say you need me like lepers need miracles
like houses need foundations
say you could not live without me here,
brushing your hair out of your eyes, telling you
a song I love or a stupid joke I make up
because I know I need you, for life
I will be your miracle worker and solid ground
just tell me that you want me to

-c.j.

Morals clung to me and nipped at my shoulders more than I held onto them
Perhaps what is good and what is bad is undefined, at least in my little mind
He told me a bible on the ground was bad luck, and I laughed and squinted at pretend omens
Do you believe that, I asked when he muttered, in the beginning god created the heavens and the earth
I don't know, he said, and we knew that we both didn't particularly want to

-cj

it's calm here without the metropolitan storm
the momentum has exited that tracks my steps
it's silent, too- give me this holy place
that the minutes you carry torches for aren't jilted
what's misplaced is here, it's wired, it perceives
I can't endure, I can't sleep
I did endure in a city's centre

-c.j.

this poem is not about angels nor demons,
but humans and their faulty stars
how they sleep with a pile of words
on their head,
which gets tossed to the floor when
the alarm clock screams six
how they seek refuge in an arcade,
playing each game to the end,
leaving empty-pocketed
how they think, I can't rest until we
start to kiss
when lips only beg for more upon meeting
so yes, this poem is not about gods nor devils,
but people, breathing, heartbeating people
who sleep and play and wonder
when it will cease

-c.j.

open your eyes, sense the sky rise
return to the origin now
if all I can ever do
is write of a select few
may the winds blow us back
to rescuing ourselves
it's a neverland
promises of youth were shattered
anyway, now we know
and I've got alot to show for it

-c.j.

Drive all night, only pause when there's a light
Look to your right and the blaze from their being is gorgeous and blinding
It's fun and it's games, except in here where the magnet force pushes our bodies apart
Lick the skin and tear into crimson fruit
Until eventually,  there's nothing to dispute

-cj

"Love is the everchanging spectrum of a lie"
It's a house, it's a façade
Turn up the volume to its maximum
Trees whisper clichés to me
It's a November sort of sorrow
Between a birthday and an anniversary of falling
(Temperature plummets as wishes suffocate)

-cj

it was fall yet I dreamt of february air
and the waters of march
I wanted to play it right, become an animal,
obey the generals and run a marathon in roses, a garden race
before the cafe is a cathedral,
where midnight starts a waltz, hints at more modern times
the times that hold bedroom eyes, every holiday, birthday, funeral, every beat, city, every kind of splendour
that sends our hearts running wild
the times that hold such strangeness and charm, fiction,
even pigeons, even demons
I wanted to cling to the bravado; be no one's girlfriend; in a coma for six weeks; see science and visions and multiplication like a movie script, ending
I wanted to decorate each plain verse, make the grey into pink, tessellate the shapes of its inherent hearts and knives

it was fall and you asked if like empty bottles, we float
if I would change my name to ingrid
if all our weekends could echo of pleasure sighs
I wanted to embrace the atlantic, climb to new heights,
come awake

but could a schoolboy help me do these things?
could he lay beside me in the snow and call it paradise?
would he make me stare into mirrors all night,
waiting by the phone? would he make me feel like I was nothing ordinary?

-c.j.

Storytelling has always been hard
It's a difficult undertaking for me
Are they even listening? And is this fact or fiction?
I don't remember

-cj

my hands are diminutive
yours, stately
your strong hand, your left, can shift mountains
(in dreams)
diminutively, I am gathering stories, one by one,
I am building my own kingdom
knots of my bookmarks are in open basements,
open systems, getting another injection done

daringly, you motion the seas to come
loathe your home, soak your dead
ancestor's heirlooms
my head aches, darling, yet soon you shall have
your life changing sequence, making it difficult
for me to draw (aliens giving some often-buried opulences in a breaking mug)
oh, **** the nerves in my small hands
yours do the work, I say, diminutively
but you turn to me and say
you are the work

-c.j.

Belonging is a scary concept
I'd rather unassimilate
and become a member of
a different species
Maybe change my name and
change my face
It's really a scary idea,
Finding refuge with other people-
I'd rather not

-cj

does the speed of sound and that of light
ever resonate in unison?
thunder and lightning bolt coincidences?
as this pen runs out I lose my mind and know
I started something I couldn't finish
sound, light, parallel or not in speed
a phenomenon under naïve speculation
until poetic justice arrives or the teacher
speaks science to me in harsh monotonous rote
does it matter if I know? knowledge- isn't that power?
power is not knowledge, however, and the voltage
of the skies won't quit until I have an answer

-c.j.

