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 Jeffery Van den engh
 Jeffery Van den engh
by Jeffery Van den engh  FollowFollow
Jeffery Van den engh was born in the Montreal Jewish General Hospital not too long ago. "I read T.S. Elliot mostly, but my greatest more comes from music. I am inspired by many things, but mostly memories. I write because I'd be foolish not to." Jeffery has written this poem for his bio. for my undaunted readers i haven't yawned very long in literary circles. to bear away in basements clueless to the sensual flux of seasons. to masturbate salvation. to suckle inspiration from the posthumous teat of some old bard as life leaps and sprouts beyond the sheen of chessboards freshly greased. through nicotine pasted casements angled only by a bible turned propping stone. where semen glazed posters portend towards a plaintive future. a bleak tunnel. perhaps a blade of moonshine. to slurp pretensions and mochachinos smoking catastrophes on corduroy sofas. to seek out kinship with williams and ginsberg. to ridicule daddy with reference to cronus. i regard your disquietude. would you have me cease to notice. my arms in raised pomposity. i coliseum cheer. sparrow songs truckle when you speak. please undo me with your wit. slit my wrists with paper daggers. to abscond to paris patios. bleeding woman with my tongue. to squat square chested on a breakwater trembling from the ocean score. to flake away in fiery conversations. to build up like hysteria squeezed into a padded jar. to erupt with scorn and snobbery. to juggle for the bar. to bury my face in lunacy dripping drunken la dee das. is to me a waist of life. which is to me replete with inspiration.
More work by Jeffery Van den engh:
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trust and familiarity is where i begin
          as we lay together
          you insist the lights be dim
          under heavy bedding
          it is your body to shield
          and yours to display
          as you  listen quietly
          to me speak

          anticipating kindness and sensibility
          your body protected by a password

          trust comes with

          to a man the body is an evening coat
          we don’t give it much thought
          the hands have their function
          it is all for function

          as you lay with me
          my hands want to feel your skin
          the schematics of your body
          to touch the captivating
          tranquility of your long black hair
          as you listen to
          me speak

          i am unaware of the language of your body
          what each little movement says to me
          but i’ll stay here with you
          for as long as you need me to

          as we learn to trust one another
          at a most familiar pace.            



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