{convalescence} poem x e.l. jayne

{convalescence} the era of romanticism expresses the appreciation for the ancient roman culture, which honors art, intuition, independence, and the individual experience, it contested the industrialization, and systemization of our lives, brought about by the enlightenment era, that argued for logic and reason to lead your life,  because that’s not living. emerging from my enlightenment…

{the accord of inertia} poem x e.l. jayne

{the accord of inertia} birthday candles were extinguished, children frolicked in their ghostly garments, the looming maples released the last of their leaves, october came and concluded, families gathered to feast, evergreens were dressed in their icicle draped branches, all the transitory animals migrated to mexico, neighbors lined their dwellings with lights, and took them…

{time and punishment} poem x e.l. jayne

{time and punishment} branches of the ancient pines bow gloomily, as the scarlet sunset fades into the forest. i suppose i write the story in past tense, because it’s the last thing i want to happen, but if i prepare for it, i won’t be surprised, and perhaps even suffer a little less. but also…

{fact or fiction} poem x e.l. jayne

{book lovers} floating like two inverted amber moons, a staring contest with the devil commences, isn’t it phenomenal, that we freely read sad stories? even if we knew the ending, we couldn’t restrain from reading our story, writing each chapter,  sipping tea through a lump of brown sugar, captivated by the cracks and crevices of…

{on rainy days} poem x e.l. jayne

{on rainy days} greenish mildewy panes, framed the view from my corner of the world, they could always speak like this to each other,  continuing a conversation they had not begun, let us live in the now forever, that’s what her ethereal eyes tried to express. she pressed her hand against the window, to feel…

{bookend} poem x. e.l. jayne

{bookend} it was a creamy and inevitable sunset in the same erratic, capricious climate, ragged, jagged rocks poised  an ironically sleek silhouette  atop the desert skyline, i’ve always been fond of a poetic bookend. –e.l. jayne

{novelists} poem x e.l. jayne

{novelists} love is a novel, you and I, the authors. our hands hold the pen, writing each word, each chapter, creating our own reality, of the love story we’ve always dreamed of. –e.l. jayne

{untitled poem xiv} x e.l. jayne

{untitled poem xiv} and don’t blame me  for wanting to be hopelessly in love because love is the only thing  we can truly curate in our lives.

{vagabond beings} poem x e.l. jayne

{vagabond beings} as the sunset melts into the great salt lake, i lean my back against the mountain, watching planes take off, one by one. i felt time dividing, then i realized, one might just be the one you’re on. no one understands nomadic romanticism better, we are forever wayfaring souls, mortals meant to meet…

{hurricane} poem x e.l. jayne

{hurricane} like a light, steady rain,  the feelings still remain, but they don’t overwhelm me anymore. –e.l. jayne