Monthly Archives: May 2011


I will not succumb to Restriction
I will break the bonds of Restraint
I will follow no Rule but my own

I will Love without limits
I will Give my self completely
I will Smile and be smiled upon

I will Search the depths within
I will Embrace every moment given
I will Cherish each one as if it were the last

Because I have the Ability within me
Because it is Imperative that I do so
Because an Angel touched me gently

Showing me the Error of my ways
Illuminating the Path and where it leads
Bringing me to Truth and releasing demons

On this Woden’s day…

I came to See
I came to Know
I came to Believe

©2011 Jill Terry


“When your what the fuck moments turn to hours then morph into days, it just might be time to make a change.”
~Jill Terry

©2011 Jill Terry


So young
Full of life

Seven days later
Just gone

Life sustaining machines
Brain swelling injury
Prolonging the inevitable
What was the point

He gave his word
To never be the cause
Left up to her
How long she would hold on

But he couldn’t stand
To see her lay there
Convincing himself
She simply was suffering

The possibility most probable
Of never regaining independence

And so he broke his promise
Taking the decision
As his own

Having no clue
As she lay in coma
She could hear every
Single word

They pulled the plug
Then sat in mournful silence
Watching her pulse slowly weaken

As the bloodcurdling scream
Crescendoed inside her
Fading to an echo
Forever unknown

©2011 Jill Terry


“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
~ Ernest Hemingway

She no longer wonders why she does it
Draining her self so completely
Succumbing willingly to the void of emptiness
Escaping the torturous black abyss

Crimson tide spilling forth
Proof of life and a wounded soul
Transfixed by the illusion
Magically transformed into words

The need of pure numbness
The escape of maddening pain
The never ending flow of memory
The need to feel whole again

A personality disorder quite perhaps
Not to worry we have a pill for that
A balancing of cerebral chemicals
To hush the nonsensical bothersome voices

Fuck your pills and diagnosis
Give me my fountain pen and textured paper
Leave me alone to suffer in solitude
Casting out my demons to spew to the universe

©2011 Jill Terry


Come to the edge of my bed he said and slide in beside me
She would have she thought wanting for nothing more
As she stood in dark shadows her gaze cast lovingly forth

But she’d seen the ghosts dancing in the trees
Heard their whispers on the breath of a breeze
As she dangled precariously on a dream and a prayer

Realizing his invitation was not open-ended
Regardless how honorable and heartfelt his intention
For another there dwelled and slumbered already

Heart coming unhinged with soul consuming trepidation
Fractured emotions spinning out of control
As she made her way once more to his side

Longingly she gazed into the face of true love
Christening his cheek with a single tear shed
As she bent to bid him a mournful adieu

Upon his lips she left a kiss that would carry them into forever
Then ushered forth on wings of pain she fled into the night

Banishing herself within the cloak of darkness
Returning to her world of solitary confinement
Where even the trees would forever weep in her presence

©2011 Jill Terry


“There is much pain that is quite noiseless; and vibrations that make human agonies are often a mere whisper in the roar of hurrying existence. There are glances of hatred that stab and raise no cry of murder; robberies that leave man or woman for ever beggared of peace and joy, yet kept secret by the sufferer; committed to no sound except that of low moans in the night, seen in no writing except that made on the face by the slow months of suppressed anguish and early morning tears. Many an inherited sorrow that has marred a life has been breathed into no human ear.”

~ George Eliot


It took weeks to pen this little piece. I began to wonder if it would ever reach fruition; how I could summate in a short space, with mere words, the profundity of my experience, so that others might catch a glimpse, or possibly wholly embrace, the vision I’ve attempted to project.

I thought about submitting it to university literary departments, for review and possible publication; knowing full well that meant it couldn’t be previously published elsewhere. The possibility of recognition and validation as a true “American Poet,” on the merit of this piece alone, was such that I was willing to forego my personal publication and set out on a quest that may or may not reach such lofty heights.

This morning the universe tapped me on the shoulder, reminding me that the only validation necessary is that which I’ve already received; that which affords me the courage, strength, and confidence, to send my thoughts, my voice, my heart and soul, winging into the world on a breeze of hope; that others may feel, understand and possibly be touched, should their path happen to cross current.

That validation of truth and certainty; of who and why we are, is in each and every one of us, but isn’t something that’s found in each other; for it can only be found and extracted from within…


There was no white light
No choir of welcoming angels
No reel of a life spent
Passing before the mind’s eye

There was only darkness
A calm hum of silence
The distinct separation
Of spirit from flesh

As a self-adhering sticker
Being peeled effortlessly
From a smooth pane of glass
To release the true self

The easing of pain
The diffusion of suffering
The release of regret
The depletion of worry

A peace filled knowing
From poets souls often written
That it does not end here
This is merely the crossroads

To the actual beginning
The realm of reality
From Mother Earth’s womb
Death our birth of living



©2011 Jill Terry


She has the ability
Preprogrammed equipment
The power within
The means to secede

To make things better
Any way she wants them
To enlighten her vision
By closing her eyes

Confession some say
Is good for the soul
Suppression she gives witness
To keep insanity at bay

©2011 Jill Terry


It’s the games created
The ones she plays
Her self the sole competitor

Of sheer necessity
For the sake of her sanity
A form of self preservation

Some would think crazy
Others might pity
A few might find pure genius

Tweaking thought process
To fool the body
Into believing an absolute falsity

Electroshock therapy
Through means of visual stimulation
Reminders of truth when all else fails

Wounds inflicted for vanquishment sake
Diminisher of torturous emotion
So conquers the physical pain

Regardless of her reasons
Why games balance reality
It matters not what others think

Just some things she does
Reminders of lost reasons
To sustain her very existence

Not because she wants to
But simply because she has to
It is what it is

It’s the method to her madness

©2011 Jill Terry

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