Now everything is then: the black and white and scuffly soundtrack of it all, showcased between the rich curtains
The smiles, are they real? And all these people, do they feel? They dance and drink and their dreams are in their very hands
Still, the sad violin reality cascades on the scene, wrecking the chandelier beauty of it, leaving a single glass behind, with only a few drops left

-cj

She is bad, sleeping with the enemy one night, the friend, the next
Never to feel the nausea of eating too willingly, secretly
Beauty is a sin
Luckily her whispers are covered by the sheets of the witnesses
Moaning and cared for, the mirror is a mere extra character

-cj

Her mind and mouth reveal:
It was he who threw the rocks,
It was he who initiated our little balcony scene,
It was he who changed my eyes from
blind to seeing

-c.j.

away, elsewhere, the silhouettes reel
I remember only what people say to me
so dash downtempo, everyone
so dash downtempo across the facts

our channels are made in another era
an unlocked corridor of collapsing symbols
suspicion, but my own
don't be the wolf that entices
soothes my wooded chorus
don't be the wolf that bites with strangers' teeth

in between rain and warmth and torrents and hail
no winter or summer to where my affections reside
but perhaps it isn't right yet
but perhaps it wasn't right for them to rip you up inside

nothing can fool a trembling symbol
suspicion, but my own
just let me rest in that perfect room again
we'll breathe together again

there could be better odds,
but I remember that omens
creep in and reign
don't be the "ever after"
another ****** beautiful hypnosis

-c.j.

Everything's different and yet the air is still too quick and my head continues to spin
Becoming, freedom
My relentless ambitions
Yet becoming free was the last thing I'd ever be

-cj

When something isn't right
it's all wrong
A ruthless rubik's cube effect
and the fear manifests itself
in waves
Those culprits that mount
and eventually subside
But some of it
never goes with the rest
It gets under your skin
and ultimately
your body will defy you
The hysteria batters you
from the inside out
And it's all to blame on
that one wrong thing

-cj

I am staring at the bottom of this well
there is nothing to tell
I am sure of that as hell
I am staring so hard my eyes start to hurt
my bones are shaking and my case is breaking
what I really wonder is
are you convinced that this is all I'll ever be
are you convinced
are you
don't take me down
don't say it's off
don't be convinced

-c.j.

The sky mocked yesterday with its pastels, holding back the stories of the heavens and hells only right behind the blue and the frothy clouds

-cj

he sings dashboard confessional to me,
strumming his guitar and looking at me with those knowing eyes
yet they still ****, they still have much to see about me
I always wear blue

-c.j.

and the suburban war begins with blood
because we were raised by wolves
there are no cardinal rules
just keep watch while your friends sleep
and succumb to the inevitability of
a heartless empire, yet again
fight outside the windows, we are trying to
keep the houses holy
we have never said anything about the insides
of us, though, and blood still spills

-c.j.

Can't believe the time has come to give the sun a long-awaited goodbye
Glints as lovely as her telling guilty truths,
Calmer habits to tame

-cj

While father comdemns socialism
and mother thinks I am doing fine
I lay awake like the pattern goes
Rewinding my lies
and rubbing the truth out of my memory
until all I know
is the need

-cj

she descends the stairs
and he remains on the landing
both linger, telepathetic moments
written on that invisible wall
with intimate totals of wonder
militant, the outside try to terrify,
to augment the doubt
lengthen the halves- but
all superstition dies in that second

-c.j.

