Jaci Turner
@scienematters.bsky.social
Commentary and poems of hope, courage & kindness and children’s author. ✍️ Follow to stay connected & see new work each week.
The Last to Speak
by Jaci Turner
Some truths arrive early—
in the quiet hearts of people
who feel the shift in the room
before anyone else names it.
We heard it in his voice,
the way a storm tells its own future
by the shape of the wind.
Nothing hidden.
Nothing coy.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
Some truths arrive early—
in the quiet hearts of people
who feel the shift in the room
before anyone else names it.
We heard it in his voice,
the way a storm tells its own future
by the shape of the wind.
Nothing hidden.
Nothing coy.
🧵
November 17, 2025 at 3:40 PM
The Last to Speak
by Jaci Turner
Some truths arrive early—
in the quiet hearts of people
who feel the shift in the room
before anyone else names it.
We heard it in his voice,
the way a storm tells its own future
by the shape of the wind.
Nothing hidden.
Nothing coy.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
Some truths arrive early—
in the quiet hearts of people
who feel the shift in the room
before anyone else names it.
We heard it in his voice,
the way a storm tells its own future
by the shape of the wind.
Nothing hidden.
Nothing coy.
🧵
Two Economies
by Jaci Turner
There are two economies in this country,
though we pretend there is only one.
One lives on television screens—
all arrows green and climbing,
a chorus of smiling anchors
calling it a boom,
a miracle,
the best we’ve ever had.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
There are two economies in this country,
though we pretend there is only one.
One lives on television screens—
all arrows green and climbing,
a chorus of smiling anchors
calling it a boom,
a miracle,
the best we’ve ever had.
🧵
November 16, 2025 at 8:33 PM
Two Economies
by Jaci Turner
There are two economies in this country,
though we pretend there is only one.
One lives on television screens—
all arrows green and climbing,
a chorus of smiling anchors
calling it a boom,
a miracle,
the best we’ve ever had.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
There are two economies in this country,
though we pretend there is only one.
One lives on television screens—
all arrows green and climbing,
a chorus of smiling anchors
calling it a boom,
a miracle,
the best we’ve ever had.
🧵
The House Was Never Meant to Shine Like This
by Jaci Turner
I walk through rooms I’ve never been in,
but I know them.
I know the hush of the walls,
the portraits that watch
with the slow patience of history,
the way light falls differently
on places meant for service
instead of spectacle.
by Jaci Turner
I walk through rooms I’ve never been in,
but I know them.
I know the hush of the walls,
the portraits that watch
with the slow patience of history,
the way light falls differently
on places meant for service
instead of spectacle.
November 1, 2025 at 2:25 PM
The House Was Never Meant to Shine Like This
by Jaci Turner
I walk through rooms I’ve never been in,
but I know them.
I know the hush of the walls,
the portraits that watch
with the slow patience of history,
the way light falls differently
on places meant for service
instead of spectacle.
by Jaci Turner
I walk through rooms I’ve never been in,
but I know them.
I know the hush of the walls,
the portraits that watch
with the slow patience of history,
the way light falls differently
on places meant for service
instead of spectacle.
Voice and Flame
by Jaci Turner
I will not bow to walls of hate,
Nor let fear dictate our fate.
A land once rich in voice and skin,
Now fenced to keep the “other” in.
They speak of pride, but veil their dread,
Of cultures vast and truths they’ve shed.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
I will not bow to walls of hate,
Nor let fear dictate our fate.
A land once rich in voice and skin,
Now fenced to keep the “other” in.
They speak of pride, but veil their dread,
Of cultures vast and truths they’ve shed.
🧵
October 18, 2025 at 3:33 PM
Voice and Flame
by Jaci Turner
I will not bow to walls of hate,
Nor let fear dictate our fate.
A land once rich in voice and skin,
Now fenced to keep the “other” in.
They speak of pride, but veil their dread,
Of cultures vast and truths they’ve shed.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
I will not bow to walls of hate,
Nor let fear dictate our fate.
A land once rich in voice and skin,
Now fenced to keep the “other” in.
They speak of pride, but veil their dread,
Of cultures vast and truths they’ve shed.
🧵
Every generation has a moment when silence breaks. This might be ours — a chorus of voices reminding power who it truly serves.
October 17, 2025 at 1:40 PM
Every generation has a moment when silence breaks. This might be ours — a chorus of voices reminding power who it truly serves.
I just added, “Trump turns on his most trusted loyalists to blame for what can no longer be spun” to my Trump bingo card.
