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    Ongoing Thoughts
    Ongoing Thoughts
    Ongoing Thoughts
    Ebook112 pages1 hour

    Ongoing Thoughts

    By Jen Selinsky

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    About this ebook

    "Ongoing Thoughts" consists of long poems which were written during the last months of Jen's college career. Some of the poems are longer, many of which are dedications.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJen Selinsky
    Release dateSep 29, 2017
    ISBN9781370156160
    Ongoing Thoughts
    Author

    Jen Selinsky

    Jen Selinsky was born in Pittsburgh, PA. In 2003, she earned her bachelor's degree in English from Clarion University of Pennsylvania. In 2004, she earned her master's degree in library science from the same school. Jen has worked as a professional librarian for over twelve years. She has published more than 170 books, most of which contain poetry. Her work can be found on the following sites: Lulu, Amazon, iTunes, Kobo, Barnes & Noble/Nook, Smashwords, and Pen It! Publications. She has also been featured in publications such as: The Courier Journal, Explorer Magazine, Liphar Magazine, and Indiana Libraries. Jen lives in Sellersburg, IN with her husband.

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      Book preview

      Ongoing Thoughts - Jen Selinsky

      Ongoing Thoughts

      Jen Selinsky

      Copyright © 2007 by Jen Selinsky

      All rights reserved by the author. No part of this publication can be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisher and/or author.

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Cover Art Copyright © 2005 by Jen Selinsky

      ISBN: 9781370156160

      *Not every poem included in this book is dated in chronological order.  This is not an oversight on my part. Rather, I have made changes and substitutions over the years.

      -J.L.S.

      It seems that everything is simpler,

      Yet more confused because of the

      Direction of my life.

      This is not a good time for fear to

      Reside in my mind; this is a good time

      To explore all my essential components,

      Before they all try to disappear!

      I shall persevere because all

      Of this is part of God’s plan,

      And my mind will be at ease,

      As the time grows even closer.

      I desperately want out, but I should

      Not rush the last moment of leisure that

      Runs through my life; I don’t know what the

      Future will be like!

      I may not even have an opportunity

      To breathe my wonderful breath that

      I hold so dear.

      Ahead of myself, I’d like to think so,

      But when has this automatically become

      A good thing?

      It will be a great adjustment, but heaven knows

      That I will find a way to get along.

      Nothing dire, nothing near anywhere extreme,

      Until it happens.

      I need something to reassure me that

      Things are going to be fine—that things

      Will work out because of my hard work

      And perseverance.

      And those who have supported me

      Will not be disappointed at

      What my life has become.

      They will look at me and see the success

      That I have since achieved.

      8/28/04

      I would like to believe that I will never die,

      But death is the inevitable evil.

      And I will leave nothing behind—nothing by which

      To be remembered the mark that I thought

      Was indelible was nothing more than

      A streak of blue, washable paint!

      The chunk that my fangs have torn out of the earth

      Has now grown back, stronger than ever.

      I wonder what Shelley or Byron would think

      About having their works, the very blood and sweat

      Of their brow, torn apart like the fresh meat of human flesh.

      All these thousands of rambling brats,

      Which I have been producing for the last ten years,

      Must never again see the light of day, they must

      Be committed to flame!

      Where the hell is Hume when I need him?

      Thus this tedious labor has come to an end,

      But I am nothing without these defective beings.

      The very essence of my life has been torn apart,

      And so has that of my musical muse.

      Alliteration, onomatopoeia, the repetition

      Of EVERYTHING.

      Thousands of these brats have too many genes

      In common, and none of them will ever be able

      To establish a name for themselves or their

      Mother/creator.

      Anne Bradstreet said it well herself.

      Oh, if sweet cynicism were alcohol

      And pessimism were an opiate,

      Then I would be in some kind of drug-

      Induced state that shall last, until the works

      Of this old body have come to an end.

      2/11/03

      It’s good to know that I didn’t offend you.

      I suppose that I just have to much yellow

      Bile in my system, and I suppose that youth

      Does have its faults, but it is strong for the most

      Part as it refuses to die, I could feel myself weakening

      Over the last few years.

      Some ideals have come and gone, but I will not

      Let go of the goddess of freedom that’s inside me.

      I will not allow myself to go by the wayside,

      Like Wordsworth and Coleridge did!

      Let me be like Blake, Keats, Shelley, and Byron,

      Who lived short, but meaningful lives

      (Well, Blake lived a lot longer, but he set up

      The foundation).

      In Shakespeare’s day, I would be in my forth

      Or fifth stage of life.

      The infant, the child, the lover, and the soldier

      Are all gone.

      All the world may very well be a stage, but everyone

      Has to make an exit sometime.

      This great transition is leading me to such frustration;

      I want my life to be like Paul’s red roses

      That stuck out due to the background of white snow.

      Part of me is actually starting to think that I want to

      Grow old—that it would be something pleasant,

      And that part has already given up!

      Think of all the brilliant minds whose carriers’

      Times were cut short.

      I don’t want to be cut off any time soon,

      Just as long as I can keep that youthful mind-frame,

      Spark, and aesthetic glow, I could tell the world

      When I have grown to live twenty more years

      That I am truly twenty years younger!

      If only our bodies would never age

      Past twenty-five and live a full life.

      Degradation is something so vile and frightening

      That I don’t feel I want to face it.

      My second childhood is fast approaching,

      But no swift eye needs to detect it.

      It is floating up, while the sands of time

      Are sliding down the hourglass, that is no longer

      My figure.

      I’m sorry to have to portray my morbid views,

      But I have been advised by my family never to get old,

      And I will do what I can to fight that damnable

      Stage of my life.

      Pushing back years can boost my self-confidence.

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