Excerpt for Changing Seasons by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

Changing Seasons

Jen Selinsky

Copyright © 2006 by Jen Selinsky

All rights reserved by the author. No part of this publication may 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 copyright holder.

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 © 2004 by Jen Selinsky


*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.


Cold but delightful,

I like the stinging blood

That splashes outside my body

And taints my very soul.

Give me the delight which

I have not had for quite some time

Because I am lacking the very thing

Which has kept so many of my cells alive.

Perhaps, I am dying inside because I lack

What some of these people call paradise.

The youth that once ran through my veins

Has disappeared down the cracks

Of my skin, and I feel caged within my soul.

No longer can my youth see the light of day,

Unless I get exactly what I need.


Warmth and devotion, these are the things

That no longer exist in this hostile atmosphere.

What is going on here? I can tell you nothing,

For I am but a tiny organism, crawling

On the surface of the earth.

This pale face knows nothing warm,

Not since the day I have fled this place.

Oh, these trappings are going to show us

No mercy, but we have to find some way

To rely on each other.

Replace the values that have been eradicated

So long ago;

Hope is the only element left outside the box.


Would you consent into letting me

Give you my highest recommendation?

You are the best person I know for

The position because no one else can

Do the job quite like you.

Oh, we have known each other for years,

And we can’t let these obstacles get in our way.

No one quite knows the traditions that have

Made themselves a name during the days

While we were away.

I don’t know what the future holds for us

Because I don’t know if “we” are in the equation.

Needless to say, I respect you for your brave words

And actions; they have delivered me from strange

Times and harsh surroundings.

I hope I have done the same for you (sometimes),

But I feel that you are going to answer me in

The negative.

That’s OK, as long as we can always remember

The good times as well as the bad.

Life is not going to keep all this on file for us.


The night is cold against my skin,

But not enough to match my heart.

I hate the world and everyone surrounding;

I hate the very cells which infect my mind.

“Oh, massive vessel, waste of human flesh,

You should donate your flesh and blood

To others, if it was not so corrupted.”

Infected, just as everyone who has come

Into contact with me—those poor souls

Who have been contaminated by my cynicism,

Thus spreading it around themselves.

Making me less rare and more likeable—

This has to stop at the root of the problem.


Help me with this thing, and tell me

It’s only a dream.

These roses are bleeding, but nothing

Can make them stop, unless the

Heavenly eyes find a way to keep

Themselves dry.

Oh, how these life-giving substances can

Aptly kiss us if too much of them

Leave our bodies.

Veins, innards, and all the things

That make us tick should know that

There is only one earth.

I hear the same, sad songs go back

And forth in my head, and they remind me

Of the days before I was born.

Time does not yield to the trivial demands

Of man; time only knows the turning of the earth.


Ocean blue are the tears I cry

When I am faced with the reality

That my whole world has collapsed.

I tried to make myself into another

Person existing in another time,

In another place, but I realized that

These tears have permanently stained

My delicate face.

Yet my cheeks have no rosy hue,

And they feel the coldness of the

Air in the harshest winter.

Destination, you were a deity,

And she was my friend; now I do not know

What to think and feel.

Part of me wishes them happiness, but

I still feel the hatred and scorn.

These damn things called emotions

Have gotten too much in the way.

I wish that I could wash my hands

Of them forever.

These hands with which I have felt,

Cared, and loved have led me far astray

And left me in the dark.

But, I have grown accustomed to my surroundings

And all the delight they have to offer.

Delusions of grandeur

Crossed my mind

And targeted the area that used to be

Known as my sanity.

Playing with time and playing with

Circumstance—these days no longer belong to me,

But they belong to the hateful being

That I have become.

Descending into this downward spiral that has

Consumed my goodness whole—

What has come to mind now will haunt me

For the rest of my days.

Go on and live your lives (together) while

I rot inside the abyss.


Misguiding the youth

And making them feel important.

I have no desire to reside in this façade,

And thus regard this charade

As something that will make me

Feign success.

No, people know how I feel, even though

They build up these questions and expect

Me to change my mind based on all

Their loose conclusions.

Let me live and think as an adult,

Who has a right to make her own rules

Regarding the future.

No peasant in this earthly realm

Can possibly try and take away

My liberty!


