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Best Poems Written by Jessica Goldstone

Below are the all-time best Jessica Goldstone poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Jessica Goldstone Poem

Her Name Is Poverty

She tells me, 
Of the belt of hunger that clings to her waist, 
Of how it's only ever loosened by rampaging and rummaging through waste.

She tells me,
How her journey through payments, predicaments and pavements make her tire,
How her cracked feet and wracked heart are passed by Tyre after Tyre.

She tells me, 
About the intricate diagnoses and prognoses that riddle her every fiber, vessel and vein, 
About the cardboard pleas and pleads that have all been in vain.

She tells me,
That this is the existence her weeping womb has bred,
That her hope for her successors is that they may succeed her in the fight for bread.

She tells me,
Her name is poverty.
Do you remember her?

Details | Jessica Goldstone Poem

Carry Me With You

Why do you seem to slip into everything but me?
What capacity does every other form possess?
How do I mimic its shape?
How do I extend its depth?

I disperse myself into everything, 
In a hope that in fragments I may find my way to You.
Into Your nostrils,
Under Your finger nails,
Between Your teeth,

Carry me with You.
Carry me with You.

I want to be the smells which cling to Your hair, 
So that I may brush ever so softly against Your cheeks.

I want to be the dirt which fills the ruts of Your nails,
So that I may be a part of everything You hold dear.

I want to be the food which adorns Your teeth,
So that I may hang on every word You say.

Carry me with You.
Carry me with You.
For, You have long since taken me.

Details | Jessica Goldstone Poem

I Wonder, I Ponder

How do I condition my cells
To take a form that might demand your interest,
That might command your attention?
I wonder.
I ponder.

How do I form my fiber
To take the flight of air,
The fluidity of water,
To move beyond the limits of land and language?
I wonder.
I ponder.

How do I manipulate my marrow
To take the firmness of earth,
The fierceness of fire,
To move beyond the suppression of space and silence?
I wonder.
I ponder.

How do I transform my tissue
To make a form to dangle between dreams,
To string together seams.
To move continuously through continents and communication?
I wonder.
I ponder.
***

How do I contain myself,
When I’ve already dispersed it so freely?

I am stretched thin,
I lack the elasticity to return my former state.

I am weightless,
because I’ve placed myself in You

Details | Jessica Goldstone Poem

Something Like Me and You

I want us to swim,
In our new bodies,
Which buttress our boney disproportion.

I want the fish to be enticed,
By our old skins
Which serve as useless armour to this world.

I want the cold to be unrelenting,
To our restless hearts,
Which beat  inaptness into our beings.

I want the water to cleansing
Towards our tomblike wombs
Which welcome love but  reject life.

 I want the tides to be shifting,
Until our spineless existence
Take the form of something solid,
Something soft.
Of something like me and You.

Details | Jessica Goldstone Poem

An Ode To Age

You longer blaze in the summer heat, 
You breeze in the autumn wind.

Does my change concern You as much?
***
By what means, 
do we clinch the elasticity of Your skin?

By what measures,
 do we clench the extensiveness of Your muscles?

To keep You warm,
To keep You here, 
To keep You.

Details | Jessica Goldstone Poem

As You Slip Into Sleep

I want to sink into 
You.
softly as I sink
into sleep, 

I want to slip 
through the spaces of Your ribs.
Inhale me so that I may visit Your most intricate parts

I want to feel the damp walls of Your lungs 
contracting tight with reality.
I've entered these places a thousand times in my dreams,

As my dreams so boldly seeps 
through the spaces between Your ribs.

I want to slip into,
You.
sweetly as You slip,
into sleep.

Details | Jessica Goldstone Poem

The Beggar

He leaves his soul on the pavement, 
To be greeted only by the soles of shoes passing by,
Never stopping.

They are equally decrepit,
Equally as likely to be discarded when their purpose is no longer obvious.

He works his fingers to the bone,
To feed only on bones tossed away by licked fingers,
Never sharing.

They are equally decayed,
Equally as likely to be discarded when their purpose is no longer obvious.
***
"Help Me",
He says, in a voice hoarse with thirst,
with a tongue thick with pleads and regret.

"Sorry,"
I say, in a voice damp with machine coffee,
through teeth caked with take away food and regret.

I reach to the depths of my heart,
In search of something that might fill the depths of his bowels,
For something of sense beyond cents and rands.

I reach to the seams of my pockets,
In search of something that might alter the seams of his existence,
For something of sense beyond cents and rands.

I reach to the limits of me,
In search of something that might lift the limits of him,
For something of sense beyond cents and rands.

I cannot.
I cannot.
For this,
I am truly sorry

Details | Jessica Goldstone Poem

How Do I

I ponder.
I wonder.

How do I live for money, 
while millions are dying for it?

How do I appreciate life, 
while it's devoured every night for dinner?

How do I keep driving, 
while empty bellies are filled with pollution at every robot?

How do I make way for the mainstream, 
while society is already drowning in it?

How do I feel comfortable in my own skin, 
when so many have been persecuted for the colour of theirs?

How do I distract myself in churches and conference rooms, 
while the earth is crumbling under these structures?

How do I live, 
when "that's life"?

I ponder.
I wonder.

Details | Jessica Goldstone Poem

The Heart of Your Sea

You pull me 
Through precipitation and perspiration 
I come to You

The swamps of my Saliva,
the marshes of my muscles,

You pull me
Through erosion and evaporation
I come to You

The stream of my spinal cord,
the meanders of my membranes,

You pull me, 
Through clamminess and condensation
I come to You

The pools of my plasma,
the basin of my bladder,

I come to You,
to the heart of Your sea.

Details | Jessica Goldstone Poem

Every Fragment of Me Is Performing

Every fragment of me is performing
To mimic You,
To follow You,
I’ve been mumbling through masks,
But none of their expressions match Yours.
I’ve been stumbling on stilts,
But they don’t lengthen my pace enough to catch Yours.

Every fragment of me is performing
To reach You,
To find You,
I’ve been roaming across ropes,
But none of them tie me any tighter to You.
I’ve been blundering between bars,
But they don’t hold enough weight to help make my flight any lighter to You.