If I ever wrote a novel
I'd dedicate it to the person
who snuck into my brain
as I slept
Convincing me that this is not
a hobby, not a chore, not
leisure, nor fun
Telling me that once I think
I've finished
It's only just begun

-cj

I the inevitable longing for touch,
  the presence,  the skin
  the voice of the one
  who had to leave
  despite the logic and honesty
  and dedication to what is best
  these embers cannot be extinguished,
  no matter how hard you try
  to smother them

II inside the confining walls of the car,
    the engine running, heart pounding, and
    lips eager for a match in motion
    pretending that this won't affect
    anything, it won't carry over to
    tomorrow, to next week, till the
    next month

III chemicals in synchronisation with
     desires, but matter defies you, and
     you keep trying though it makes
     you feel utterly hopeless

IV wanting that againagainagain
     retrospect,
     alleyways,
     speeding down that common street

V abandon these worries of breaking
   and just delve into your true desire
   headfirst
   we stand in the woods alone-
   you tell me it cannot happen,
   my eyes beg you to change your mind
   each trying to make the other see our
   theory when all we both need is love

-cj

x's and o's
kiss me on the nose
lines, parallel and sound
make my eyes grow big
and round
stitched in ****** sequence
our segments overlap
something harmonious

-c.j.

you're full of dread, I'm full of wonder
we use our veins as portals, resembling
blue shades of happenstance

back then they were hues of black,
fierce antimatter
now I'm shuffling my cards to
surprise myself

-c.j.

the avenue cracks the night
my interior is divided
this is our history
I mean to renounce it here

the ledges unfold to graze your skin
the mortar swirls to flood, escape
but I can imagine us here, without the panic

I long to uncover those volumes
forage your countenance, torture us
you're a mere drizzle to someone parched
a drizzle to the arid and the parched

because all of us abandon bravery's crowd
but I'll forever be bravery's progeny
the history I'll blur
I mean to renounce it here

you claim you have your chance again
but you can't and the caution begins now
what's in between the lines?
it grieves you yet you can't absorb the holes
we're a tetra-band on a rosary
so decline the impending ruin
I'll be your compass, I'll be your sight

I'll send the last jab in the ribs
and I refuse to be with you in this state
breathing in the center, oblivious exterior
wanting it to be a feigned violence
comfortable with a deity's aura
turned away, take up a different persona

-c.j.

everything you love, led by their magic
surrounding them, security kept
wind your selfish limbs through it all

coast, don't strive to drive, just coast
you can be the absolute with the trigger
to a shattered heart
because you know I am restless,
I've been hunted down before
the sinking metronome returns, afloat
it doesn't tick anymore

did the child only receive demands
from his own voice?
did the earth spin his average façade?
Sally has screams within her mind, midnightly
the mum's sad eyes that he's carrying back,
waste from the hill

you know I am restless,
I've been hunted before
the sinking metronome returns, afloat
it doesn't tick anymore

lover holds onto thoughts of the unbearable
lightness of being
did the child on his throne and Sally, as soon
as the screams subside, did the earth and the
mum's sad eyes drop the light behind the curtain?

the white knuckles never darken
and utopia is just a hoax and you
should have spoken up
and you should speak up, because in
two decades you'll be silenced

-c.j.

winter brought cabin fever, which was harder
to diminish because I was in love
illumination whites intensely, brusquely,
despite the heavy woodwork flaunting comfort

beauty was within the blustery coats, fear was
whittled away due to blooming images of us together
it waxes in beams dripping thick happy wishes
from corners bright

what was brutally captivating fed me, ushered
out the cold, which would always delve through
broken ideas of love and lace them back together,
the same as they were before, and tighter

-c.j.

where is the place that the soul meets body?
my spirit yearns to know its home
why won't you tell me where the soul meets body?
paris, london, rome
the vigour in my layers will not die
until I know

-c.j.

thank heavens I realised he can't treat me that way
what kind of man tells you of his infatuation,
gets separated from you, reunites with you,
then exerts his energy to secret affairs, the kind
that set you beside another woman and allows
people to shine flashlights into your eyes?
what kind of twisted love story is that?
not mine, no, not mine

-c.j.

they say there are forces beyond our control
that reside within us
oh, how their whispers escalate into screams
it's worse than it seems, this need
heart insists, "touch every inch of me,  touch oh touch please,
carress and hold, tender and sweet"
i heard through the grapevine
then diamond rhombi on notebook pages climb
over each restless thought
surrender, this is war, touch oh bleed into me,
i will lose so gracelessly
no, stand up, free yourself now
(there is a force within that knows you can win)

-cj

tomorrow, take me to the unfamiliar
until the months are blacked out in
the whites of my eyes

subtitles reveal:
the moon cried, but no poison
came to her rescue
because they saw the diagnosis
as a blessing and that's why
she ran away

and of course it was strange
she preferred quaking to waking
today, steal me away to anywhere
untangled spiderwebs tend to twist
their way back to the entwined
symphony of silk

-c.j.

