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Mar 2018 · 597
Nostalgia, 3/4/15
Jenn Coke Mar 2018
Nostalgia--
Homesick and lovesick,
But neither homeless nor loveless.
Jenn Coke Dec 2017
Love has some wonderful properties.

It makes you something you're not. It makes you sane and insane. It makes you humane and inhumane. It makes you sighted and blind. It makes you overly rational or illogical. It makes you somewhat childish when nothing matters. It makes you extra jealous when there's nothing.

It makes you do things you don't do. It makes you prosecute and judge your defendant, or it makes you defend your lover. Perhaps the other way around. It makes you commit ******. It makes you commit suicide. It offers you identity crisis to a certain extent, but also enough motivation, will, and power to ****, just a little, somehow.

Who am I? Who am I, now? Who was I? And, who are you? Whose side are you on?

On that note, all it would take is but a feeble breeze to knock me off the edge so that I fall into endless tar. I shall sink, effortlessly, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, as the thick, obscure liquid engulfs and swallows my entire being, slowly and gently, until I'm out of breath, and perfectly erased from this world without a trace of ever having lived.
I'm already ignored and forgotten by my own lover, overshadowed by his older female cousin anyway. I don't matter. I was just temporary. I've always been alone. It seems...
Jenn Coke Nov 2017
I was happy
Before she intruded.
She was probably happy
Before I intruded.

I hoped
They wouldn't commit ******.
She probably hopes
We wouldn't commit to a relationship.

I wished
To separate them.
She probably wishes
To separate us.

I wanted her
Out of the picture.
She probably wants me
Out of the picture.

Then, would all
Return to normal
If she left?
No, all would probably
Return to normal
If I left.
...Even though I'm his true girlfriend
And she's his older female cousin.
Mar 2017 · 706
Conversation, 3/9/15
Jenn Coke Mar 2017
Conversation.
That's how it starts,
Doesn't it, a relationship,
And that's why it ends,
When there is none.
Jenn Coke Mar 2017
I'm letting the past rest in peace.
I won't try to repair it anymore.

That which has been broken
Can never be perfectly flawless
Ever again anyway.

He was simply a visitor who
Came through the door of my life,
Peeked into the room of my heart,
And then abandoned both.

A part of me only hopes that,
Although now complete strangers,
He will remember the shelter
He once considered home.
Jenn Coke Jan 2017
On New Year’s Eve, 2015,
I cheerily wrote you,
From the other side of the world:

“’Tomorrow is –
The first blank page
Of a 365-page book.’
Let’s make it meaningful!”

On New Year’s Eve, 2016,
I wholeheartedly write you,
From the same state:

“Thank you for joining –
The same cast,
In the same reality,
On the same paper;

Thank you for living –
The same words,
On the same page,
In the same chapter;

Thank you for wanting –
The same things,
With the same pace,
In the same manner;

Thank you for sharing –
The same story,
With the same close,
In the same series.”
For he who is never too far ahead of or too far behind me, and never too forward or too backward with me.
Oct 2016 · 660
Untitled, 5/18/14
Jenn Coke Oct 2016
The river flows one way;
Once you're across the Styx,
You cannot turn around.

Up ahead, death awaits.
Behind, life aggrieves.
Yet, all but one choice exists.

Despite the past, move forward,
However dark the path is.
Leave what was to what will be.
Oct 2016 · 826
Loving Across Zones, 9/6/16
Jenn Coke Oct 2016
From Hong Kong
To New Jersey,
What used to be
Different time,
Different space,
Same world,
Has now become
Montreal
To New Jersey--
Same time,
Same space,
Different world.
Byebyes are hard. But distant affection and loving from afar makes you feel some extraordinary things. Teaches you to overcome obstacles and grow together. Helps you learn and realize some valuable things.
Jun 2016 · 3.5k
He Is My “Mate”
Jenn Coke Jun 2016
He was never my classmate,
Neither was he my schoolmate,
As we have met on OkCupid,
Which is where we got suited.

He soon became my tablemate,
Then got promoted to bedmate,
Ranging from late-night nosh
To some naughty oh-my-gosh.

