i wish i could stop
time. i wish i could deter
the gnawing dread inside.
i wish i could look at
the mirror and appreciate
myself, not be choked up
each day by my mistakes. i wish
for endless loving. i wish lifetime rest
for my tired soul…

crashing into him
feels as a burst of light
emanating only through splendid twilight
it is not love
nor lust
nor simply a quick bust
but something shining off the rust
the rust of loneliness and madness.

crashing into him
is eminent flowers
interlacing valiantly through hot Summer
a fresh of cold water
slipping down his dry throat
from previous romantic sorrows
golden gulps of life
golden gulps devoid of strife.

crashing into him
is what he writes about
unperturbed by rotten thoughts
just consciousness at ease
a symphony from a heart pleased
pleased of the many possibilities to be
at last, he happily screams.


born to be valiant
left to perish like a vagrant
how am I suppose
to embrace nations
that daily plot my demolition?

glorious history
but I am filled with melancholy
my people are dying
and no one seems to care
for centuries, they equate us with debauchery
in their eyes
we’re nothing but the devil in disguise
voodoo dolls kept
in their slanted dreams
we’re cursed they say
without acknowledging their own complicity
for our continuous demise

let it be known
that the world has failed
a country that stood for the freedom of all.


i wonder
in my sleepless nights
if our new love,
strong enough to cope
with my insecurities
and my envious disposition?

i wonder
in my tawdry dreams
if you can still love me
with a sense of urgency
even when i fall?

i wonder
glaring at the hot summer sun
if you’ll salivate at the thought
of my touch
when i am not here with you
safe and sound?

i wonder
under the fatal ocean’s grasp
if you’ll swim by
to save me from loneliness’ lullaby?
feeling totally defeated
for i wished, no matter what
you stayed.



Permission to be corny
under the stars, over the balcony
my heart burst out a million
when you shower me with much admiration.

I think of you
with tenderness and alacrity
that, at times, worry me
yet, majestically satisfies me.

Around you, I explode
in a sweet silent repose
unafraid to be bold
loving you enriches my soul.

Permission to be corny
under the moon, over earth’s beauty
timeless as you are
forever we’ll fly far.

“MOM! I want to be a writer.”

  • Here I go. Look I said it again, out loud, without any measure, everything bursting out from inside joyously. And I said it in the midst of an important conversation. Mom was on the phone. We talked about what I wanted to do. I said it loud and clear “MOM! I want to be a writer!!!”.
  • There was a pause. There’s always one. Believe it or not my heart rate did increase. I am 29 years old and even still I care a great deal of what my mother thinks of me. I…

i hate party people
and the silence they fail to handle
the screams, the tears of joy
the lawlessness they all employ
in the stupid name of happiness.

i hate party people
and all their stories, full throttle
mindless drinks and ridiculous stares
odious reasoning, pretending they care
while the world is burning.

i hate party people
and the many borrowed sorrows
for the pain i feel
stems not from the boastful meals
but the flagrant truth: we’re all screwed.


I can’t find the words
so I waited ’til they find me
then they couldn’t find me
for unconsciously I closed myself off
with strategic anger
and explosive behavior
all the lifelong resentments
pent up on me, like a build up stream
flowing in and out
while I am unable to scream
it is there I reach my folly.

I loved in multitudes
tolerated all esoteric attitudes
in my obsession of becoming Prince Charming
losing myself was even more demeaning
the soul soiled by unforgiving demands
in which gracious love simply couldn’t stand
yet you failed to understand
why finally leaving you felt so grand
I didn’t find the words
but my sentiments are no longer blurred
by the deceptive flaws in your design
as peace marvelously settles in my mind.


we were dancing
under the valiant skies
our bodies contorted
only to our blind happiness
but tragedy always strike, baby
when two souls collide so tragically
love left us scarred before
that all to do is not invite it in no more
and that was our travesty
opening the doors for possibilities
when in all actuality
we died as fast as we’ve been.

most nights I sleep
under the anger I keep
faltering at the thought of you
we were beautifully deranged
our feelings majestically arranged
under rainbows and explosive moonlights
as love, our then friendly armor
protected us from dangerous murmurs
the same blasting sounds
that in due time
broke off our trusted seal,
our biggest reveal:
we died that same first night
we kissed.


As I looked around
things are no longer
once what they were.
It was not just the gradual changes
nor the departing Fall leaves
that made things so eerie
that made crazies out of you and me.

Dysfunctional became our rhythm
however blinded we were
our many emotional tumults
exposing us bare
to a love verging on the austere
where intimacy is rare
as lies embalm our precious sphere.

The many lies we said
the many plays on death
a heart probed by fiery lust
is capable of turning worlds into dust
as you did with mine,
traveling, since you left,
without any sunshine.


Sébastien F. Dejean

Writes occasional good poetry.

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