it's only a universe between us, you whisper
it's unlike anything you've ever laid eyes on, this world
the figment has arrived, the close leaked onto
the blank in your book
why did it twist you like early winds swallow the woods?
thought it could- there's a part looming, and you're unaware
are you sitting there, watching the clock until I meet you?
clutch you wholly, singly

the middle is here
you give, you take
vain subject
mutter it and it'll manifest itself

we can remain in the present if we surrender the past
the wayward flowers for pleasantries bought
the fearful and selfish in the hurricane, latching onto
lost dependencies, onto last echoes of ourselves
of a beginning- it's superior to the ******
it's only the universe between us, you whisper
peaks in your chest make you cold
peaks in your chest make coldness dwell

-c.j.

rumours spread that medusa has starry eyes
the kind that embrace the others' before turning them to stone

-c.j.

If we don't have trees, what will we have?
I search the archives, come up blank
Each other, you answer
And the kiss that follows is evergreen

-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.

Pencils tapping, stomachs grumbling, silent, empty lessons
This is the school soundtrack

-cj

Treat me like you would your fingernails
Bite me without pause, a nervous, natural cause
Let me peel your fruit's skin, tear its precious flesh
Study me often, even when there are prettier sights to see
Press me into you when there's that itch
I become ***** and sharp, but you know how to fix me
Put me up to your head and run me through your hair
Attached to your hands, a naughty awakening you can't escape

-cj

If I stopped writing I'm pretty sure
my cells would shrivel up and the notions
aforementioned in wishy-washy stanzas
pertaining to the deceptive romantics
would become gold poison seeking to
destroy their maker

-cj

For we can spin, in rest, over this galaxy
No oxygen or law to sigh from
Black holes in a taunting peripheral vision
The moon is our home, welcoming and lonely
We can let the radiating lights between pretty stars
Take us there, we cannot tell whether it is night or day
(The sun never seems to tilt this way)

-cj

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.

remember that this is about
the bare min
passing
with limping colours

-c.j.

History means to disturb us in horrible violet sequences,
bringing out the spots and toils of the inevitable past,  
creating this haste to escape

-cj

you have to stop yourself and ask
if you possess the power to write
something true
and also something false
and if you can only do one of those
*******
you are not a writer

-cj

if pain speeds the art
pierce away, pierce away

-cj

Collecting words is dangerous
but losing them is more so
A fatal flaw, to let them get away
Yes, the ink stains, and love's majority
is unrequited
Don't obscure the beauty it breathes
in its time, young one
Allow the better things to stay once
all else has escaped

-cj

I won't share you
not during witching hour, or rainy afternoons,
or when the moon gleams neon
to think there is another one that makes me
clamour for subliminal explanations, relief
you should know I can't always be the sweetest,
to **** maybes and what ifs must be done
you might say they're just people, we do things
together, it's nothing to worry about
but the thought of you close to her makes me
reach for my needle

-c.j.

You make me feel soft again and I thank
you for that
I went so long hating myself, but when
that summer came, you said the
honest things that stirred something
like happiness inside
For this I thank you, also
Months that saw me befriend cold
tiles and seemingly empty sheets
See, they are past, they are gone
You are now, you are here
Thank you, thank you, thank you

-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

Become queen? How absurd
A hundred years could pass in a wind's blowing and I still would not be ready
Marie with her cake and Mary with her blood;
I think I'll stay in the garden and paint the roses red and read nonsense and speak what no one else dares

-cj

Back to that dark and cold place
Where there were black and white rumours
Whispered in the corridor
And austere paintings on the walls
Return to colourless candour
A simpler deity and home

-cj

to invent something, one becomes obsessed with the one real altering "what"
inventors spend summers and springs in their attics
attempting mad tries concerning a last ambiguity
being wise does not always work in said theorists' formulas
madness breeds brilliance, but one botch will torch onlooker's perceptions

-c.j.

hello, I'll linger here and hold the land
hello, I'll linger here and harvest, as planned
return to me, we've lingered
luck ripens fast and expires at last
I folded it and I'll preserve it, I'll preserve it for you

along the dining hall into your hands
seize my mantras, presents for you
it'll be back when the rest remain
we will lose ourselves to the land

there's hearts here, there's hearts
there's visions, surreal, there's visions
there's you and me and what we inhale
it's begun, the descent
you're deprived of sleep and it's pressing
since you'll feel when you're alone and
you'll do lonely things when you realise,
it'll hit you one night

you linger, sitting, thinking about it, fervently
the lovely middle is happened and all else is old
you and I stay on the pew, always in the front
you will linger with me
linger until the final one, keep on, until the final
quaking frame, until the next arrives
until my hands grow weak
don't leave the land, don't leave it

-c.j.

clicks are the sound as the sidewalk
is the misty stage
it's too early
and too late
to go back to sleep

-c.j.

It induces physical reactions within me
i.e. lurches of the heart
I decided to be happy again
And not live in limbo

-c.j.

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.

sleepy stretching, currently
watch the opposition beneath
pack your bag with rotten stars
see the nova running, lost

perpetual wall in front of us
territory lines sense us
each line senses us
if you go, go in peace

your palm's a dam, I crave it
it flickers the sun, my part's a scarlet letter
see from above and soak your palms and
you'll settle on a sticking thing

it reminds of the perpetual wall
in front of us, a howling
I failed to bring up each past mistake
it's the nagging that compels desire
so be, so be, you're the blatant key

-c.j.

