Tuesday, August 28, 2012


Long, endless corridors
echo the sterile sound
of tails, and trials, and tortures
where histories and sciences are bound

On metal shelves, cold and white
rooms and stories on end
Here Shakespeare gained immortality
and Huck freed his first black friend

Plato pleaded for Socrates
while Robin Hood protected the poor
but Scarlet lost Rhett Butler
when the South lost the Civil War

Milton lost his paradise
Hamlet lost Ophelia
Abyssinia was lost to diabetes
and science found gonorrhea

The British clung to Parliament
Americans worshiped their vote
dynasties fell and monarchs ruled
while Heidi raised her goat

Hitchcock thrived on terror
the Lindenburg babe didn’t survive
the Hindenburg exploded
but Patty Hearst was kept alive

Twain ventured the Mississippi
but Old Yeller had to die
Charlotte weaved her web
catching Nixon in a lie

The Kennedys lost their son
the sun is composed of gasses
Mozart composed concertos
while Hitler ruled the masses

Plants photosynthesize
neurons in my brain transmit
as my retinas reflect on books
in the library where I sit

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

Sunday, August 26, 2012


Photo by Jennifer Mandell © 2012  

I appreciate my mind and the things it can do,
the enduring sense of optimism I inherited from you,
the strings on my guitar and the notes they can play,
the little joys I find in each passing day.

I appreciate the little things that make me smile,
and anything that can engross me for a while,
the colorful brilliance of the late evening sky,
the softness of the grass in the field where I lie.

The sound of laughter and the shedding of tears,
friendships that have endured throughout the years,
the promises of spring and the smells of fall,
the way that I still remember it all.

I appreciate that life is here and then it's gone,
that the truths are things we have known all along,
that the real measure of a life well-lived
lies in a person's capacity to give.

It matters not the material things left behind,
but how often you cross another person's mind,
are others inspired by the life that you've led,
do you motivate them to get out of bed.

To dust themselves off and try yet again,
to be there for others that they call "friend",
to be more than they thought they could be,
you were one of those people for me.

Not here anymore, but not really gone,
because my memories of you still live on.

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

Sunday, August 12, 2012


In the darkest of hours
in a world far away
I contemplate life
and size up the day

I recall the times
and people now gone
of scents and of faces
I’ve known all along

Of places imagined
and a world unseen
of words not spoken
and a heart in between

Between what I say
and what I feel
the words are a lie
masking what’s real

Just letters on a page
that is all that I have
words are salvation
words are a salve

Words illuminate
and words do lie
words tell the truth
and allow us to hide

In the darkest of hours
lost to the night
words that have meaning
awaiting daylight

Drowning in noise
that crashes around
a soul that cries out
without a sound

These words that echo
aloud in my head
seeking salvation
as I lay in my bed

I think of a time
now far from view
I think of meaning
and I remember you

In the darkest of hours
a world far from sight
a memory of hope
in the darkest of night

Words are inadequate 
to sum up the day
of people and places
of a world far away

Lost now from view
but not from the heart
a world far away
but never apart

© 2012 by Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

Thursday, August 9, 2012


Life is constant motion
yet unwavering and still
life defies direction
yet bends to the will

Life is a shimmering prism
an expanse vast and deep
nothing left to lose
nothing here to keep

Life is a singular moment
just this one tiny breath
separating then from now
existence from death

Life is one long journey
moments fleeting and rare
life is an open question
left hanging in the air

Life is always measured
priceless but at a cost
never truly broken
never really lost

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell

Wednesday, August 8, 2012


The afternoon sun
casts silhouettes
reflecting upon the day
without sorrow or regrets

In the air hangs a whisper
of a far and distant time
of people and places
long left behind

Of roads untraveled
and paths unseen
of past and of future
of this time in between

In gentle repose
the sun vanishes from sight
gold bleeding into purple
then surrendering to night

But the whispers remain
these echos of time
of people and places
things left behind.

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.


Tuesday, August 7, 2012


Out of the closet
and onto the page
words with no meaning
a cold, icy rage

Darkness to the left
storms to my right
no time to quit
or put up a fight

These ghosts of mine
keep circling around
holding me back
tying me down

Searching for truth
in these things that I find
playing with words
and wasting my time

From silver to gold
the sun travels west
shouting its tales
to a world still at rest

The night takes hold
and blankets my room
the day fades away
I cling to the moon

These words in my head
will recede with the light
back to the closet
just ghosts in the night

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.


Life has a way of spinning around,
of lifting off and crashing down. 
Life can disappoint and life can thrill,
moving fast and then standing still. 

Life is silent and life is loud,
you stand alone amid the crowd. 
Feet planted firm as you tremble and shake,
eyes closed, but fully awake.

Surrounded by darkness,
blinding and bright,
as shadows of grey
obscure the night.

Descending in mist,
engulfing the soul,
nothing remains unsaid,
no secrets to be told.

Life is random moments,
fleeting, exposed, and raw,
passing no final judgments,
no larger meaning to it all.

Life crashes over you,
lie still, close your eyes.
In stillness there is meaning,
at dawn the sun will rise.

With life there is silence,
still waters raging deep,
a collage of random memories,
pictures that we keep.

In truth there are no words
to adequately describe
the sensation of your soul,
when it is awake and alive.

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.