October 17, 2025 at 1:22 PM
I just added, “Trump turns on his most trusted loyalists to blame for what can no longer be spun” to my Trump bingo card.
The Gamers Took the Throne
by Jaci Turner
They mistook the world for a game to play,
Where truth could bend and rules decay.
They pressed their keys and pulled their strings,
And called their chaos “governing things.”
They mocked the minds who’d studied years,
🧵
by Jaci Turner
They mistook the world for a game to play,
Where truth could bend and rules decay.
They pressed their keys and pulled their strings,
And called their chaos “governing things.”
They mocked the minds who’d studied years,
🧵
October 17, 2025 at 12:35 PM
The Gamers Took the Throne
by Jaci Turner
They mistook the world for a game to play,
Where truth could bend and rules decay.
They pressed their keys and pulled their strings,
And called their chaos “governing things.”
They mocked the minds who’d studied years,
🧵
by Jaci Turner
They mistook the world for a game to play,
Where truth could bend and rules decay.
They pressed their keys and pulled their strings,
And called their chaos “governing things.”
They mocked the minds who’d studied years,
🧵
To Those Who Serve
by Jaci Turner for Dave
Tonight the nation holds its breath,
and you hold the weight of not knowing.
Will tomorrow bring work,
or silence,
or a notice that says you are no longer needed?
🧵
by Jaci Turner for Dave
Tonight the nation holds its breath,
and you hold the weight of not knowing.
Will tomorrow bring work,
or silence,
or a notice that says you are no longer needed?
🧵
October 1, 2025 at 1:43 AM
To Those Who Serve
by Jaci Turner for Dave
Tonight the nation holds its breath,
and you hold the weight of not knowing.
Will tomorrow bring work,
or silence,
or a notice that says you are no longer needed?
🧵
by Jaci Turner for Dave
Tonight the nation holds its breath,
and you hold the weight of not knowing.
Will tomorrow bring work,
or silence,
or a notice that says you are no longer needed?
🧵
Echoes
by Jaci Turner
My parents spoke of it—
how fear could slip into the cracks
of a country’s voice,
how leaders could twist
what was sacred
into something sharp.
I thought their stories were warnings,
chapters safely pressed
between the pages of history.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
My parents spoke of it—
how fear could slip into the cracks
of a country’s voice,
how leaders could twist
what was sacred
into something sharp.
I thought their stories were warnings,
chapters safely pressed
between the pages of history.
🧵
September 27, 2025 at 2:04 AM
Echoes
by Jaci Turner
My parents spoke of it—
how fear could slip into the cracks
of a country’s voice,
how leaders could twist
what was sacred
into something sharp.
I thought their stories were warnings,
chapters safely pressed
between the pages of history.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
My parents spoke of it—
how fear could slip into the cracks
of a country’s voice,
how leaders could twist
what was sacred
into something sharp.
I thought their stories were warnings,
chapters safely pressed
between the pages of history.
🧵
The archives betrayed a congresswoman—
her unredacted life released
into rival hands,
her service, her secrets,
scattered like torn pages
in a wind of backlash.
Exposed in the name of
political gain.
her unredacted life released
into rival hands,
her service, her secrets,
scattered like torn pages
in a wind of backlash.
Exposed in the name of
political gain.
September 26, 2025 at 1:50 PM
The archives betrayed a congresswoman—
her unredacted life released
into rival hands,
her service, her secrets,
scattered like torn pages
in a wind of backlash.
Exposed in the name of
political gain.
her unredacted life released
into rival hands,
her service, her secrets,
scattered like torn pages
in a wind of backlash.
Exposed in the name of
political gain.
This isn’t about policy, it’s about projection. He’s manufacturing blame for the shutdown he demanded, hoping people forget his collapsing economy, plummeting polls, and the shadow of the Epstein files.
The louder the deflection, the closer the truth.
The louder the deflection, the closer the truth.
September 25, 2025 at 3:28 PM
This isn’t about policy, it’s about projection. He’s manufacturing blame for the shutdown he demanded, hoping people forget his collapsing economy, plummeting polls, and the shadow of the Epstein files.
The louder the deflection, the closer the truth.
The louder the deflection, the closer the truth.
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.”
🧵
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.”
🧵
September 24, 2025 at 2:45 PM
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.”
🧵
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.”
🧵
That’s a curse disguised as prayer.
True prayer seeks healing, wisdom, and courage — never death. Our democracy, and our humanity, depend on rejecting this poison and choosing a faith that builds bridges, not graves.
