering for the underdog? I think I started relating to women like Wonder Woman when I was a small girl growing up. Thinking that I possessed some special power that could save me from any scenario. ~

I Do

Empty Church

I Do

Corporate sponsored free range fucking
like a form of sport hunting,
only meant for short term fulfillment.

The lies and excuses we make.
Elaborate and exaggerated cloaks
cover and protect against the imminent
and guaranteed eventual end.

Time will weather and strip down
these artifices made in vain.
Matrimonial bliss an emotional
glow that fades.

While we celebrate in expensive
and pretentious ceremonial
gestures, promises, and vows.

People will say about
anything in front of a crowd.

-Poem is owned by Jessica Gecsey-Ray and previously published. –

I don’t remember growing up thinking that I’d ever be married and have a family of my own. Mainly, because I grew up raising myself and concerning myself over the welfare and wellbeing of myself and younger stepsister.

So, in that way, I think to myself now, that my past self would of thought of that type of thinking as too fantastical and unrealistic. That getting married would just solve all of my problems like a snap of the fingers. I’ve been non-traditional my entire life. I suppose as I grew older, I felt it only made sense to adhere to the same line of thinking.

Besides, I wasn’t tied down by a piece of paper or kids. I spent almost half of my life not living in a fairy tale like existence where some guy was going to come and make everything alright. I knew damn very well where I stood among my peers as I had to wear hand me down kelly green converse hi-tops that were ill fitting when everyone else was sporting L.A. gear hi-tops.

Imagine going to P.E. and having to sit indian style in a circle knowing you have a defined hole that had developed in the crotch of your ugly yellow pants. I fought for everything in those times and I think that being my own person was just part of it all.

 

 

No Love

ATHEIST

No Love

In love with a land
and not it’s people.

Those christian
people and those
others that hate and
despise me just the same.

For the beliefs that I
would die for just like
past kindred spirits.

The tattoos that I choose
to mark my body
forever.

How when those ask
if they hurt,
I smile and reply,
“just like sin”.

I know pain worse than
that and encountered it
before I possessed memory.

How, it haunts me to this day.
I wake from those things that
take my sleep and any sense
of feeling safe.

I believed one time too and
that god turned a blind ear to
my screaming.

I screamed in his name.
Forsaken, mistaken.
Not his lamb.

Maybe, I’m the goat’s
child instead?

I’ve been given no clear indication.
It’s just that if I adamantly believe
there’s no idiot above, than how can
I think there’d be something that
existed below waiting.

I wish for the nights that I stop
waking from an uneasy and fitful
sleep to peer into the darkness thinking
that it’s him standing over me.

-Poem is owned by Jessica Gecsey-Ray. Permission needs to be sought to use the poem based on copyrights.-

Home

Perfect House

Home

Home for us was always
just a four walled type
of place.

Too expensive to stay
and too expensive to leave.

These are not contradictions
that come in the form of saving graces.

Complete with
a 32 page lease.
Did you happen
to read ’em all?

A lease is a legal
binding contract
between you the
leesee and the leesor.

All an apartment or
townhome felt to
me, was just a place
to store things.

When all you ever
wanted for was a piece
of the elusive American
dream.

You forgot that dream
came with a credit score
of at least 770.

I don’t know where
everyone else goes that
can’t hack corporate living.

My signature on a dotted line don’t signify anything to me.
‘Cuz I’m one of the outlaws too.
I need big skies and far stretched boundaries.

Home will always reside as a state of mind.

 

-Poem belongs to Jessica Gecsey-Ray 2019.-

Pit

Pit

Pit

That heavy weighted feeling
it’s sitting there again.

Almost like a child
refusing to be born
like the timing ain’t right.

Oh, but it’s been time.
The pain that accompanies
all this excess.

No different than any
other junkie.

How the irony
stares you in the face.

You seek to fulfill
the bottomless void
with what could
never truly fill you.

It is what you
have been always
been lacking?

Has it been the
love that was
never shown
you as a child?

Or the inability
to love now?

Throw all that
you could in that
pit.

One day you
may have found
enough room to find
your footing to
climb out of it.

-Poem owned by Jessica Gecsey-Ray 2019.

Trouble The Waters

Trouble the Waters

You know the problems
are going to multiply
when the blood
starts to shed.

Rationality evades my reach.
So, all that I have to rely
on is emotion and instinct.

I can talk about
the smell of it.

Dead blood smells
just like you’d imagine.
Dried up and yet
dead pungent.

Freshly shed blood
is iron like.
Bright red though,
reminds me of the
purity of life itself.

Much like new life
just entering the world.

In juxtaposition, could
very well be like the
red of the blood
pouring out a wound
that cannot be closed
so easily.

Mystified by seeing
the blood diluted
by the water.

I’m not fazed as what
I see belongs to me.

It’s only a visual truth
and reality of the inner
violence happening within.

-Poem is owned by Jessica Gecsey-Ray and is slated for publishing in the fall of 2019.-

Lana Vanus

Lana Vanus

When I close my eyes,
all I envision about
you and all your
self portraits
are just like
a nightmare.

Maybe, not
really mine at all.

I just imagine your
swollen head having
being so over
indulged by your
friends stroking
your narcissistic ego.

Your ego.
You know,
it’s like a demanding
cat owning an entire
household to itself
with all the attention as well.

But, my eyes they do open.
You stand there with your head
having turned itself inside out and
consumed by your very own neck.

Much like the ouroboros of antiquity.
But, I’m placing bets that this piece
of modern art isn’t about self-reliance, so much.

I recall that all of your self-portraits
feature you in some varying degree of age,
but always red colored hair.

Being both fake and vain in character
are flaws that I consider toxic to a relationship.

In Latin, the word, “vain”, is “vanus.”
Which translates to, “empty / without substance.”
In English, “vain”, means “devoid of real worth.”

Perhaps, it is your curse that you must be
so egocentric and self absorbed.

You know, one dimensional artists
really bore me anyhow.

I always thought they could pickup a hobby
to make them more interesting.

-Jessica Gecsey-Ray all rights owned by poet. Lana Vanus will be printed in a Chapbook slated for fall of 2019.-