Geoff Blanchett

Gracie at the Siege of Troy

Upon the battered shores of Troy
did Gracie arise
from the lapping waves.

As the armies of Agamemmnon charged
the walls, Gracie followed
in their wake, the marks of
her claws in the sand
the only trace of her path,
her triangular head
split wide in a grin,
her tongue lolling
almost to the sand,
her eyes bright
and eager.

She came upon
the fallen bulk of Achilles
face down in a pool
of seafoam and blood,
his last drops of life
leaching away
from the shattered remnants
of his foot.

Any true-hearted warrior would
have ended his misery,

but Gracie
was meant
for other tasks.

So she galloped away
into the billowing steams
of war,

and there, on a nearby dune,
mighty Hector
loomed over
the beaten Petrochalus,
his sword raised
for the kill.

One with hatred,
Or at least righteous fury,
in her heart might have come
to the boy’s defense,
and struck out with crushing blows
opposing the bullying hulk,

but Gracie
was lost in other thoughts,
and she passed on,

loping along the shoreline,
where the Trojan
and Mycaenean blood

was beginning to mingle
in rivulets
of bitter wine,
and the screams
of the dying
mingled with the ravenous squawks
of circling gulls.

At last,
with the city gates
looming above her,
Gracie caught sight of her quarry.

She let loose
a howl of joy and,
as her grin enveloped her,
dashed off in pursuit,

as just beyond her reach,
cowardly Paris
ran for his life, howling
to his gods for mercy

as Gracie’s hot breath
cleaned the sand
off his untouched heels.

 

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Geoff Blanchette is a writer and actor based in Westerly, RI

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Wanna read more? Here’s some photography in our Morality Collection by James Futrell

Morality Park – A.G. Diedericks

Sudden Denouement Collective

Welcome to Morality Park
where sleeping dogs bark
and never lie
Where the fire in our hearts combust the torch of Lady Liberty
With flames that will enlighten
your misconceptions
We are the Arsonists
and tonight,
We will conflagrate the patriarchy!

Do not think us unkind
If you tell us
It’s just inside our mind
We’ll write you
a benevolent epitaph
whilst an empath
runs you a crimson bath

Mad Men tried to contain
the mosaic fragments of our delirium
inside prosaic bottles of lithium;
bereft of clarity
and dressed in normality

Restless sanity
Uncaged anxiety
with legislative amnesty
to fluctuate, and Soar
High, on top of the See-saw

In Morality Park;
There are no grey areas!
Yes, I’m talking to you rapists
You, who said you misread her signals
We’ll hang you by the wrong head
and blame it on a typo
from the judge’s sentence

We, the hypochondriacs

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Saschia Johnson- Morality Collection

Saschia Moraldom

Moraldom

Wrap me in white and send me along,
away to a place where there’s no rules

Rock me steady on a hollow log
listen for my beats, while I drift along

Gift me your love while in white I dream
but what I want is to be alone, I suppose

watch as everything escapes from your scheme
but please oh please let my lover of prose

Sing until I’m a blooming rose.

Saschia Johnson -Creator from Southeastern Connecticut

Would you like to add your opinion? Instead of commenting on this post please write/create something to be shared with the community.

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Wanna read more? Here’s another great piece in our collection written by Simon Williams

Toni Williams -Morality Collection

Toni Williams- on morality

“I define morality by God’s written word.
Luckily God makes it plain
so that we are without excuse.
In fact God lists bad behavior
out in Romans 1:29-32.
Romans 2:1 states we have no excuse.”

-Toni Williams raised catholic, married a Protestant, go to any church that preaches and teaches Jesus Christ is Lord.

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Would you like to add your opinion? Instead of commenting on this post please write/create something to be shared with the community.

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Wanna read more? Here’s another great piece in our Morality Collection Moraldom by Saschia Johnson

 

Who are we?

 

Welcome to Jayne’s

A place where you can be human.

 

Our Mission

The mission of Jayne.Press is to inspire growth and respect real life content within New England. Jayne.Press will continue to find ways to increase in community to create a place for writers to be paid for their craft through writing real life experiences, using creative ways to advance inner growth, and providing an outlet from mundane lifestyles. Jayne.press will continue to evolve along with readership.

Interested in providing content? Click here to be part of current collection.

Redivivus -Geoff Blanchette

Geoff Redivivous

Redivivus

Find me a child, one sweet and young
with dimpled cheeks and wrinkled smile,
one who dances with the flowers
and catches mantis nymphs in a mason jar,
one that speaks simply, with no trace of guile.

Find me the child and bring it to me,
locked in my cage in the madhouse of the real,
and I will tell it of all the howling banshees
the rivers of blood, the mountains of bones
and the twin gods of Sword and Gun.

And when the child weeps and asks me why,
why I have told it of all these things,
I will answer the only way I can:
“This, dear child, is the world that I created.
This, dear child, is the world you must redeem.”

Geoff Blanchette is a writer and actor based in Westerly, RI

Artist Chad Cocilo

Meeting Artist Chad Cocilo was an honor. When writing this I was more focused on who Chad was as an individual and who he was as an artist. But I have added a link to The New London Patch which goes more in depth on his art style and technique.