True prayer seeks healing, wisdom, and courage — never death. Our democracy, and our humanity, depend on rejecting this poison and choosing a faith that builds bridges, not graves.
Charlie Kirk nodding and said, “That’s right” when one of his TPUSA Faith pastors instructed his audience to pray for nonpolitical pastors “to get right or get dead.”
September 21, 2025 at 1:11 PM
That’s a curse disguised as prayer.
True prayer seeks healing, wisdom, and courage — never death. Our democracy, and our humanity, depend on rejecting this poison and choosing a faith that builds bridges, not graves.
True prayer seeks healing, wisdom, and courage — never death. Our democracy, and our humanity, depend on rejecting this poison and choosing a faith that builds bridges, not graves.
Unity isn’t about erasing differences — it’s about refusing to let those differences be weaponized against us.
September 16, 2025 at 3:21 PM
Unity isn’t about erasing differences — it’s about refusing to let those differences be weaponized against us.
Ash and Stone
by Jaci Turner
Some say the nation breaks with fire,
Some say with stone.
From what I’ve seen of rage’s pyre,
I stand with those who trust the fire.
But if it had to fracture twice,
I’ve heard enough of hate
To know that silence, cold as stone,
Can also shatter—
And suffocate.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
Some say the nation breaks with fire,
Some say with stone.
From what I’ve seen of rage’s pyre,
I stand with those who trust the fire.
But if it had to fracture twice,
I’ve heard enough of hate
To know that silence, cold as stone,
Can also shatter—
And suffocate.
🧵
September 15, 2025 at 8:09 PM
Ash and Stone
by Jaci Turner
Some say the nation breaks with fire,
Some say with stone.
From what I’ve seen of rage’s pyre,
I stand with those who trust the fire.
But if it had to fracture twice,
I’ve heard enough of hate
To know that silence, cold as stone,
Can also shatter—
And suffocate.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
Some say the nation breaks with fire,
Some say with stone.
From what I’ve seen of rage’s pyre,
I stand with those who trust the fire.
But if it had to fracture twice,
I’ve heard enough of hate
To know that silence, cold as stone,
Can also shatter—
And suffocate.
🧵
The Quiet Arrival
by Jaci Turner
Before the first breath,
a knowing.
Before the first wound,
a light.
The soul arrives,
unarmored—
a wild, wordless truth
no hand can teach.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
Before the first breath,
a knowing.
Before the first wound,
a light.
The soul arrives,
unarmored—
a wild, wordless truth
no hand can teach.
🧵
September 14, 2025 at 12:38 AM
The Quiet Arrival
by Jaci Turner
Before the first breath,
a knowing.
Before the first wound,
a light.
The soul arrives,
unarmored—
a wild, wordless truth
no hand can teach.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
Before the first breath,
a knowing.
Before the first wound,
a light.
The soul arrives,
unarmored—
a wild, wordless truth
no hand can teach.
🧵
Words as Weapons
by Jaci Turner
We hurl them like stones—
Fascist. Radical. Socialist. Traitor.
Each syllable sharp,
each name a wound.
Each label meant
to close a door
instead of open a mind.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
We hurl them like stones—
Fascist. Radical. Socialist. Traitor.
Each syllable sharp,
each name a wound.
Each label meant
to close a door
instead of open a mind.
🧵
September 12, 2025 at 8:03 PM
Words as Weapons
by Jaci Turner
We hurl them like stones—
Fascist. Radical. Socialist. Traitor.
Each syllable sharp,
each name a wound.
Each label meant
to close a door
instead of open a mind.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
We hurl them like stones—
Fascist. Radical. Socialist. Traitor.
Each syllable sharp,
each name a wound.
Each label meant
to close a door
instead of open a mind.
🧵
What happened this week is not just the loss of a life. It’s the loss of something far greater — the idea that grief belongs to all of us, not just to the loudest voices or to those in political favor.
🧵
🧵
September 11, 2025 at 2:47 PM
What happened this week is not just the loss of a life. It’s the loss of something far greater — the idea that grief belongs to all of us, not just to the loudest voices or to those in political favor.
🧵
🧵
We Stand With You
by Jaci Turner
They fastened iron to your wrists,
metal biting into quiet skin,
and marched you past the walls
where your labor once hummed like morning.
The floor where machines still echo
now holds the ghost of your footsteps,
🧵
by Jaci Turner
They fastened iron to your wrists,
metal biting into quiet skin,
and marched you past the walls
where your labor once hummed like morning.
