Tag: poet

  • My tears remain the same, but I will never be that me again.

  • Thunder

    As thunder cracks and the heavens break
    We are pulled back into each other’s storm,
    Drawn by a tether neither of us can name.
    Our cords run deep.


    We search for the centre calm – the fragile quiet buried beneath all this noise.
    For the home of belonging in each other’s heart.

    Chaos surrounds us, chaos tests us,
    Thunder pressing its questions hard against our ribs.


    Yet in the wreckage, we reach for each other first.
    Searching, finding each other
    In the stars,
    In the dark of the night,
    In the rain and the cold,
    And in the last flicker of the flame.


    Always returning, always pulled back in.


    Hold my hand and let it rain,

    You are mine –

    through every storm,

    in every lifetime that finds us again.

  • 🚦 Green Light 🚦

    🚦 Green Light 🚦


    I aimed for red—
    sunset bleeding orange and fire,
    a perfect contrast.

    Then it changed.

    Green.

    I almost didn’t take the shot.

    But I did.

    And now I see more than I planned—
    not colour,
    but a path.
    A horizon waiting.

    We spend so long waiting for the perfect red,
    the perfect moment,
    the perfect sign—

    but life doesn’t wait.

    It turns green.

    And every green light
    leads to the horizon.

    So go.

  • Untitled post 898

    I am thunder, I am storm.
    Bones of mountain, skin of sea.
    A field full of roses and unfinished stories entertwining in the quiet in between.

  • Affogato Afternoons

    Affogato Afternoons

    Affogato afternoons, where the day softens and the heart sharpens.
    I sip the sweetness melting into the bitter, hoping it teaches me something honest.
    I remember I’m allowed to slow down.

    Some afternoons are a truce.
    Others are a battlefield,

    Where I sit across from myself, letting the espresso burn through the fog I thought I was done fighting.
    But here – in this melting moment – I let it all blur.
    The past I’m trying to outgrow, the future I’m not ready for, the voices that rise like steam and disappear just as fast.


    Because in affogato afternoons, I learn the same truth over and over:
    Even the bitter can soften. Even the frozen can give. And sometimes, the only way forward is to let yourself melt just enough to begin again.

  • Find Reasons To Stay

    Find Reasons To Stay

    Find reasons to stay and stay relentless.

    Rest is still progress and rebirth is a journey.

    You will find your way.

    JACQUELINE LENTE POETRY

  • Untitled post 810

    I lay under a sky painted with sweet dreams of us.

    Planets in my head,

    Galaxies in my eyes.

    The night whispers your name, you are always on my mind.

    JACQUELINE LENTE POETRY

  • Untitled post 814

    Wisdom rises from failure.

    Dwell not on the past nor inflame the source.

    Correct your misconceptions.

    Transcend limitations.

    Move into the unknown.

    All the power lies within your true self and untroubled spirit.

    JACQUELINE LENTE POETRY

  • Two Strangers Part Two

    Two Strangers Part Two

    Two Strangers met
    And accidentally fell in as more than lovers

    We had different demons but matching wounds,
    And sad past tales to tell

    Two broken souls
    Trying to find some guidance home within each other

    Sadly,
    The echos of fear, ego, and past trauma were too great
    Destruction and self-sabotage got in the way
    We became lost

    From drowning in your gaze
    Skin to skin
    To drowning in your absence

    Another scar to add to the map
    Out in the cold again
    At war with my head again

    Two Strangers met
    And fell in as more than lovers
    But Love is war
    Life is chaos
    And two lovers became two strangers again.

    – Two Strangers Part Two

    JACQUELINE LENTE POETRY

  • Two Strangers

    Two Strangers

    You smell like rain and I want to be a part of your storm.

    Drown me in your gaze.
    Rearrange my mind.
    Hold me close,
    Skin to skin.

    Keep me warm from the cold of the outside world
    And the world inside my head.

    Our demons may be different,
    But we wear matching wounds.

    Tangled bones and a map of scars.
    Just trying to find some guidance home.

    – “Two Strangers”

    Jacqueline Lente Poetry

  • Untitled post 786

    The sad truth is
    No one else can save you.

    You have to dust away the misery.

    Darker times behind, darker times ahead
    We are endlessly changing.

    Facing scattered dreams,
    Silent screams.

    Bleeding for a thousand reasons.

    Rebirth,
    The heart beats slow.

    Safe in quiet places
    Seeking my own comforts,
    My own means to stay alive.

    Jacqueline Lente Poetry

  • Untitled post 781

    Creaking skeletal trees.
    Wolves with kerosene eyes.

    Ghosts crying in the walls
    While winter slowly creeps behind me.

    This internal battle is on the edge of dying dreams.

    Life plays the dark symphony
    The nights grow even longer, draped in the veils of wistful sorrow,
    And a small dying hope for better days.

    – Jacqueline Lente Poetry
    – http://www.jacquelineannlente.wordpress.com

  • Melancholia We Meet Again, My Oldest Friend

    Melancholia We Meet Again, My Oldest Friend

    In the space between endings
    Where the shadows settle

    Demons hide in the corners,
    Creeping aroung my delicate bones.

    My loneliest hour,
    Sadder than the skies crying out.

    The inevitable fall,
    The deepest inhale
    Before I drown in this violent storm of tangled memories and pain.

    Melancholia we meet again, my oldest friend.

    JACQUELINE LENTE POETRY

  • Serenity Is A Dream

    Serenity Is A Dream

    My mind is at war.
    My heart wants peace.

    One moment I am falling,
    Then floating the next,
    And falling again.
    On repeat.

    The demons creep around.
    Seeping into my bones.
    They have become my bestfriends
    When I am alone.

    Serenity is a dream far away from here.
    Reality is a prison.
    Constantly trying to escape,
    But never fully reaching the exit gates.

    – Jacqueline Ann Lente

  • Indigo Hues, Watercolour Skies

    Indigo Hues, Watercolour Skies

    I cry watercolour skies,
    You can see the tracks of my tears.
    I’m too dead inside.

    Indigo hues deepen as daylight wanes,
    And I realise,
    I don’t live here anymore, inside my head.

    All I can think of is,
    Hope is a slow poison,
    And temporary ecstasy,
    is enchanting,
    Against the fatal embrace of time.


    – “Indigo hues, watercolour skies” – Jacqueline Ann Lente

    Feature Image taken by Jacqueline Ann Lente