Black & Blue

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Black & Blue

The game we play

Goes back and forth

Of two people who

Make verbal stabs like daggers

Intent is only

To pierce the other

To make them bleed

To hurt, nothing else

Who have we become

We were never this way before

Once you loved me

And it was you that I adored

But now the days are different

We are black and blue today

Black when we hurt the other

Blue when we cry and bruise

This game is cruel and ugly

Its intent is to stab, burn and use

-J. Lefever

(12/11/13)

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©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication

Karma Police

Karma Police

*** Tryst Free Write ***

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Sitting, waiting and watching … patiently … is Karma.

People may not ever realize that Karma is watching, or that it is even real … but it is.

Karma has much more patience than we can even imagine. That is why when we are stumbling around, down here on earth, waiting for someone’s Karma to show up, or even our own, and we can’t understand why it is taking so long.

Well, Karma, I have learned, waits for the perfect moment. A moment that we can’t see coming, a moment that we are totally unaware of, a moment that we can’t even anticipate. There are all reasons for Karma, and why it exists, and how it works … Karma is the link to our inner most judge and jury, that of which knows us better than we know ourselves. Karma always knows when we have lied, cheated, stolen, hurt out of vengeance, acted out of pride, hidden out of gluttony and lied out of lust … yes, there are many things that we do as people, and there are many things we think we keep to ourselves, things that we think no one knows … but even if that is so, even if we were extremely careful, and did not get caught, even if we were able to keep something we have done a complete secret from anyone and everyone, except ourselves, even if this is so, we can never keep secrets from Karma (And of our God, as we understand him) … I believe that those 2 things, those 2 infinite beings, those 2 incredibly powerful entities always know what is in our hearts, minds and souls. Karma and our power of a higher being always know if we have good intent, if we are really trying, when we are really hurting, when and if we are right or wrong, if we are treating others well & kind, if we are treating ourselves well & kind, if our intent is good and for the better, if we have really changed our ways for the better, if we are real or not, if our actions match up to our lives and if our lives match up to our thoughts and if our thoughts match up to our inner most wants, needs and desires … they know, us better than we can even imagine, they know what we are doing, what we deserve and where we are going …

I get lost thinking of these things … a lot lately.

I think of these things as I go through this murder trial … praying for justice for the life of my brother, and yet, all the while knowing that none of it really matters. I won’t ever see my brother again. So, none of it really matters.

But Karma, Karma watches … waits … and as much as I want Karma to come down and get to work on the person who killed Dave, I know that I have a long time to wait for Karma to show up on this matter. I know that Karma will. I believe that you can’t possibly take a life, a life that wasn’t even threatening another, take it and just walk away, unaffected by it, with no life consequences upon your own … this cannot be the way it works in the world. Not under this sky, not under the power of higher being who watches us and protects us … this cannot be. So, I believe that Karma will show up, quite some time from now, in its usual fashion, at a time and place beyond my understanding, to pay its dues …

Impatient me waits … for patient Karma Police … to show up and teach someone a lesson … even though I know that, no matter what, Karma will never hurt this person as much as this person has hurt me and my family … Karma doesn’t work that way …

Karma teaches us in other ways …

Has Karma ever taught you?

Has Karma ever given you pain to feel?

Have you learned to change your ways because of the things that Karma has shown you?

~J. Lefever

(10/09/13)

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©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication

Dark Intimidation

Hoping for a little feedback on this piece… I am submitting it for a poetry publication and I had to choose one piece from my collection of poetry and needless to say, I had a hard time. I went with this one for some reasons of my own, but to those who have read my words, I am curious to know… your opinion on this particular piece… Is it too short, too simple, too depressing,  too dark, too vague.. or it is deep, strong, sensitive, sad.. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. ~ Jen

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Dark Intimidation

 

Sensitive, fear
Suffocating me
Covers every inch
Harboring me
Scream into its silence, but
No one hears a word
Darkness so thick
It muffles my tiny sound
Making my way
As if I’m in a maze
The puzzle is its chaos
Playing tricks on my mind
Luring me further & further
Down deep, to it’s very core
Obsessed by the challenge…

I find myself again
Without steel, iron or blade, only
Armed with my soul
Intimidated shamefully
Yet I push on through
To find a glimmer of light

In the thickness of you

 

~ J. Lefever ~

March 2012

 

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©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication

Mind in the Morning

 

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Mind in the Morning

 

Awake

But barely

Eyes not quite in focus

I

Try to find a reason

To make something of my day

But my mind in the morning

Is a blank canvas

Staring back at me

Asking why I ignore it

And why don’t I give it color

 

Sometimes…

I prefer the blank canvas

Because other times

My mind in the morning

Is dripping with sadness

Of the pain

I visit in my dreams

O the things I’ve lost

The love that is confused

Personal dreams that sit idle

A life that is always in question

 

My mind in the morning

Can see what it wants

It knows what happiness looks like

And that happiness

Is far from here

Which is why

In the morning

Even when I am awake

I am not really awake at all

Just moving through the motions

Till the day I can go…

 

J Lefever

(05/18/13)

 

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 ©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication
 

 