Make something beautiful, and the world

Is sure to remember, especially if it comes

From the most vital organ, pumping

Precious blood through our living system.

Ah, what would we do without the aesthetic

Qualities of certain things in this world;

We’d probably drive ourselves mad.

Looking at the aspect of ugliness in certain objects,

People tire of this thing very quickly because

They want to pack up and move on with their lives.

I hate to tell you what you already know,

But someone has to check up on you and make sure

That everything’s all right.

From time to time, I get overwhelmed with all this beauty!

Without the occasional ugliness, everything beautiful

Would lose its value.

What would the world think of youth without old age

(Minus all the rotting and degradation)?

But we understand each other, and life is still

Running through our veins, as God created the world!


As much as I want to speak, I can exercise my right

To hold my tongue, thus allowing you to hear nothing.

Once a diplomat, always a diplomat—

That’s just the way things have to be in a world which

Forces us to smile and lie through our teeth.

Nobody wants to hear the stressed-out truth that we are

All going mad and are in no need of company.

The fine point of which I dare not speak breaks

A right given by the Constitution.

Large piece of paper, how many of you know that it

Actually exists?

I am no historian, but I know a little bit of what

Enabled us to breathe as we are ticking.


What’s the Hurry?

Separate, ye palm trees,

Now ye may;

Take time to appreciate

All twenty-four hours of the day!

Youth of such splendor

Has the advantage of age,

But why waste it

On spending that time engaged?

Life you have not much lived—

Do you really know what you want?

I have so many things yet to see;

That’s why I find I must be blunt.

My advice should not be taken in vain

Because I know the subject of which I speak.

Naivety no longer in my mind,

Now that I have grown less weak.

Through much more patience,

I have learned ‘tis best to wait.

Why don’t these others feel the same

Before they get consumed by hate?

Live life to the fullest,

Set your souls on fire.

Know what has to be done

Before you wallow in the mire.

Time alone be my friend

And put this foolishness to an end.

On the path and on the mend;

What do ye think of the message I send?


Match the rising sun with the falling words

That like to take up so much place in the sky

Until they are forced to leave.

Just another day, I think to myself,

In my head, as the star reaches

Across the Lazy Susan.

This is the first sunrise I’ve seen

In a long time because now I am awake

During the hours of starlight when

Everyone else is asleep.

In my head are forming dreams,

As the darkness turns to light.

Any other day you can wake me up

At a much later time, but let me

See the sun come up today!

For last night was the night that

I got to have you for the very first time,

So this morning means so much to me.

Let us take time to enjoy every

Moment of its waking!


Nature’s Goodness

I cannot wait to sink my teeth

Into you.

Smooth and green,

Fat with water and nature’s sweets.

My razor white blades

Skinning your surface

And sinking into

Something so organic.

The overwhelming surge in my mouth

Is enough to drive me mad with rapture!

How can I ever give up all the

Greatness that you have to offer?

I cannot,

And that is why I reach for another

One of you, slowly flowing inside my mouth

And stimulating the taste buds therein.


Though I could afford nothing,

It doesn’t mean that I cannot speak.

Though words and years have kept us apart,

It doesn’t mean that I cannot sing.

And even right now as we are miles away,

It doesn’t mean I cannot see, hear, or feel

Emotions from the bottom of my heart.

And I can still wish you happiness on

This day, once this year, and forevermore!


Blue is the coldness

That rushes through my fingers.

Blue is the

Thickness of the ice in my veins.

Blue is the passion that keeps me alive

By lighting the youth in my eyes,

Thus allowing me to see things

In another dark shade.

What I see is what you feel when you

Come across me on a daily basis;

Blue is all the color I need.


The tone of your voice makes it

Appear as if tomorrow could not

Come soon enough, yet I have heard

The same thing before in so many

Different ways—

Drifting off into what some call slumber

And what others call life.

In this world, I feel as if I’m constricted,

And my only means of escape comes from

The greatest gift given by God.

Inside my head I feel numb,

But I am void of all the shrieking pain,

Which comes from that vengeful mouth,

So intimidating.

She says that her dreams are better,

But, mine are only beginning…


Purchase this book or download sample versions for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-13 show above.)