Jennifer Strubel Poems

What have I done…
Why is this so?
Misery chases me, or is it me who embraces it?
I´m not a believer of karma, nor faith, or people
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I don’t like to go to bed, even though sleeping is my favorite pass time.
My partner feels like a corpse, lying next to me,
Cold and unwanted.
It smells bad too, this bed.
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In an instant of time, he comes to mind like this metamorphosis never was.
It was, in fact,
an uninterrupted taste of utopia – that fragment of my life span.
Long ago, still ripe in my mind and my heart –
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I fell in love with a country once.
An entire land mass embodied by a single face.
His face, it enchanted me.
Passions full, so much to go around.
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I dream of sunny meadows,
where by my side she´s near.
Her eyes so blue they pale the sun,
watch me skip through dry grasses.
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Tick tock the pendulum churns,
mocking the monotony -
which remains a secret to the one I yearn.
Or pretend to yearn for, as I play house.
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Foreign body heat,
constricting my chest.
Unknown hands upon my back.
a gentile pat – feels like a caress.
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Her doe-like eyes swell with bewilderment.
How one so dear can betray?
Heart in hand, what a generous giver –
But to give is not always better.
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On a cold stage, a pile of people before me,
I wonder what the hell I am doing there.
I know that one, the one with the wet curls,
sweating like always.
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