jae_ming_jue's profile

jae_ming_jue avatar
AGE: 39
LOC: LA, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: April 21

Jae Ming Jue has been writing in compulsive spurts since he was a small boy growing up in Chicago’s south side. His writing process is not unlike having children—-painful with a long duration between births. After living in several cities across America, he’s making too long a stay in Californian spaces. One of his poems, I Dream of Blue, has been published first at The Banyan Review and subsequently at Verse Libre Quarterly followed by Circle Magazine. You may find several of his other poems published at various poetry websites including Flutter, Deep Cleveland, Sein und Werden, and Real 8 View.

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Items
Poetry / Lazy Night into Slumber
Version 3
4 Reviews   4 Comments
The night ticked down as candles gasped into thick curls of smoke suspended in the sweaty air—even the music slowed its blues into a bass of fleshy caresses. My eyes spied a woman, alone at a small table smoldering. Her dusky red hair was matted against her pale flesh as eyes of darkest night held a glare, for me, I fancied in the receding burn of her cigarette. Perhaps she was simmering with some bitter knowledge: of a wife, a man, herself excluded. A horn blew brightly agitating the dust ac...
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Poetry / why maybe me
Version 2
17 Reviews   37 Comments
she left the chair, folded against the wall by the door, i don’t know why. switching off the light, she paused, maybe not. i guess. a fading array of images her slender body, long hair polka dot dress, and perfume trailing away... she was angry perhaps rightfully so i can only assume. the door remained closed on me as i sat paralyzed on that folding chair.
Poetry / reclamation
Version 1
4 Reviews   6 Comments
My life is shit. I awoke to my skin crawling a revulsion to a high blood-alcohol content or perhaps a reversion to the norm at least a normal without stumbling to a stand in an upside down world of being alone in dark bottles without wife, without children, without constant dreaming with constant echoes. A rat-a-tat-tat of flashes and flesh pulled back, revealing bone, sorrow spilling forth my hands never clean. And the keys, always like church bells that taunt salvation, only dark hands eve...
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Poetry / Fever
Version 1
0 Reviews   0 Comments
Burnt beneath a blanket of forest green. Cold air lingers above this fragile scene. Disembodied sheep leap from side to side. Translucent fairies in my head abide. Voices wrap their steely arms about me. Bluish light shimmers on the wall like a disquiet sea. In duress my body writhes. Robutussion visions haunts my mind. My birdcage of breath seeks peace please. The air exhales toward the blind. White ears stare at me from the pane. Whispers caress my body. There is no pain. ©12/2002
Poetry / untitled
Version 1
8 Reviews   3 Comments
The steady cadence of locomotion over track steadily found rythm in my thoughts, dreams in tapestry that undulated with my moods. This dark train, stained with lime green phosphorescence the blood of tunneled caverns in my searching, holes made by the hands of other men before me. Conversations pass me by as feathers of angel wings drifted down, dusting the landscape of burnt trees, twisted shapes of bony fingers in a last grasp. Closing my eyes, I see a little girl like you so long ago when ...
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Reviews
Poetry / At One
by broderj
A cute poem that has a clean simplicity to it. I'm unsure why, but I feel "ocean's waves" is incorrect---maybe it rolls off the tongue funny or I'm so use to seeing "ocean waves". It's just me I'm sure but I thought I throw it out there.
Poetry / Auzziemandy
by Bosco
It's unclear to me what you are describing but I like the gist of it and see room for improvement. I'm not sure if ungainly is as good a description for the ocean before you or whether "enfolded" could be best replaced with "enclosed" or some other synonym. Also, I think "I" may be best replaced by "we" in the first line even if the "she" is a native and you're not. Of course, if you want to make the distinction, than perhaps a different way to write it. However, should you stick with it, con...
Poetry / Humor
by dalost1
Locked
Poetry / Infirithiel
by AmyWalker
Locked
Poetry / Theatres
by nelson1
I don't think theatres is that unusual a subject matter for poetry but then again I don't recall a poem off-hand about a play. Perhaps because it has it's own poetry that few writers feel it worthwhile to say anything more. Which brings me to your poem. By the same token, I don't feel you say anything more than what I know about theatres, however, as a general description of what goes on beyond the proscenium, it works on that level. It's a start but it doesn't do more than give a cursory gla...
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