Jae Elle: Favorites

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

Kiagen McGinnis

you & i get along because we can eat tirimisu and sip coffee sans words

convinced:

talking is wildly subpar. touch is greater than a vibration of a vocal cord.

but if you must;

scream it to the sea.

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

come marching in

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

Overwhelmed

come marching in

spring arrived today in a green convertible
with the top down

he smiled, behind his sunglasses,
looking refreshed,
at ease,
and he asked how my
winter was

good, I said,
barely even felt like it
to be honest

“good, good.”
spring said, still smiling

and we stood there.

I, baking under the fresh sun,
he baking too, but somehow
seeming not to mind,
seeming to like it,
be empowered
by it

spring took a deep breath
and smiled even wider once
he closed his lips

“well, old friend”
he said,
“I’ll be seeing you,
I’m headed to the beach,
or maybe into the woods,
I dunno.”

“but I’ll see you
there”

and he drove off

his green convertible buzzing happily
towards the edge of a new and beautiful
world

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

we beasts

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

BB Tyler

we beasts

we beasts
meeting in streets
weave like streams to the sea

a great happening!
an outward wave of motion
like the expanding chest of a giant
sighs
and stirs the current with gusto,
the turbulence is rapture in ecstasy,
breathing like trees through their leaves,
we beasts,
set free.

creeping uncertainty
as the circle slows
in a yawned moment
or a sneeze.
and the breeze is
stiff,
fixed with fits of static bits,
until the ellipse is realized,
and the giant sighs,
and the wheel flies!

look to the skies!
the heart is beating!
close now your eyes,
the this is fleeting,
as we beasts,
meeting in streets,
weave like streams to the sea.

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

For want of being caught

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

Emma

For want of being caught

he said what do you feel when the wind blows
eyes out like the sun, back bent straight
coffee dripping in corners like moons in the nighttime

all I want is wine and poetry,
but especially wine
I said
thinking of kissing fingertips
and fingertips in my hair
and learning how to breathe

you get rusty, with the wind
I'm rusting in the wind
Even my fingers
breaking off and becoming dust
in the wind

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

Untitled

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

JL

Untitled

Alive
I don't understand how I can hear this voice
My own is real and human
Whispering from the dreams
Of real human thinking
Whispering
Writting
I just wish some golden dream of clouds beating through the heat orange skys
Surrounded by the darkest blue
I finally understand
These words I write
Because the futures I don't believe
Slow down slow down. Slow down
The sound is like wind that screams through everything
Like twisting birds in your eye
Between branches
Between soil
Cold
I speak these words
Real for an instant, lost forever

****. ****** angel ******* like red screams on the nightdresses. Rutheless youth and tails and dreams I hunted on the tooth. The bible tells me when I get to heaven how I have used every word judging them all for an instant for they're written in a book. All these words created deep in a pitch black dark forest over a like where fireflies meet and reflect and are counted in some book on their number of glows and a book written bloomed flower. Stop sign

*******
I don't understand
Why I keep coming back
Why is it that I was born and lost in a sea
Washed up on shores
Searching valleys in non existent lands
With a machete to cut through the dark
Why is my mind so silent
Here
Where death and fire and loss so near
When will I understand
That I am a fool for wanting water
When all is turned to wine

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

The limit does not exist

Mar 2012 Jae Elle

Emma

The limit does not exist

Catching my reflection in the mirror, I noticed that I look beautiful today.
I look like still sadness, or slight grief, or a breeze through eucalyptus trees.
I smell like the sea.

I feel like a storm, or like the shore freshly pummeled by waves.

My skin is peaches. My skin is rain. My eyes are rain.

I want it to rain so that I can cry and belong. The sadness never stops with talking.
I'm talking all the time now
tying myself into knots and hanging my brain to dry when the clouds die

I'd like to slap you.
If only anger could boil over and burn our eyes and make us all forget
I would callous over my burns and it wouldn't matter anymore
Layers of burnt skin

I'm like an orange, I think. I'm easy to peel
and easy to eat away piece by piece