Jaci Turner Creative Studio

09/27/2025

The Fragile Cannot Silence Us
by Jaci Turner

They tried to chain a joke,
to bind a laugh in red tape,
as if a punchline could topple
their paper-thin throne.

They told the press,
“Sign here before you speak.
Your words must pass through us
before they reach the page.”

But freedom does not bend so easily.
It is older than their titles,
wider than their walls,
a chorus louder than any single voice.

We were not given breath
to whisper what is safe.
We were given breath
to tell the truth,
to question power,
to laugh in the face of tyranny.

Let them tremble at satire,
at headlines they cannot rewrite.
For every time they clutch the reins,
a thousand hands reach out
to steady the wheel of liberty.

And still we rise,
not fragile,
not afraid —
voices unbroken,
voices unbowed,
voices that carry this nation forward.

07/26/2025

We’re shaped by what we’re taught. But what came before that?

Before the Noise
by Jaci Turner

We are born
not blank,
but brimming.

Before the first name,
a knowing.
Before the first wound,
a light.

The soul arrives
uncoated:
a wild, wordless truth
no hand can teach.

It waits,
quiet as snowfall,
before the noise begins.

Then the world starts its whisper.
A mother’s hum.
A bruise at recess.
A voice that tells us who to be.
And we begin
to shape
what we see
into meaning.

This is consciousness,
the map we draw
to survive
the distance
between others
and ourselves.

But the soul?
It doesn’t move.
It doesn’t age.
It waits beneath the scaffolding
we build to feel safe.

Some call it God,
or breath,
or the pull of the ocean
for no reason at all.

And when the body exhales
for the last time,
maybe it’s only the map
that falls away
and the soul,
untouched by weather,
returns
to whatever
called it here.

07/24/2025

Echoes of the Sixth
by Jaci Turner

We’ve seen this storm begin to swell,
A fragile ego, fierce as hell.
The truth denied, the blame deflects,
While power trembles at what’s next.

He spins the tale, he shifts the blame,
Each word a crack in his own name.
The walls close in, the room turns cold,
A kingdom shrinking, losing hold.

The stage is set, the tone is grim,
Old ghosts grow louder, chasing him.
He stokes the fire with reckless breath,
Avoiding mirrors, fearing death.

This time feels darker, close to edge,
A man unraveling on the ledge.
The lies grow loud, the base is stirred,
Each false alarm a sharpened word.

So here we stand: not blind, not still,
We’ve seen the cost of reckless will.
A siege once summoned by a lie
Could rise again if truth runs dry.

07/21/2025

Becoming Her Again
by Jaci Turner

I used to laugh with wild delight,
With arms flung wide and eyes so bright.
The girl I was knew how to shine,
Before the world redrew the line.

She made the smallest things feel grand,
She spoke with ease, she took a stand.
She didn’t worry, didn’t hide,
She didn’t shrink or step aside.

But slowly, in the growing years,
She met confusion, doubt, and fears.
And little by little, joy grew thin,
As quiet settled deep within.

I watched her fade beneath my skin,
Replaced by someone caged within.
A softened voice, a lowered gaze,
A woman dimmed by others’ praise.

For years I searched the path she knew,
But didn’t trust the way back through.
She felt like light behind a door,
A warmth I couldn’t find before.

But healing doesn’t shout or scream;
It rises slow, like waking dreams.
And somewhere in the cracks of pain,
I felt her laughter rise again.

Not all at once, but soft and true,
In daring thoughts, in things I do.
She’s not a past I left behind,
She’s who I am, returned in kind.

07/06/2025

07/01/2025

Chasing distant light,
I missed the bloom at my feet—
Now, I learn to stay.

06/22/2025

The Trump administration just bombed Iran—without Congressional approval.

Congress was informed only shortly before the strike. This wasn’t a deliberated act of defense. It was a unilateral move by a president acting like a king—and Congress is letting him.

We are now on the brink of war. American men and women across the world are in danger, and the administration leading this moment is filled with unqualified loyalists more concerned with favor than with duty.

This is reckless. This is dangerous. And this is not leadership.

Congress, you must act. The Constitution gives you power for a reason. Lives depend on it.

06/21/2025

A Spark Inside
by Jaci Turner

I try to live a life that’s kind,
To speak with care, to seek and find
The quiet path, the steady grace,
To leave some light in every place.

They say that Christ is far above,
But I have felt Him most in love.
Not thunderclaps or skies ablaze,
But in the humble, honest ways.

In lifting hands, in wiping tears,
In showing up despite my fears,
In walking on when roads feel steep,
In keeping promises I keep.

Not perfect, no, but still I try,
To tell the truth, to hear a cry.
And when I do, I feel Him near,
Not in my words, but in the ear.

For what if Christ is not just there,
But dwells in hearts that choose to care?
A spark, a guide, a whispered flame,
That stirs each time we love His name.

And maybe you have felt it too,
In all the good you try to do.
He’s not just watching from the skies,
But lives in hands that help and rise.

06/18/2025

Not In This Wrong
by Jaci Turner

They came today with cold intent,
To take the weary, innocent.
No crime but hope, no threat, no harm,
Still dragged away with force and arm.

The watchers wept, the children cried,
As kindness burned and hope was tried.
While faithless voices justified,
We stood, unbowed, and testified.

Not of the body, yet of grace,
A tear in love’s enduring thread.
For every cage and every chain
Leaves unseen scars, leaves deeper stain.

We will not bow, we won’t forget,
Nor let this dark rewrite the debt.
Our faith was never built on fear,
The stranger’s face is sacred here.

So lift your voice, and let it ring,
This is not justice. This is sin.
And while we breathe, we still belong,
In love, in grace - not in this wrong.

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