The Victim & The Villain

I am going through my poetry and putting together my third manuscript. So, I am compiling all my pieces, reading through them, picking and choosing, and I came across this one. This is a piece that remains one of my favorites… most dear to the painful part of my soul… yesterdays news, but still ever so present in the choices I make… I wanted to share it again… just for fun…
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This is… my most beloved piece. This piece is meant to be read slowly, to get the emotion in each word I chose to tell this story. This is a short story, about me. It is written poetically. I am happy to share it, and hope it is enjoyed and understood by those who read it. This is also the title of a book that I am currently writing… one of my writing projects that is very dear to my heart. This is the story of the Victim and the Villain. ~ J
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The Victim & The Villain
I can tell you of days
When I was completely frozen
I can tell you of weeks that went by
And I didn’t even notice
I can tell you of mornings
I would wake up mad
Mad ’cause I was still breathing, still alive
…isn’t that sad?
I can tell you of a lady
Who was once alive in me
She was vibrant, and she smiled
She was what other’s wanted to be
But somehow, in her life, she became
Tragically sad
Things began to happen
Now, She’s a Victim to all things bad
A run of bad luck, for a decade, or so
But she was also the Villain of her story, you know
As much as she tried
To push the darkness away
The Villain within
Would not let her stray
The Villain was strong but
It needed it’s Victim down
And with all of the chaos
The Victim was stuck in her town
Further and further
Did her pure image go
But deep down inside
Her spirit would know
In a time and a place
She could rise up again
And put to rest
Her corruption, her sin
I can tell you of days
When I thought this impossible
I can tell you today
I have become remarkable
Only because
I can see inside
That I was the Victim.. and the Villain
In my very own mind
Playing the taunter
And being taunted by…
The miraculous strength of
Me, Myself, and I…
I can’t tell you who wins
The story of me
The Victim, the Villain, or the saviour to be…
But I am each one
Each integral part
That make up the Victim… and the Villain
Inside of my heart.
~~ J. Lefever ~~
(04/15/012)
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 ©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication
 

Daily Reflection on Tryst (05/13/13)

Daily Reflection (05/13/13)

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Not Getting A Goodbye

As I move through the stages of grief, I go through many emotional ups & downs. I have been through things in my life that were very hard, some tragic, some self-inflicted, others were influenced by others, things that left deep scars, lies and betrayal, death, but no one as close as my own brother. I have never felt these kinds of emotions, or this level of pain, ever.

In my mind, I go over & over the events of the day my brother was killed. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? What was he doing? Where was he going? And then things about the actual event that took his life… what happened? How can this have even been a real event… it this really real? It is a mental circus… a mental torture in which I can’t even begin to put into words.

Me being such an analytical person, always wanting and needing to know the answers to everything in this world, the ‘not-knowing’ drives me crazy. It drives me crazy and it makes me very angry and it makes me cry and it makes me scream for my brother… All of this, emotion, pours out of me and I’m not the only one. My mother, who has a death certificate for her son. My father, who had to bury his baby boy. We are all changed. We are all broken. We are all damaged. We all have a hole in our hearts. Our lives will never be complete.

Even when we experience moments of joy and happiness… there will always be something, our someone, that is missing…

In my thinking this weekend, I came across the thought that… one of the hardest parts about this is, not getting to say goodbye. Losing my brother the way that I did, was, unceremonial. One minute of the day, and he was just… gone. There was nothing I could do, no where I could go, completely helpless…

 

I hate that I didn’t get to say goodbye…

I didn’t get to tell him I love him…

I didn’t get to tell him any of the million things I have yet to say…

I wasn’t finished…

I wasn’t done making memories with my brother…

 

My life with him was just over, in one second, and I didn’t even get to say goodbye…

 

If you have a sibling, I cannot stress the importance of telling them you love them, every single time you speak. No matter what… tell them you love them…

 

Have a great day Tryst.

 

XOXO ~ Jen’

 

Tryst Thought : Everywhere I go, I carry him with me. But it’s not the same. It is not ever going to be the same…

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©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication
 

 

 

I Will Survive ~ Tryst Update

I Will Survive ~ Tryst Update

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Well, well…

This was a tough weekend…

 

I was trying to hold myself back as much as possible from popping off at the mouth, and I don’t think I did a very good job. I got off on some social media, telling the town off and declaring how much I hate it here. Did I feel better afterwards…? Maybe a little… but it’s always like this for me, as soon as the angry words start flowing, they don’t want to stop!! And it turns into, ‘Oh, I need to add this…’ & ‘I should have said that!’ …

 

But, in the end, I found myself on a Sunday night, wondering if the few people who originally pissed me off even read my FB blast in which I told everyone how fake and two-faced they are and how they need to stay out of my business… going on to explain how I’m leaving this city cause I can’t stand all the shit heads that don’t mind their own…

 

You know, I hear other people go on rants, on ALL of the social media outlets and blogs and such… so why do I feel like I even need to explain mine? The truth is that someone came to me and said that my brothers killing was set up and done on purpose… among some other things, and this just completely threw me over the edge!! I mean, this person has NO clue what was going on in my brother’s, mine, in our family’s life, so to make a statement like this, it is just pure cruelty and all fiction. It’s even more fucked up because that was my brother, so the emotional shit storm that it brought to my heart and mind was completely uncalled for!

 

My point on the things I posted was to make clear that I don’t point fingers and judge. I also don’t stick my nose in other people’s business… especially when it involves the sensitive emotion of the death of a loved one. That is so disrespectful. Don’t people have any manners? Couth? That is just…. completely fucked up!!

 

In the end, I will survive… and I will be on a beach someday, not looking back at the place I came from, as there is nothing to look back and see…

 

~ Jen

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 ©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication