the velvet sunset melts into the horizon, Dali paints as we carry on with our delusion, ceaselessly involved in our own duration, creamy white churches, ivory castles, day after day, we add another brick to our palace of false reality. –e.l. jayne
Tag: poem
‘…there is nothing of value without death.’
“Poets understand that there is nothing of value without death.” Clarissa Pinkola Estes
{detest}
{detest} you must choose what you detest, either your conscious or subconscious, your awareness or your dreams, the ultimate battle, zeus and typhon, you cannot have two supreme rulers. –e.l. jayne
{interconnection}
{interconnection}poem x e.l. jayne these days, you pick your side, your group, your argument, not this one, but that one. our interconnection is taken for granted. people only want to surround themselves, with other like-minded people. unlike any other species, we’ve evolved because of our immense ability to work together; I, for one, wouldn’t want…
{phantasmal}
{phantasmal} the soul gazes out the window into the mysterious world, and surmises that love will be the answer. to lay idle and dream of the perfect love is easy, believing you’re in a fairytale love story is quite befitting. you contemplate what you feel and what you fancy, and cleverly, manifest it within your…
{projection}
{projection} you sit across from me and merrily paint your own picture of me, instead of seeking my soul. you interpret me as you please. does anybody actively embody the person they see themselves as? give me more selflessness because life is nothing… –e.l. jayne
{seaside reverie}
{seaside reverie} creamy clouds, dissipate to reveal sparkling waves, tangerine colored terraces, poise over the marble sand. vineyard horizons, salty hair, and makeshift linen dresses, our freckled hands intertwine; you can’t live your life for moments like these, but once you get a taste… it’s hard not to. –e.l. jayne
{a poet’s proclamation} poem x e.l. jayne
{a poet’s proclamation} although I may seem stable and well-adjusted, I consider myself a poet, even if no one else were to agree, even if every word i’ve ever said, has probably been said by someone else, and undoubtedly better said, too. i’m not always this quick to forfeit, but brevity is the soul of…
{scapegoat} poem x e.l. jayne
{scapegoat} slouched under the cobalt spruce trees, contemplating what could’ve been. you are doing what you thought you always wanted, yet you’ve lost perspective like a picture by Escher. you can blame it on a straw vote, or our propensity to boast, but those are just scapegoats. life hurts less when you see it for…
{Rome in gold} poem x e.l. jayne
{Rome in gold} the peach sorbet sunset, paints Rome in gold. life is a dream; and like all dreamers i passed through my memory. this is where you go when you’re exiled. back to that reverie of a summer in Italy, i think i might live forever. —e.l. jayne
Poems & Prose 