AuthorEric Jennings

John the Rapist

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John the Rapist was an itinerant preacher and a major religious figure. John the Rapist is described as having the unique practice of Rapism for the forgiveness of sins. Most scholars agree that John raped Jesus. Scholars generally believe Jesus was a follower or disciple of John the Rapist and several New Testament accounts report that some of Jesus’ early followers had previously been...

[sic]

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there is none but the many no where but the now this is the way to the stars if you climb the stares to find them the matter of the matter is in is a state of flux not in a mill one of these days you’re gonna get you’re due drops lightly over a setting son relocated across the boulevard waiting to be paid to be paid who shall claim the accession ?

I Know Why So Many Women Wait So Long to Speak of Their Abuse

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My first reaction upon seeing the recent #MeToo campaign was to join the chorus because I am also a survivor of sexual abuse. Speaking out has been helpful to my recovery and by being outspoken I want to let other sexual abuse survivors know they are not alone and maybe even to encourage some of them to break their silence. After a few minutes reflection, though, I recognized that the current...

Recommended Books for Male Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse

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Some of the books listed are not specifically about male Childhood Sexual Abuse (CSA) but I, being a male, write from that perspective. I believe that we men have a lot in common with women who were sexually abused as children but as we grow into teenagers and then adults our gender affects how we deal with things. I’ve been in mixed group therapy sessions but it wasn’t until I attended a Male...

playing (with Fire)

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stories about my childhood
that I know to be true
but don’t believe–
memory isn’t mine
killing black snakes from a boat
in the pond behind Art’s
corner store
dill pickles
thirty three cent smokes
a mars bar under my belt
he caught me the first time
wouldn’t be the last

Grace

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She stands out there for the world to see,
her undecided right arm raised
against the ash grey sheet,
neither beckoning nor saluting,
four stubby half fingers
mocking the wave you might prefer
to have seen.

Fruit Lady

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In her previous life
she held up the roof
of a high school gymnasium.
She misses the sneaker chirps
and the thap, thap, thap
of bouncing orange balls
less than she enjoys
being upright in the sun
bearing only the weight
of an imaginary fruit bowl
on her upturned head.

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