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Bio for Jenny Olson


Jenny Olson wants her words to make people both feel and think. She writes from the extremes of the human experience. From human trafficking to freedom, addiction to recovery, abuse to redemption. A survivor of complex trauma and a widow forging a new life, Olson is a fearless poet whose work has appeared in online and print journals, as well as multiple anthologies. Her writing confronts the hard truths people often avoid—what is done to us, and what we do to ourselves—with an unflinching, no-holds-barred intensity. Her debut collection, "Winter of Pink Flamingos", is available on Amazon. Her latest collection "Echoes & Whispers - My Ancestor Poems is available on Amazon now.

 

These poems are the musings of an angry woman.

Time Will Tell⁣


story is an old one⁣
an old lady in trouble⁣
no knight to save her⁣
all she has ⁣
is herself⁣

working through⁣
tears that won't stop⁣
just a little girl⁣
trying to hold⁣
her big person⁣
together⁣
with duct tape⁣
and fantasies⁣

time will tell⁣
how her story ends⁣
and if she lets⁣
this little girl save her⁣

she always thought⁣
she'd save the⁣
little girl⁣
now she knows⁣
healing has to start⁣
back where it started⁣
to her eight-year old self⁣
and daddy's good night kisses—⁣
a lifetime of pain⁣
and bad choices⁣
time to sit back⁣
and let the younger her⁣
drive them forward⁣

but only time will tell⁣

Jenny Olson 4/30/25⁣
Jenny Olson The Poet © 2026 ⁣


Trust a Sorry

maybe the one

and only sorry

i got from him

the last night he lived

did mean something

after a lifetime

it was all i got

and maybe

just maybe it was

enough

and if i believe that

i can let go

of the anger

and the pain

to begin to heal


i'll try

to trust a sorry


Jenny Olson 4/12/26

Jenny Olson The Poet © 2026

   

No Reconsidering Here


been thinking lately

about him, my dead husband

and our story

finding grace

and forgiveness

for the much younger me

and choices i made


i would do 

it all over again

the same way

in my mind

there were no

other choices

not after my life

before i met him


would it have been

of course

to not be controlled,

bruised and abused


fuck yes


but life has never been easy

i've lived a life

as the saying goes

so many hidden hurts

the kind a life of abuse

leaves 

it made me kind

with a hell of a temper

but kind


so many years

but no

i wouldn't

reconsider my life

any differently 

Jenny Olson 4/18/26

Jenny Olson The Poet © 2026

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⁣


memories⁣
those things under rocks⁣

or hiding in the dark corners⁣
of my closet⁣

often coming back ⁣
unbidden⁣

my memories⁣
are like my trauma⁣
they can be⁣
both bad and good⁣
at the same time⁣

like his touch was⁣

which leads to⁣
heart confusion⁣

which one wins?⁣

problem with memories—⁣
is i never know⁣
back under the rocks⁣
they go⁣

Jenny Olson 4/13/26⁣
Jenny Olson The Poet ⁣

𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧⁣

i tried the ruby shoes⁣
clicking and clicking⁣
can't say i went home⁣

ever⁣

can you ever ⁣
go home again?⁣
when home is⁣
inside you?⁣

going home⁣
once more⁣

Jenny Olson 4/11/26⁣
Jenny Olson The Poet © 2026⁣

Hippo In the Room

no elephant in my family

was a hippo in the room

one of the most dangerous critters

jaws will chomp you,

take you down


it was turning around 

in circles in the living room,

nowhere to hide


the hippo said

"Let's keep her invisible!"


why did the hippo

want to take me down?

i was so young

and scared 

never hurt anyone


but i told about daddy,

got blamed,

tried to die, failed

young girl passed out

on living room couch

saved by my boy scout

baby brother


and then the hippo 

moved in to stay

keep down


nope, i refused 

to be unseen

make enough noise

they'd have to notice me

not talk about me

like i wasn't there


no therapy for us—

she's at fault

and the hippo said yes

so I had to fight

that hippo for years

until i left


when i left

the hippo went back

 to wherever

he came from

but it didn't know

that i would be back

stronger than ever

and loud

came back screaming

like a banshee in the night 

a warning to the hippo 

that a lioness

came back

not a scared girl

the woman

who roars


no more

hippo in the room


Jenny Olson 5/19/25

Jenny Olson The Poet © 2025 

 

 

Before You Left

Before You Left

i never got the chance
to ask you to leave
my heart
when you left
give it back whole
and unscathed
healed from the
years of "us"
you just died with no real remorse

and no one told
me what being
your widow would mean
no one prepared me for
the grief of loving you
no one told me
that i would have to
make decisions on my own
what to eat, what to wear
trying to do these
and step out into a world
i don't know how to navigate
without you telling
me what to say, how to manage

and i never got the chance
to say i hated you
as the mantle of abuse was lifted
and i had to figure
out how to live
how to move forward
and would never forgive you

before you left me
broken and alone
standing in the middle
of all the parts of me
with a heart that
may never heal

Jenny Olson 11/1/24 - rewtire 11/27/24
Jenny Olson The Poet © 2024




Scriblles on a Napkin
From:  Winter of Pink Flamingos

somewhere west

off Route 66

is a truck stop

that's seen better days

formica counter tops

red, fake leather booth backs

 

teased blond hair

too much makeup

hair in a messy bun

typical waitress on the strip

but she had dreams

of being a writer

a poet

 

truckers liked her boobs

her smile, her laugh

hit on her every day

but she was a writer

a poet

 

 

served their coffee

on poem-covered napkins

laughed too loud

 

 

too much lipstick

always smiling

teasing them all

no enemies in her realm

typical waitress on the strip

 

they started coming

not for her boobs

not for her smile or her laugh

stopped hitting on her

they started coming

for her words

 

they shared those words

with other burly truckers

reading poetry out loud

she leaned back against the counter

and smiled

pulled a notepad out

of her apron pocket

and wrote poetry

like she was born to do

she was a writer

a poet

 

Smoke is In the Air

smoke is in the air
something burning somewhere
it's her, she's burning
the little life she has is burning
his sickness takes away
the last thing she had for herself
the life she fought
so hard to make within the walls
he built around her
no more chats before logging in
no more bitching after meetings
no more meetings
truth be told, she liked meetings
no more working from hospital
instead of working from home
her career, her identity of her
she had made something of herself
all burning up
like the end of her childhood
burned up for him, he took and took
she knew she didn't get back
but there's smoke in the air
and no way to put that fire out
It burns down to coals
that crush under her feet
smoke is in the air
Jenny Olson 4/3/2024
Jenny Olson The Poet © 2024

 

Rataplan

 

i hear you drumming

against the walls,

of your urn

what remains of you

is angry

    no little drummer boy, here 


i move forward

leaving you

leaving the life we had

   all behind


telling the secrets

that almost took me out

but now i realize

many were yours

   not mine


stop your banging

on that fancy ass urn

wish it was anywhere but here 

   most days


but our kids know

where to find you

and so do i

   all too well

 

rataplan

when i don't answer 

you chase me in my sleep

i need peace

    quiet


i hear it in my dreams

trauma nightmares 

you chasing me

down some dark alley

    footsteps pounding


the beating of my heart

frighten, i wake

sit up, unsettled

   again

 

rataplan


time for quiet

fucking leave me alone


Jenny Olson 2/19/25

Jemmy Olson The Poet © 2025