Tag: social commentary

Grudges

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Ithalu Dominguez from Pexels

When I die, I will become the queen of the clouds.

Not that I would ever go to heaven – straight to hell, without any doubts.

I just think that my freshly vanished body would haunt people’s dreams,

It would reappear in their nightmares so often they would run out of screams.

They would take me out and right up to the judge –

But no matter what they said, I would act like I was holding a grudge.

The moment they look away, I’ll be gone and off to take the throne.

I think ruling the up above is also reserved for royals who once have been overthrown.

-JW

Getaway Car

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Jonathan Aman from Pexels

No one recognizes the crown prince of petty crimes

Unless his bodyguards break your door down with battle cries.

No one challenges the rebels or interrupted warlocks

Until peace is disrupted loudly, with bullets and well-aimed pity mocks.

No one stands up to the status quo as an expression of free will –

Only needy will find the guts, only brave will have some spare blood to spill.

No one screams in the face of humiliation with vivid pride,

And even if they do, they get called morons or parasites.

No one cares and nobody knows how clueless we actually are.

I hope the road sets on fire and engine bursts while I’m driving my getaway car.

-JW

Bitter

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels

Here’s a bitter pill to swallow: they don’t need me if I don’t show them sympathy first.

They’re doing great. Everything’s lovely. The moment it’s not, they drink up my empathies with a godless thirst.

Too bad I’ve been too blinded by our history, reflecting into the unknown. I missed the warning signs.

I should’ve never taken up another beggar after one already tore my core into a painting of alarming sights.

But I’m not motivated by the anger. I’m writing this because no one’s here on these dawning nights.

It all passes once the sun starts creeping up the horizon, yet the bitterness is not erased by these morning lights.

I’m mourning our fights.

The thought of never seeing them again fills me with ease so maybe I should keep my heart locked away?

In the cupboard, next to a broken glass and shivering illusions of safety, shining brighter than the signs of Broadway…

Maybe I should built a festival out of this little hideaway,

Just for myself.

But I’d rather do it like Hemingway.

Here’s a bitter pill to swallow: they would need me more if they could add me on their resume.

-JW

Bittersweet Melody

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Axel Vandenhirtz from Pexels

How do you live being soft-spoken? No shrieking, no debilitating insomnia or an axe in your chest?

How do you go on another day not feeling broken? Do you wake up after good 8 hours more stitched together than the rest?

It’s not a walk in the park to explain how my anxieties and other ticks make a day worse by the second.

Not to brag, but I want to leave my mark: crawling to every finish line with anxiety on my neck,

Yet coming in second.

The moment someone realizes I’m not kidding when I say I’m depressed is a bittersweet melody to my ears –

What a time to be alive, we’ve progressed. What a time to be alive… Now they know my worst fears.

Hope they ignore the tears. And open tears.

-JW

Catwalk

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Mike Chai

Lying on the floor between pages filled with pen scratches,

Trying to find one as blank as my stare, one that matches

My vision of a perfect day – not touched by an unwelcomed gaze.

But I know you are watching. If the story of my life was a contest

You would get the first place.

Walking through allies during tasteless springs, buried in pollen.

The weather is crisp, yet my feet feel heavy and lungs are swollen

To the size of an iron maiden. It is pressing down on my chest.

A heavy sensation hits – deleting myself from the narrative is

The only way to get rest.

Standing still in the middle of an always running city mob,

Checking my sanity, looking for signs that others also get robbed

Of time and dignity – while you peek away with your grueling precision.

I even wonder whether these stares only live inside of my head…

What a joyless derision.

Running up the stairwell, haunted by the words from the worst of humanity.

Gravity is drying my tears but it does not silence my profanities

As I curse every single stranger that said – my story is not a safe place to exist.

They can look all they want, browse and lurk as they please, but I promise –

At the end of the day, you will get what you do not desist.

-JW

The Young and Defamed

jackiewrightauthorLeave a comment
Photo by Victor Miyata

Defamation is the strong suit of many, sadly – so is temptation.

I don’t share paths with these well-intentioned people, I’m creating my own narration.

The youth is neither rotten nor broken – it’s just caught up in the middle of a mess,

Facing trauma since the day we were walking. We’re used to loving distress.

Tiny spaces in shady places are often the only locations where we feel free to chafe –

But lads in their forties are trying to convince us that they crave the young blood and they love the chase.

I’m begging them to stop walking over the half-done graves before the benediction

But no one seems to drop the addiction to filth, and they won’t change the conviction.

It’s quite poignant how my presence causes people to prejudge my affairs

As it was decided centuries ago that I must only speak when nobody cares.

A few steps away they will sell my ideas for less than is legal – or even hand them out for free.

And who will be the first taker? A priest or a scumbag, or just another devotee?

The night is careless to those who reluctantly swim in its empty commitments

Because the ones who only live for the dark will hardly make a fair acquitment.

Dedication is the strong suit of a few, luckily – so is persistence.

I do split roads with many who are lost. Only those who run blindly at times will manage to make a difference.

-JW