I didn't want to drag myself along anymore
I wanted to open my eyes to this world everyone else knew about and maybe even lived in
One where the days weren't everests
One where the people dabbled in love without the consequences tied to their wrists
One where there was always a reason to be happy

-cj

I fell asleep whispering your name
and woke doing the same
Have you choked on the sun?
I am sketching needy hearts into my hands
and rescuing dreams with tea leaves
Hopeful, wanting, hoping, wantful
Mountains converge
and our lips are
so far apart
Perhaps, this time, they are real wounds
disguised as fleshy hyperboles
Written about restlessly, melted candles
with congealed memory resting on the desk
The spinning cups on the table;
that is us, dear, that is us

-c.j.

Waste nothing, want every little mint and lozenge in the shop
Forgive everyone, seek vengeance on all
the sidewalk cracks since the start

-cj

Nights such as tonight
the stars serve as reminders
of all the lights I haven't been
blinded by yet

-cj

quiet these days, she needs a little peace
sleeping until noon
no motive, no moon
dance until the glass breaks
and you find someone to join you
we've got all our wants
and I've got my needs

praying to the dawn
you're London and I'm Leeds
slipping out of time,
running out of reasons
to show up
we've all got intentions
and I forgot to mention
I've got needs

-c.j.

don't run in the streets, now
you are no longer a child
eighteen years past nineteen ninety six
is what you are
walking a line drawn for that
seemingly eventual someday that is today
don't run, not even in your mind
for if you trip and fall, you'll be left behind

-c.j.

because the day was over
and it was quite alright to say goodbye
she skipped formalities
and lay her head on her own pillow,
her dreams already beginning to whisper to her

-c.j.

Mum and Dad told me I'm worthless and through my teeth in my silent style I agreed and went to sleep only to return to the heavy brick grey of the gems

-cj

May I see the rain, she asked the teacher politely
No, the teacher replied, the thunder in her voice
A frown and smothered protest
Nothing to quench the thirst but thoughts of drops, descending, bending time
A truly sad tale, to be remembered in every storm

-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

you give me impulses
to scream and break
everything I own
I am fragile and weak
in the night I creep along
trying to find a last defense
gruelingly brushing my hair
out of my eyes
vexed and haunted by desire
call me a ***** wicked liar
then kiss me to silence

-c.j.

no matter what you're told, that colour will
always speak volumes to you in the same way
they don't say all this could be yours, but hues
and shades of the sky rest in your blood
hearts like ours beat with the atmosphere,
despite everyone's changing flows,
we stay sensitive to the sights

-c.j.

Summer is a season of dread and poisonous sun
I shed the winter's skin, pulling straws,
hoping for the devil's snare to swallow away the weeks
No structure, only solitude and dwelling on the numbers

-cj

inevitably waking up to a black sun, the eclipse is stuck
news channels don't even mention it anymore because
it's been this way for a while, now

sunshine became shadow- the smart people said we should just turn
night into our day, with the moon as a replacement
the world cannot revolve around a dark star, so the world chose to be nocturnal

we adapt constantly, we still are somewhat comfortable, but all
of the flowers are gone and we've turned to animals for their meat
desperately as the goods of the ground die out

pale arms and legs are the norm, and we ration our electricity in case this never ends, in case the sun never sheds its selfish cloak

we are managing, but there is no such thing as thriving, anymore

-c.j.

But, mother, this isn't what you said it would be
I cannot turn the corner without a monstrous swaying;
Doubt overwhelming the nooks and crannies of this body

-cj

we should go down this street, it's been awhile
and allow the hatred to cover you, eventually
we should go down this street, it's awhile since
the last time
we should rest and speak to each other and
unwind, cease the hurry
just return to who we were, eventually
we should go, we should see something like beauty
these roads belong to us
it's possible to become the other people
grasp the ends, leap in from yesterday
these roads belong to us
these are our ultimatums, and for the best
may you take the wheel?
witness us in the white light
inquire my whereabouts
return home, return to longing
these are our origins

-c.j.

It rained this morning
It's very watery outside, I said
The black umbrella was my friend and the white skin beneath its shade remained in denial

-cj

we won't go home immediately-
it's not like we seek cheap thrills, but
the urge to get away is indomitable
and tonight, we're going to run

finally, my saviour, finding me in
sweet disarray, and me doubting,
thinking you're not the one

but the night was not a mere visiting-
statue after statue felt our hands graze
their marble, heard us repeat, we won't
go home, we won't, not yet

-c.j.

"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

Was it really just a matter of association? Because every word felt like a mistake
I wanted to walk down an alley with my coat buttoned up, paradoxes running wild in my head
Like the axioms and jilts of time, each wish withered, went good with grime
The simplest ideas went to waste- since there was a full moon, only washed up regret to taste

-cj

further along from that friday
early, late, is it just a ruse
craving the past, i was brave then
verbal nerve catalyst (heart beats wild down staircase)
are we the same,  impartial neighbours,  somewhat lovers
walking past each other in silence?

-cj

for your reflections
I dedicate a fevered reality
slammed into a picture frame

-cj

When she would lie,
it wasn't the truth backwards
rewound through the record player
But intermittent sounds from the original

-cj

He looks elsewhere when he talks & thinks about it
and I want to gaze in this way
for a while
The magnet of something
The poles are just the cores of us as humans
But the hands forcing the pull apart
are the ugly fingers of legality

-cj

She wanted to feel her heart cut out,
and raw, again
Verse after verse, drug after drug
He is subtle about the terrible
aftermath he inevitably brings
And her eyes spoke tales of nothing
chivalrous, only lust and the smell of skin
Only, "protect me from inevitable division"

-c.j.