The closeted fear is all superfluous now
Attention is not a favoured curse we ignore because we think we've seen something bright and terrible that has changed the way our hearts reply for the rest of their beating

-cj

Words drown; a watery vengeance, I'd say
Resuscitate the poet, wring out the lungs
all splattered with ink; paper confetti bloodstains
Save the denied artist, try a little tender humanity, something to quench your thankless thirst

-cj

Fumbling through the darkened lights
The room knows you so well, the secrets
whispered into the walls
The books don't hold grudges
Not for too long, at least
Unlike you they don't want to be
anyone's ghost

-cj

What can we expect but to be hurt by love
After all, that which is good must end badly
A truly terrible law
So run from the one who makes you go weak
It will save you time and give you mystique

-cj

you quarantined us
we'll be released soon
and hand you a single moment
the genius of the era

the villain who hinders
we'll be released soon
and destroy your methods
you draw a grin from the start
your palms become blades anew

drafts, unparalleled
you chase the sequence
and colour it yourself
simultaneous fortunes
simultaneous establishments
when nothing is simple
only the sharpest remain

this is how it happened
but these are our treasures to seize
what resulted from civility, from justice
nothing reveals another "else"

-c.j.

Most of the streetlights have been broken for years now, but a few hang on, flickering every now and then
While we slept the clocks ticked a little bit too loud for our liking, the stairs creaked like little screams every time we made a step
Mornings were rather sullen, with the moon still out and Dad snoring in the room across from us
There was a fog, too, one characteristic to where we lived, that came no matter the season, and we had to squint or cut holes out of it to see the street in front of us
The school bus was very yellow and the windows were like aviators and we sat in the same seats day after day, chasing the scenes outside
We and our friends were poor, but we were alright, wearing the same jeans for three days in a row without anyone saying anything about it
Mom and Dad fought alot
We went outside when they did and didn't come home until after dark
We'd ride our bikes around the neighbourhood, see the older kids smoking under the bridge
We'd climb the old tree by the elementary school and throw dares
When the streetlights came on we started to go back
It wasn't like we were thinking about the fighting or the liquor bottles on the kitchen floor or anything, really
We just wanted to go home
And when we finally went to sleep after scrubbing the dirt from our feet, the broken streetlights went on a few hours later, and another day was happening

-cj

I will trust you with all my crystallised ideals, escaping my throat with my broken chariot voice
sleuthing amongst our pasts, while wanting to be in each others' present, now, tomorrow, and the next day
this trust is a fragile thing
I cannot give it to anyone
nurture it, light my eyes, touch my hands, dance with my sleeping body
the sun frames your beauty into this work of art, this black haired god, and you don't notice the rays
but I always do
trust me with your heart and hands and swallow your pride, desert your logic, and put your hands on my waist
as you surrender
to this forbidden kiss

-cj

human:
an insult, an excuse
a beautiful reason

alive:
undead, fevered and pulling on IV's
grinning in spite of the news

it's a wild way to live,
with a function

-cj

curtains tremble at her presence
the consequence of the remarkable
angle of her bitterest smile

-c.j.

He roams the city, she sits there
What a pity
He sees every light, every street, but justice does not shrink
For she sees every memory, every song, like film placed in her eyes that she couldn't push away

-cj

I grab your hand
and lead you to
where we stand
between the shelves
Do you hear that,
I ask
What,
you ask
It's the books talking

-cj

Problems with pride
slighting the audience or crowd surrounding with your eyes only looking forward
to your dire black screen
where the feathers are strewn in a careless pattern
but the wings themselves are aligned to the mirrors at angles so keen they scream in impatience at the wait
letmeoutofthisbody for pride swallows me
I want to be adored I seek that and self-love, against loathing
letmeout

-cj

Stealing minutes from the hour to
summon some vain power
The fan blew, and mother knew
The facts were sad and blatant
Stay here, avoid the temptation
Resist it with every atom of your being
I am a skinny thief
Collecting weekends just to feel relief

-cj

You concealed it
Were you ashamed?
I saw it in every thing about you
and for a minute it made me sad
You are not dimensionless
Though I once thought so
You dizzy the stars within me
but I think I make yours go still

-cj