He was my almost-roommate,
Now, a hopeful housemate,
Since he would visit me daily
And keep me company gaily.

He was frequently my seatmate,
As well as invaluable playmate,
For we traveled places together
And cloyingly wrestled each other.

He has always been my helpmate,
And is presently my best teammate,
As he has cheered me up from afar,
As we chat as if there is no au revoir.

He will one day become my inmate,
Plus my hard-working workmate,
Since we will both have mini-me’s
Forcing us to slog away on our knees.

He is undoubtedly my soulmate,
One who is to become my lifemate,
For he is a romantic yet **** geek,
A keeper with charms all too unique.
Jun 2016 · 2.8k
"How Much Do I Love You?"
Jenn Coke Jun 2016
As a romantic, out of the blue,
Dear Lover, I simply wanted to say…

The history behind each of my words does not define,
The formation of my sentences does not refine –

The number of poems I write does not demonstrate,
The amount of text I compose does not illustrate –

The extent of my love for you,
Which extends well beyond the Milky Way.
"How much do you love me?" is a common question that is easy and yet difficult to answer. Maybe there is no right answer to it. After all, love is indefinable and unquantifiable.
Jenn Coke Jun 2016
(BACKGROUND)

Some insight into my life,
By academic "stage" and country:

British Kindergarten in England,
Swiss Elementary in Switzerland,
International MS in England,
French HS, then Int'l HS in Korea,
Undergraduate Studies in NJ, USA,
(3 month-residence in Korea),
(8-month residence in Hong Kong),
Graduate studies in QC, Canada.

--------------------------------------------------------­----

I have shattered my identity.
Frequently. Involuntarily.

I have undergone assimilation.
Socially. Psychologically.

I have encountered discrimination.
Directly. Racially.

I have endured isolation.
Grievingly. Impotently.

I have ill-wished on others.
Subconsciously. Unintentionally.

HOWEVER –

I have learned to be human.
Individually. Collectively.

I have discovered empathy.
Emotionally. Compassionately.

I have gained knowledge.
Culturally. Geographically.

I have acquired expertise.
Intellectually. Linguistically.

I have become a citizen.
Locally. Globally.

Perhaps we who are born and meant to move,
Are intended to, and exist to locomote forever,
Walking lands, sailing oceans, mastering the world.
I am currently preparing my move to Montréal and, having moved around internationally so many times, for as long as I can remember, I reflected on the "formation" of "me." A good drifting experience, I must conclude.
Jenn Coke May 2016
He gives me a premature ventricular contraction –
Simply referring to inefficient blood circulation –
Causing my heart to skip a beat on every occasion.

Ever so often thereafter, he performs a cardiectomy –
In other words, a surgical removal of the heart – on me
Through which my precious heart is stolen by my Timmy.

I still experience dyspnea – difficulty in breathing –
And my breath is taken away by he who is my Spring,
My one and only significant other and my everything.
Another attempt at playing around with love and science.
Jenn Coke May 2016
Drug; he controls my brain.
He stirs an irresistible blend of chemicals in my body and convinces me to fall for him; he increases blood flow to the primitive areas of my brain and activates the circuits responsible for love and desire.

Adrenaline; he balances my stress.
He keeps my heart strong and healthy as thoughts of him and us dominate me and excite me, prompting me to get tachycardia (fast heart rate above 100 bpm) and my blood pressure to rise.

Dopamine; he regulates my focus.
He stimulates desire and triggers pleasure in me; I remember everything about us, then forget about my surroundings; I am motivated to please him, then I daydream and become unable to stay on task.

Serotonin; he stabilizes my mood.
He charms and induces me to perspire and relax, crave and distance him, lose and gain sleep, feel pain and relief, get happy and upset, and decrease and increase my immune system functions.

Medication; he forces my loveswept cells to go haywire.
He has cured my lovesickness, shooed away my regrets, helped me move on from my past, boosted my (self-)confidence, made me look forward to tomorrow, and offered me a ticket to bliss.

