The mind, a dormant stone

It's birthday season again!  Yay...  (sarcasm) Gosh, it has been a while since Covid19 made its debut... I think I was thinking it would be gone by now. Yes, the foolish fantasy that we could continue with our lives after 2 weeks of lockdown, but here is August. It's nearly my birthday and I have been wrapping my head around just what I can do to celebrate. Sure, you can say, go low key. Or, "why not be low key, Jessica. Why's it gotta be a big party?". Well, to counter that I'd say, "F&*k off, it's my birthday bish!" But really , I would probably say: 1. I just came out of 3 years of being "Mama", as in new momma, as in "where the hell did Jessica go", as in "when the hell is Jessica coming back?" as in "what do the kids need now?" I haven't been out in a long time. Definitely not the way I used to go out.  2. It's a milestone birthday! Let me rock my milestone and set it off! That's what I...

Thinking about being 30...clubbing, dancing, moving around town. Sharing drinks and just staying up with the night. ahhh just been a long time since this feeling dominated me. miss it. 

missing your pressence around my body; the dark and the everlasting light. 11pm walks through the city chasing the curves of sunset clouds and moonbeam peaking,  like your ruffled blouse. the ends of your alleys make me sore, feet caressing every needle, every marble stone, and all those faces meshing eyes, pattern my trotting absurdities. a smoke in the cleansing rain until i am washed into rescue, uncertain how the words will penetrate; travel the sound of swishing lips and damp tongues pulling and curling on time. always on time.  a tempo worth beating into your stalks; your finessed legs pressing, shoving me along deeper, to feel all of you, undressed in the mirror chanting, posing, holding in rapture.  bring me up once again, so i may never forget the taunting hum snapping back like rubber on your pleasant derriere.  jessica m wilson cardenas

E njoying A nother S tay at home, T rying to have an E aster holiday that feels R ather comfortable, traditional, S o like "home". I tell you, it's U nlike any other, I've ever felt. N othing like the uncomfortable silence of families, or D illy-dallying to the next relative's house, A nd not having to worry about new names or small talk. Y ep, that's different. Isn't it? happy easter! Jessica Wilson Happy Poetry Month #acrosticpoem #easterpoem covid19 can't kill poetry #napowrimo day 11

stretch by me little one suck in the urge to cry; swallow it with the confidence that you will not choke.  repeat repeat repeat. ______________________________________________________________________ i remember a time not long past a group of us on Figueroa just being wild careless free people it was liberating to feel the cloak of youth the retro spin of nothing can touch me I'll be alright.  remember? remember how it hugged you? clench your eyes. that beast is locked up inside you somewhere. don't you let go you'll need her from time to time when you wanna fight back & when you wanna survive. Jessica M. Wilson April 6, 2020 a poem a day #6 Day 6 #covid19cantkillpoetry #lifetimetalk #lapoet #napowrimo #reflection #lapoem #lapoetry #highlandpark #friendships #youthful #recollection #growthpoem #writepoetry #poetrychallenge #nationalpoetrymonth #aprilispoetrymonth

When I saw you today, I felt petrified. The first time seeing you again, like I saw you when I entered the earth. A tunnel of promises, family that tries to save you repeatedly; the way love is shown. This is what it felt like to stand 6 feet away from you after not seeing you for two months. Jessica M. Wilson April 4, 2020 Day 4 - #napowrimo #nationalpoetrymonth #familypoem #thesetimes covid19 can't kill poetry!

For the new babies: I am prayin' that the sky we know to be blue will stay that way for you. & I want you to know about the grass and all its friends, the weeds, the in-between, even the case for roaches; (that's right--and because it's righteous and rosy) to respect all things that breathe. Dearest little ones, keep yourself tucked tightly inside and blossom safely when it's time. You're the tulips perched steadily atop its stem. You will know how to bend with the current so to never break. You will adjust with the pressure so to conserve your strength and whip back with might and with truth beaming from your eyelids. You will be the ones to lead us away from hate for all that we are, and give us light for a new age. Jessica M. Wilson April 2, 2020 napowrimo National Poetry Month Covid-19 can't kill poetry