The floor where machines still echo
now holds the ghost of your footsteps,
🧵
September 10, 2025 at 3:07 PM
We Stand With You
by Jaci Turner
They fastened iron to your wrists,
metal biting into quiet skin,
and marched you past the walls
where your labor once hummed like morning.
The floor where machines still echo
now holds the ghost of your footsteps,
🧵
by Jaci Turner
They fastened iron to your wrists,
metal biting into quiet skin,
and marched you past the walls
where your labor once hummed like morning.
The floor where machines still echo
now holds the ghost of your footsteps,
🧵
Does the WH give her a list ahead of time of which lies she’s okay to ‘affirm’ as lies?
Reporter: "Mike Johnson came out and said that the president was an FBI informant. Do you know what he meant by that?"
Karoline Leavitt: "I can affirm that is not true."
🤡
Karoline Leavitt: "I can affirm that is not true."
🤡
September 9, 2025 at 7:21 PM
Does the WH give her a list ahead of time of which lies she’s okay to ‘affirm’ as lies?
They Didn’t Know
by Jaci Turner
They didn’t know the things I faced,
The silences I had to chase.
Their love was there, but not enough
To see when days grew dark or rough.
They married young, still searching too,
For who they were and what was true.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
They didn’t know the things I faced,
The silences I had to chase.
Their love was there, but not enough
To see when days grew dark or rough.
They married young, still searching too,
For who they were and what was true.
🧵
September 2, 2025 at 1:55 PM
They Didn’t Know
by Jaci Turner
They didn’t know the things I faced,
The silences I had to chase.
Their love was there, but not enough
To see when days grew dark or rough.
They married young, still searching too,
For who they were and what was true.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
They didn’t know the things I faced,
The silences I had to chase.
Their love was there, but not enough
To see when days grew dark or rough.
They married young, still searching too,
For who they were and what was true.
🧵
The Breach Within
by Jaci Turner
A covert name was cast away,
A recklessness that makes us pay.
What once was guarded, sealed, and sworn,
Is now betrayed, exposed, and torn.
The silence roars where voices hide,
When duty yields to party’s side.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
A covert name was cast away,
A recklessness that makes us pay.
What once was guarded, sealed, and sworn,
Is now betrayed, exposed, and torn.
The silence roars where voices hide,
When duty yields to party’s side.
🧵
August 29, 2025 at 12:10 AM
The Breach Within
by Jaci Turner
A covert name was cast away,
A recklessness that makes us pay.
What once was guarded, sealed, and sworn,
Is now betrayed, exposed, and torn.
The silence roars where voices hide,
When duty yields to party’s side.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
A covert name was cast away,
A recklessness that makes us pay.
What once was guarded, sealed, and sworn,
Is now betrayed, exposed, and torn.
The silence roars where voices hide,
When duty yields to party’s side.
🧵
No Whatabout Can Cover This
by Jaci Turner
They’ll shout of scandals, shift the blame,
And paint the other side with shame.
They’ll cry, “But look at what they’ve done!”
As if two wrongs make justice won.
Yet no misstep, nor past regret,
Can justify this looming threat.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
They’ll shout of scandals, shift the blame,
And paint the other side with shame.
They’ll cry, “But look at what they’ve done!”
As if two wrongs make justice won.
Yet no misstep, nor past regret,
Can justify this looming threat.
🧵
August 28, 2025 at 5:39 PM
No Whatabout Can Cover This
by Jaci Turner
They’ll shout of scandals, shift the blame,
And paint the other side with shame.
They’ll cry, “But look at what they’ve done!”
As if two wrongs make justice won.
Yet no misstep, nor past regret,
Can justify this looming threat.
🧵
by Jaci Turner
They’ll shout of scandals, shift the blame,
And paint the other side with shame.
They’ll cry, “But look at what they’ve done!”
As if two wrongs make justice won.
Yet no misstep, nor past regret,
Can justify this looming threat.
🧵
Not haste, but grace, is how they move,
reminding hearts what time can prove.
My first tortoise—gentle, grand,
a living lesson beneath my hand.
reminding hearts what time can prove.
My first tortoise—gentle, grand,
a living lesson beneath my hand.
August 28, 2025 at 1:47 AM
Not haste, but grace, is how they move,
reminding hearts what time can prove.
My first tortoise—gentle, grand,
a living lesson beneath my hand.
reminding hearts what time can prove.
My first tortoise—gentle, grand,
a living lesson beneath my hand.