Oxytocin; he enables me to produce lovestruck hormones.
He affects my moral molecules as he attracts my undivided attention, pushes me to trust him, raises attachment and empathy, brings psychological stability, and encourages me to want to be closer to him.

Vasopressin; he causes me to secrete lovetastic chemicals.
He renders me monogamous and continues to have me hooked onto him; he makes me thirst for him, display amorous behavior, defend him and us, and maintain a strong partnership.
Attempt at playing around with love and science.
Apr 2016 · 816
#10. Untitled, 4/10/16.
Jenn Coke Apr 2016
Why am I told that I can do BETTER,
When I have found my BEST in him?

I do not sense doubt or uncertainties
Nor do I feel dissatisfaction with us.

Why should I look FURTHER AHEAD,
When he is my FINAL DESTINATION?

I do not see him as one of the stops
On my way to yet another station.

Why would I pointlessly GIVE UP,
When all I want is to HOLD ON?

I do not need to dismiss and destroy
A base without a hazardous cause.



I have had much experience with buses;
Seen numerous fancy and attractive ones,
Ridden some wrong and dangerous ones,
Avoided a handful of fake and nasty ones,
Missed a few potentially comfortable ones.

Now, if you miss the bus, you stand under the roof
And wait, because another one will surely pass by;
However, if you get up and search, you will find a cab
And you can move fast, slow, directly, or indirectly.
(Time may or may not be a reverent factor.)



As for me, I had quit searching
But I was not waiting either;
Then, a limousine carrying a man
Who had as much bus experience
Arrived and asked for directions.

Today, twelve months later,
We are each other’s BETTER halves,
Heading for the same DESTINATION,
Somehow knowing how to HOLD ON,
Across vast lands and oceans.



The destination is important, without question;
But the journey is equally, if not more, important.
Just because many doubt long distance relationships.
And because I thought of a weird metaphor to find love.
Jenn Coke Feb 2016
Its length is known as “one year” by realists,
Also referred to as “anniversary” by idealists,
But “four seasons” is how I would like to call it
As with the passing of time I learn him bit by bit.

We met in front of Record Hall
On a rainy night and boy did I fall
For this one man named Timothy
Who approached me differently.

We first found each other online
But he was unlike the other swine
Looking for a body and easy ***,
Trying to buy me with their checks.

Plus, he did not follow the ordinary formula
Like “coffee sometime?” which is just so blah;
Rather, he proved that he had read my profile
Attentively, so I imagined he must not be vile.

He did not mention or imply anything ******,
So I started to credit him some trust accrual;
He opened us up by relating to my stories
And spoke smoothly with sarcastic ease.

I fell for his chivalry and charm
As well as his unstinted smarm,
His passion for engines and parts,
Never giving up until it all starts.

He won me over with his corny memes,
Matching weirdness, and future schemes;
His unfaltering boldness and fearlessness,
Manliness, and, in due course, closeness.

A spontaneous boy who does puzzles with me,
A romantic gentleman who invites me to the sea,
A free-spirited dude who is a spirits connoisseur,
An audacious chap who is a cooking amateur –

He has a nerdy side as he likes to figure things out.
He has a masculine side as he enjoys working out.
He has a brave side as he goes off-roading in his Jeep.
He has a sweet side as he pulls me closer in his sleep.

He slyly squeezes out my personal info
From myself and makes me go “Woah,”
As he discreetly plans adventurous trips
Which makes me want to ****** his lips.  

He is not afraid or disinclined to reveal his worries.
He is not abashed to update me on his **** stories.
He was not nervous about exposing his cover letter.
He was not anxious about taking me to his mother.

Weight? He does not ask me to gain any or lose.
Change? He needs not fix or loosen my screws.
He takes me as I am, not as a mechanical robot.
He finds sufficiency in all that I do and have got.

He does not care that I wear makeup or look like a dude.
He does not complain that I take long to finish my food.
He disregards that I do not adhere to societal standards.
He discounts that I occasionally think and act backwards.

He makes me relax and loosen up in his presence;
He emits a homely atmosphere and is my defense.  
Hell, we even start doing ***** lovey-dovey acts
Such as calling each other’s names in several packs.

