How Many More Poems?
But isn't it poetry seeing your lover's face,
Yet you never keep count of every sighting?
And isn't the evening sky poetic
With the infinite stars as its verses?
With the moon appearing night after night,
Still you never cease to be enthralled?
Though life demands for a final answer,
It does not let go the many beautiful mysteries -
There is the endless ballad that the river sings,
And ever-amusing stories told by the wind.
Who keeps track of the times one listens to music
When one is lost in its ecstatic rhythm?
Have you reached your literary boredom threshold?
Are you trying to find an escape from poems?
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poem by Je'free Y .
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Half-Nude
My twin still tries to convince me
That love is a need.
I am good at wearing costumes.
In fact, I've won on many Halloweens.
A tough facade, a hard-to-break shell
Encases my fragility, and I become
A superhero of my own.
It is both a barrier and a weapon.
Scraping mold and stain over the years,
I keep polishing it like a mirror.
A part of me wears nothing but air.
Nudity makes my embarrassed skin
Blush for armor or protective shield.
I think emptiness is nakedness.
Vulnerability kneels in the confession box,
Honest about a need.
My male is a fierce loner,
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poem by Je'free Y .
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Up to Us
In the quatrains and images
Of the lost books of Nostradamus,
In the hidden purpose & symbols
In gothic cathedrals by freemasons,
In Mayan and Jewish calendars,
In pyramids, ancient prophecies,
And warnings of alchemists,
In what the constellations are speaking of,
In biblical codes, in what our ancestors left us-
There are revelations of wealth of information
On signs of apocalypse, Armageddon,
And secrets of the end of days.
Will there be another flood of Noah,
Another cataclysmic purification?
Will there be a galactic alignment,
A holocaust, a cosmic disaster?
Will there be climate crises, nature's backlash
Causing blackout in the planet, earthly havoc,
Famine, incurable diseases, extinction?
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poem by Je'free Y .
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Writings
I never keep track of the number of poems
I have written to get to present places.
I wonder how much fire, how much desire
And yearning for healing have inspired me
After those good-byes and heartbreaks -
When you bid farewell for another town,
When frequency of your calls dropped down,
When your call never ever happened again,
Then I waited in vain for far too long,
Then I imagined jumping down the Empire State,
And you appear like a ghost of the past to tell me:
'What the hell was I thinking when I left?
Is it too late for you take me back? '
Ex-lovers have a skin twice as thick as their victims.
They are never into poetry for it is too lame for them.
While poets pour their hearts out to their craft,
Exes are online hooking up with Mr./Ms. Horndog.
Well, verses grow like vines. Words pile up in my head.
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poem by Je'free Y .
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