Transitions

By Jen Selinsky

"Transitions" is a triathlon of works, which includes poetry, a short story, "Summertime Blues," and a short experimental work containing the same name as the title of the book.

"Summertimes Blues" is about an overworked woman named Justine Wesley who questions the state of her marriage after her husband announces that he just received a big promotion.

"Transitions" is a short experimental work in which the Voice (or Narrator) brings five literary greats together in one room: Emily Dickinson, Willa Cather, Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, and Adrienne Rich.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jen Selinsky
• Release date: Nov 9, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370452361

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.

Book preview

Transitions

Jen Selinsky

Summertime Blues and Transitions are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2010 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 © 2010 by Jen Selinsky

ISBN: 9781370452361

One Week

One Week

Why you lookin’ so bleak?

I cannot say (why).

Just some more days until

You go down the aisle with

Your life in your hands—

Soon ready to change

With everything.

But you know the change

Will be good, and you’ll

Like it because of her.

Happiness all around for those

Who wish you good thoughts.

And you know nothing else

Could be good for you.

You’re a young man,

You’re a sure groom.

You’re not uncertain on

Where you will be.

You’re getting feelings real

Deep in your mind.

And that’s all you feel,

But that will pass and

Move somewhere else now

That you’ll see the light.

5/10/08

Gentle Soul

Gentle soul,

Your words could

Touch lives like shiny beacons.

Glistening, like waiting for wisdom

That comes out at the most

Appropriate moment.

You were so kind and brave

To push worry out of our minds.

Soldier, took everything in stride

In order to climb to the light.

Your love, it radiated through

Your soul and made everyone

Feel like part of the family.

Ceremonies that had been

Done like tradition; your life’s joy

Was one.

Instrument in hand, you took to

Your guitar and formed a circle

Of friends; though talent so great

Did not need to boast.

You were suited, so well it appeared,

You could tear the entire house down,

As you watched the motion on the

Floor and the crowd of smiling faces.

Soldier, gentle soul, you have now found

Your way to the light.

*in loving memory of Lonnie R. Johnson

April 2009

Cold as a Rose, as a Rose

Cold as a rose, whose pedals

Have fallen

Onto the newborn snow—

Bright as anything the world

Can see.

Cold as a rose to feel the

First sting of winter,

As my eyes stare into the

Void in the sky.

Flesh anticipating the same

Thing—sting for its wayward

Trek—its eventual descent

Into nothingness, to resurrect inside

The warm embrace of next spring.

2/9/10

Why did I start here?

Sleepy.

Knowing I’ll not end,

Creepy.

Mind keeps on going,

Tripping.

To help my eyelids,

Dripping.

Sing something precious,

Spacey.

(As) each new thought hatches,

Lacy.

2/10/10

For this place, I care not.

Useless, groping at shadows

Of what I was and what

I strive to become.

Honesty in my

Discontentment,

Holding it in

Would only make

My heart burst

For the hatred

Of the ice and the cold

Flowing through my veins.

Heated blood, rising

Quickly to match

The mercury

At the top

Then lowers, like the

Stinking innards of a

Dead beast, as it

Festers and lowers

Itself back down

With no certain exit,

Dismal as a wintry

Night, for knowing that

The threat of forced

Servitude keeps me still

Where I lie.

2/10/10

Don’t wanna stop,

Don’t wanna choose;

Too many thoughts

Filling up when I

Don’t have the blues.

2/10/10

Distant days in a far off spring—

Just waiting

To come alive again.

Natural births and dreams

On glorious wings—

How the wind does

Come to our aid when

We need to take flight.

Nothing to behold

In plain sight anymore,

Now that our

Destination is nearly

Here.

What more do I

Have to fear when

Love is on our side?

Glancing forward

To establish

Our pride,

As distance

Poses no

More threat.

The laughter of

The innocent

Creature moves

Us all to take

Our proper places.

2/11/10

Painted whores

In glossy glory,

Whose surfaces

Are anything

But clean, rank

With sugar and

Other agents that kill

And drag a man down

The wrong spiral path,

Where they lead you

To a gutter, to watch

You curl up and die.

2/16/10

Don’t know where I’m going,

Just know that I have to get back

Into your arms—

Back before the thirst

Overwhelms my body

And my throat.

Heart of longing and learning;

This goes much further

Than the awkward