He uses his witty senses to title my works,
Which, to other people, may stir up smirks,
But he does not give two ***** about them;
As long as we represent to each other, a gem.

We are compatible and agree in many manners;
We are avid Android users, not iOS supporters,
We take pleasure in dallying under the covers,
We enjoy mysteries and psychological thrillers.

We follow a handful of seasonal anime together
And we tend to swiftly marathon them altogether.
We even have our own convenient organization
In times when we watch anime together in elation.

He asks, “wanna watch” when there is an update
And picks a title; I agree and say “ready” and wait;
He says “go,” I thumb him, we watch simultaneously;
Then, whoever finishes first sends a thumb amiably.

He tries to pass time with me after work so demanding
So he sometimes falls asleep and leaves me hanging.
However, he impresses me in still choosing to be dutiful
All the while exhibiting humanness, which is beautiful.

I am pleased that we have similar likes and interests,
Glad that both tally with “real love will stand any tests,”
Blessed that both are open to expressing affection,
Thankful that we are looking in the same direction.

Even apart, I admire his strong patience,
Extending over many hours and nations!
Oh, I almost forgot – he is also tall and fit;
The more I think, he has it all – you name it!

The list of what I love about him keeps growing,
With things to cherish constantly overflowing;
I cannot expect more or imagine anyone better,
So I find myself dedicating to him this love letter.

Gosh, how I miss our sessions of wine and cheese,
Cinematic baths and interlacing, candlelit bodies,
Our woolgathering moaning and perspiring mess,
Many nameless moments and silent togetherness!

April 6, 2015, on OkCupid, he gave me a look;
April 11, 2015, he “friended” me on Facebook;
April 15, 2015, he suggested meeting up to study;
April 18, 2015, he dated me and became cuddly.

All this from last year… one year forward, today,
We are still together and have not gone astray –
As long-term and long-distance partners, we are
In the hardest, yet happiest, relationship by far!
I miss him, my other half, my home, very dearly.
I am thankful for his being, loving, and waiting for me.
Feb 2016 · 1.0k
#8. Untitled, 1/18/16.
Jenn Coke Feb 2016
Distance means nothing when there is a way:
Highways, waterways, and airways tying us.

If there is road, I will take it.
If there is a fence, I will climb over it.
Whatever obstacle, I will brave it.

Nothing is stopping us, so why hold back?

Distance is nothing when we are connected:
Communication flowing between us.

Mountains of messages over a bad network.
Stacks of exchanged pictures via unstable Wi-Fi.
Piles of shared links in low connectivity.

Nothing is impossible, so why surrender?

Distance is nothing when we feel and value:
The joy in our hearts over the absence of our bodies.

My chest grows florets when you say hi.
My heartstrings intertwine when you video call.
My mind dances when we watch together.

Nothing is lacking, so why forsake?

After all, it is distance that unites us.
And that is a beautiful oxymoron.
Jenn Coke Feb 2016
I miss you, I want to see you. But not because it’s “couple season” – not because it’s cold and gloomy and city lights explode with hands conjoined. You are worth more than the missed holidays, more than the occasions spent without us being in the company of one another: Hallowe'en, my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, probably your birthday, too, as well as Valentine’s, and our anniversary.

On these specially marked days, I feel a certain emptiness as you, my beloved other half, is not present with me, yet that which is not emptiness, for you still fill my heart plenty. In these times, I feel envy as lovers are so obviously visible everywhere, yet that which is not envy, for they are not you. I may suffer from your absence but I don’t suffer from jealousy. See, I love you, this one man who cannot compare to the likes of any other, this one man who strangely loves me back, this one man who’s mine and to whom I’m his.

You are so very special to me and you mean a lot to me. I love you, I lurve you, I lava you, ILY (code), I <3 U (symbols), je t'aime, saranghae (Korean) – I want to say it a gazillion times and it wouldn’t be enough, and yet I don’t want to say it because it’s only an ensemble of words, an expression that is just too common, overused, cliché and weak, whose (level of) meaning doesn’t remain constant. Perhaps I could keep coining new ones, but then again I don’t want to be simply, mindlessly uttering or writing them like so, as if out of habit.

