All that really matters is You and I
Our hearts juxtaposed
flutter and fly high

I call once and you say
My beloved, on this day...

Our moons have crash-landed
amongst billions of burning stars
Can we leave this galaxy
to discover the truth of who we are?


Jennifer Alé

Inquiring sons of daughters,
Equipt
Of a day, one day,
The unmalleable grounds
Of Untanga gardens
Will beget,
By far Richer.
Than today


Down to their own sons
Of a day, one day
Our land,
Agleam in lights of progress.
Surging nights
Bedeviled by the buzz of utopian youth

They, then also
Down to their sons
Of a day, one day
So on
And on...

Wisdom carved in stone
is lost / what we know we know
under an accumulation of moss

"An angel,"
I wept,
Seeing through bloodshot eyes,
"My angel!",
I cried with a sigh.

But my love,
In a world
Where humanity bleeds,
Sins do not skip you and I.

Is there an edge of forever
the virtuoso about to reclaim
the leap we try to endeavour
and ceaselessly try to aim.

I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night

I am devoured by the existence of
vintage and old fashioned crafts.
The old scents and faded letters
that will bring back a decade of dates
until I throw myself back in the history.



I savored the aroma of an old book
until I became one of its pages
While the classic cd and mixed tapes
will play a nostalgic feeling.



I am allowing myself
to be allured by the history
with its treasured memories
that will haunt you in your youth.


Years have past
but we are still here,
we are still alive
despite of the countless departures.  
Relish the taste of life while it lasts
and while you are still able.


Live, love.

If I were a poem
I'd be made of words
That only you'd understand.

When she fell
she could feel
the light, its warmth
its happiness
and its stability
she blinked
and she was
plunged into darkness
a darkness that
drowned her
a darkness that
was a struggle
consuming her life

Not everything needs a poem
Sometimes
it’s already

good enough.

Monsters
They’re scary
Some are in the closet
Some are under the bed
But you want to know a secret
The scariest monsters
Are in our heads

Goodbye Poetry

Red were the roses, the ones I left on your casket,
Orange were the leaves, the ones in your tree,
Yellow were the bruises, the ones that covered you head-to-toe,
Green were the stains, the ones left on the hems of your jeans,
Blue were your lips, the day you were found in your noose,
Indigo was the night sky, that night that you died,
Violet was that bruise, the one you wore around your neck

The light of day today
is so heavy and dream-like
Makes me feel hazy,
sweetly lazy
has a weird effect in me
It makes me feel good and wrong
funny ways that I've got

It speaks about you and me
hidden in a room, naked, nothing at all
but us. And I want to be there, I do.
Watching the world drip, in our burning embrace.
The rain washes my pain away.

It speaks about the despair I felt at 15
or maybe before even
and how the rain lifted the weight
with its oppressive pretty greys
The rain washes my pain away.

The rain lulls me into your arms
it promises a Sun.
The rain pushes me places
everything I am
or everything I've been?

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

A sweet sense of magic,
Is hidden in his hand.
A teardrop of green,
Hidden in the gaze towards his land.

A funny thing about forever..
--it never, ever ends..

and so   neither will we.

The spirit is free from
all of this-- it will  always
remain lit..

only the flesh goes dark  
as we  leave  its earth-laden husk, behind..

But the core-heart of Love's true ache  will always,
always Remain.

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

to read my past journal entries is
to walk on an intimately familiar path,
one in which I know the major landmarks,
the steep mountains, and the deep valleys.

even though I can walk on this path
with my eyes closed and get through,
I don't. I slow down on the way,
noticing flowers I didn't see before.

I pluck a leaf off every flower stem,
and keep it safely between my palms.
the leaves remind me of the flowers
that grew despite the harsh conditions.

whenever I wish for a new beginning,
I blow on a leaf and let it guide me.
I smile, exhale, and walk forward.
behind me, new flowers are blooming.

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

Is a poet still a poet
If they do not write?

A journal gathering dust,
But a yearning to write.
Am I still a poet
Without my inner light?

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

“Social media is taking over our lives,”
she tweeted angrily.

I never told a lie to you
that I love you
I told a lie to myself
that you love me..

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

If words were your dress
then I'd be a king,
sinking in your dazzling brilliance
as people came to look
and ponder
over what you just
said

There is no better teacher than pain.
No better coach than sorrow.
As long as you make it through
'til tomorrow.

that is true
harry*
we know
nothing

he would
have
liked
sham

jimmy sang
hurry up
were

going
down
the
pub..