“I pay no attention whatever to anybody’s praise or blame. I simply follow my own feelings.”

― Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

“Fuck em all.”

We were on our way to meet Chad Cocilo but right beforehand, he asked us if we wanted to come to his studio. I was totally siked. When I think “studio” I think of Jackson Pollock, alcohol, cigarettes, and wet canvases with paint brushes balanced on them. My co-pilot, on the other hand, thought in the opposite direction and felt it wasn’t a good idea. So, I said, in my oh-so-convincing voice, “We’ll just drive by the club [his studio resided over and check out the scene.”

We parked across the street and while Melissa smoked, we assessed it together mentally. I felt her tension ease, which I’m sure was only because she forced it to, knowing how excited I was. It didn’t take much assessing to know the area was questionable. I text him to let him know we were there and he met us outside. We walked up to the building arms brushing against each other. We got to the door and I noticed he has those ocean eyes. He was standing there tall and brave, eyes kind of sad looking. Cigarette in hand, while he was waiting for us in jeans and a button down. I would have never guessed him to be an artist. Then again what exactly should an artist look like?

He held the door open and allowed me to lead the way up a dark and narrow stair case. As I began to walk up the stairs I couldn’t even see a door at the top. I put my hand against the wall to guide my way. The building was old but the stairs were sturdy. We got to a door with no lock. I was afraid to open it because this wasn’t my door to open. I admitted out loud that I was scared and stepped aside. Melissa stepped aside as well, saying with her eyes, “O no, it’s not gunna be me.”

He strolled up with his broad shoulders and casually opened the door. I turned to look in the studio, my mouth dropped and I was completely awe struck. It was like the Willie Wonka of art factories. I felt like dancing, but there was artists at work. This was more than I had imagined. It was creativity heaven. Any medium you could think of in every shade. Paint in cans, bottles, jars, and on canvases that were strewn from the floor to the ceiling. And it was a high ceiling. There was nails, wood, glue, artist made tables and fixtures everywhere. I felt creative just walking in. I was amazed. Where have I been? How could this wondrous place be in my town and I never knew about it?

After shuffling around and attempting to contain myself. We found a table to sit at and began to talk. He seemed a bit unsure, at first. He began to warm up after a few questions, a cigarette, and a finished can of something alcoholic. I enjoyed listening to him speak. He spoke soft and monotone. His voice was so easy to listen to, even with the noise of the art demanding my attention.

Chad had started as an artist after the passing of a friend which led him into gifting art for others. He surprised the family, band mates, and close friends with portraits he created. After some time, he broke away from stencil work and graffiti and started doing work that came straight from his own mind. It felt more like his work. It’s a challenge for him as an artist to put his art out there for the world to see while facing criticism.

“You can’t take anyone personal ever because that’s their own insecurities. You can pick and choose what to take from it to better yourself,” he says. He even shared that he’s been called a phony because he’s sold expensive pieces around the world. Even so, he feels a freedom with his art. He focuses on that freedom and not being stuck. When he says stuck he doesn’t mean literally. He means, he doesn’t want to be stuck in the 9-5, “counting sheep” work week.

“It’s just nice to know there’s something else out there.” His freedom has ruined relationships and gained new ones. When asked by an ex-girlfriend if he was just going to skateboard and paint for the rest of his life, his reply was, “hell yea!”

On my way out the door he says, “You can ask me anything. I am an open book.” I respected his transparency, gave a genuine nod, and turned to the staircase where we had begun.

Morality Project

I have decided my new project will be based around different views of morality. Here’s my view on morality taken from Gilbert Harman’s article Moral Relativism Explained

Moral relativism, as I understand it, is the claim that there is not a
single objectively true morality but only many different moralities, just
as there is not a single true language but only many different languages.

Gilbert Harman
Princeton University

This is a complex subject and can get very personal but, I think it’s something worth talking about, writing about, and getting creative about. According to Henry James,

Art lives upon discussion, upon experiment, upon creativity, upon variety of attempt, upon the exchange of views and comparison of standpoints…

So lets discuss, compare,  exchange, and make some art!

I will be collecting different pieces and posting them to my blog until January 2018. I will take ALL the responses and add them to this blog. It’s considered pure opinion and perspective here. Art, Quotes, Essays, lists, photography, book suggestions, poetry, short stories under 7000 words are all acceptable. Email: saschia.johnson@gmail.com or fill out form here.

Morality Project

Good Morning thinkers,

I’m doing a Collection/Project on morality and I need your help. If you could just tell me your opinion of what you feel is Morally Right vs Morally Wrong or Morally Good vs Morally Evil I will add you into my collection/project. There are no right or wrong answers here. It’s pure opinion and perspective. I will take ALL the answers and add them in. Quotes, Essays, lists, pictures, book suggestions, poetry, short stories under 7000 words are all acceptable. Thanks in advance for supporting my endeavors.

Sidenote: If you disagree with someone’s ideas on morality this isn’t the place to debate them. No refutes, telling someone they are wrong, or small minded in their beliefs.

Content can be sent with contact form below or to Saschia.johnson@gmail.com