Je'free Y .
Biography of Je'free Y .
Je'free is a poet, an artist, and a visionary
who is passionate in inspiring readers
to become better people via poetry.
Youtube Channel: JefreeJefree
Other Poetry Link: PoetryPoem.com/Jefree
Je'free Y .'s Works:
1st: Je'free Poem Selections (1995-2006)
2nd: The Sophomore Collection (July-Dec 2006)
3rd: 3rd-Dimensional (Jan-Mar 2007)
4th: 4K: Four of a Kind (Apr-Aug 2007)
5th: 5th Element (Aug-Dec 2007)
6th: Connexion-6 (Jan-July 2008)
7th: 7th Gig! (Aug-Nov 2008)
Greatest Hits 1: Je'free Poetry Essentials (1995-2009)
8th: Unreleased Poems Restored (1995-2009)
9th: Stardom: A Story In Poems (Dec 2009)
10th: Year 2010: The 10th Booklet (Apr 2010)
11th: Virtues (June 2010)
12th: Poetic Episodes (Aug 2010)
13th: Good Read (Nov 2010)
Greatest Hits 2: DIG IT! : Je'free Poetry Selections 1995-2010 (2011)
Je'free Y . Poems
The abode of tears: Tears of joy and tears of sadness. The house of traceable stressed contours, And relieved smiles on faces.
I took a couple with breakfast I wish they'd be called ‘Memory Killers’, As I now either eat waffles alone; Or, what is even more pathetic,
University Of Life
We are the undergraduates of everyday, From the first morning yawn To the time we merge the freeway; From the moment we harvest a lesson
There is a mild breeze inside That wants to be a hurricane. But I try to weather it. By sheer Force of will, I contain it within
Lover For A Night
There is a strange kind of void inside That I am filling with void Every time I restrict myself to be human, Or to be the vulnerable kind.
It seems two opposite lonely poles of the Earth, With their magnetic force, drew us away from each other, Creating an ocean of tears in between us, And a painful desert that thirsts for mercy.
Not far, nirvana, nations without guns and diseases, Where men speak only the language of the heart; Euphoria, a dream away, rising on the horizon To harmonize the surroundings in symmetry.
Why Newborns Cry
I, like everyone else, Do not have a vivid recollection Of my physical disconnection from mom. I snuck in this world of loans & utility bills
I do not think that physicists discussing The plausibility of time travel will be surprised, If one day, their descendants knock on their door;
We turned a perfect space into construction sites. Every laborer is ornamenting the already beautiful Only to realize, in death, how most of our sweat, Unnecessary, was but a waste of exertion.
Soon we will gather our flesh in pitch-dark rooms, And productivity of a hard day's work will pause. Smoke is already fogging my vision; And fumes, Clogging my lungs. Desire burns in cold shadows.
As A Poet
I yearn to find the silence to hear, and Listen to the story that nature speaks of, Praying for patient attention, Not for mere talent, to create masterpieces.
She was a projector. Mirror was her screen. Fluffy scarf of feathers around her neck, A boom box to her left, costumes to her right, Dancing, caressing the boa that she had on.
Remembering To Forget
The night? Hanukkah - Dying in the yawn of the moon, And the fading crumbs of stars Above eucalyptus fields.
As I tread on a road of brown, crispy leaves,
The evening sun shifts poles with the moon,
Through the unstable hierarchy of the heavens.
I become a witness to how the past links to the present
That connects to the unknown future,
Evoking me to mention in my soliloquy
How everything, how everyone
Connects into one entity.