I want this so-called “love” to be conveyed in such a way that – a tap on the shoulder, a  homemade dinner and handcrafted gifts, a random drive, a silent gaze, a goodbye hug and a goodnight kiss, my sleep-mumbling in your ear and your snoring on my nape, and the sharing of clothes – would melt our heart and let us fall a little deeper, therein meaning exponentially more than a mere, verbal, three-worded clause, “I love you.” That’s the kind of love I want us to be… partaking in.

Today, eight months later, (although I am still thirteen hours ahead, still 8,070 miles East, and still not in your arms…) at the last stroke of the small hand, we both wave and bid farewell to 2015 and welcome and gaze at 2016.

I’m thankful that love found us, I’m glad that we followed, and I’m happy that our relationship remains in the present.

May the new year be full of goodness!
Another special day spent without my love. New Year's Eve from different ends of the world.
Jan 2016 · 623
#6. Blessed, 12/7/15.
Jenn Coke Jan 2016
Many call it a curse
That my dearest boyfriend
In all the universe
Lives on Earth’s other end:

East of the Moon –
Half a world away,
Many factors inopportune,
Yet our love will not decay;

West of the sun –
Half a day behind,
Still we will not let anyone
Pollute our resolute mind;

All that distance?
Can be traversed.
All that time difference?
Can be reversed.
Inspired by "East of the Sun and West of the Moon," a Norwegian folk story.
Jenn Coke Jan 2016
Thanksgiving Day,
The day of the giving of thanks.
Also known as a public holiday,
When everyone gets together.

Yet, it is unfair that,
Like everyone else,
Her eyes cannot meet his,
His arms cannot hold her,
They cannot dine in laughter,
Across 8,000 miles on such day.

Still, on this day,
She is thankful –
Thankful for who he is,
Thankful for who he is not,
Thankful for what they are,
Thankful for what they are not,
Thankful that they still ARE.

For now,
They cannot spend
Even a single hour of the day
In one another’s company.
But, she looks beyond
What cannot be shared today.

For one day,
They will leap across time
And all the miles in between
To land in each other’s arms
For many Thanksgivings to come.

Hasty groceries,
Annoying prepping,
Crowded kitchen,
Noisy children,
Frustrated guests,
Fattening bellies,
Drunken dance,
Disorderly house,
Sleepy mumbling –
WE will get to all of that.
Jan 2016 · 1.3k
#4. Literature, 11/16/15.
Jenn Coke Jan 2016
Written by me,
Written to you,
Written for us –

I am your poetess,
You are my poem,
We are living poetry.

I am your pen,
You are my words,
We are an incomplete manuscript.

I am your ink,
You are my pages,
We are an unfinished book.

I am your vessel,
You are my essence,
We are an ongoing story.

I will not stop writing,
You will not stop inspiring,
We will not stop creating –
Jenn Coke Jan 2016
Early morning anime,
Late night phone calls;

The touch of your voice in my ears,
The sound of you listening to me;

Timeless messages,
Occasional video chats;

The receipt of delightful what you doings,
The exchange of random rants;

Sleeping when the other sleeps,
Eating when the other eats;

Virtual hugs,
Imaginary kisses;

Long goodbyes,
Sad see you soons;

It’s love.
Jan 2016 · 578
#2. Rotation, 9/18/15.
Jenn Coke Jan 2016
Just like the sun and moon take turns,
Just like the skies turn light and dark –

Just like Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall ensue,
Just like the world feels snow, rain, sunshine, and fog –

Just like the living bloom and wither,
Just like everything comes and goes –

There is a time for everything;
There will be a time for you and I.
Jan 2016 · 701
#1. East to West, 8/19/15.
Jenn Coke Jan 2016
Thirty days have passed us by,                                                            
Merely, yet swiftly;
Although we live not nearby,
Half a world apart,
Our love is not on standby,
Since one day further
From our goodbye in July,
Is one day closer
To the day to you I fly.

— The End —