Deus Ex Machina

By Jennifer Juan

Love is a constant in the lives of every person that inhabits the planet we call home. It is ever evolving, and manifests in a million different ways, and in the brand new poetry collection from Jennifer Juan, Deus Ex Machina, she explores the many ways she has met, experienced and lost love, from one off dates to year long endeavours, in the search for a solution to the most unsolvable problem of all, her own heart.

Exploring the passage of time, the healing process and the how we interact with love, Deus Ex Machina is a raw and emotional look at the never ending search for a happy ending.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jennifer Juan
• Release date: Feb 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463244128

Jennifer Juan

Jennifer Juan is a writer, musician and content creator, currently residing in the Kent countryside, but dreaming of the ocean. A tornado of darkness and delicacy, Juan creates engaging and powerful projects, using a variety of mediums and platforms, each dripping with her signature playful, yet powerful style of writing.A University Of Greenwich graduate, Juan began sharing her work on her personal website, before releasing several volumes of poetry, including the critically acclaimed “Home Wrecker,” and several musical projects, including the recent dual poetry and music release, “Deus Ex Machina.”Juan also hosts the podcast “Sincerely, Jennifer x”, an immersive look at poetry, current events and lifestyle, along with the spoken word poetry radio show, Diverse Verse, for LGBTQUIA+ pop up radio station, Alphabet Radio, as part of the award winning Soho Radio.

Book preview

Chapter One

The Vampire

New Year, New Me

Crimson

I Remember You, But Only When I Don't Want To

In Which Jennifer Asserts Herself, For The Very First Time

Train Crash

He Knows How To Spell My Name

New Year, New Me

I am living life backwards,

back,

unwelcome,

a mistress to my memories,

who will only see me discreetly,

under the cover of darkness.

Tell me,

why do fools fall in love,

with the days they'll never see again?

Why am I wandering,

moonlit and miserable?

There are fireworks frolicking in the sky,

the stars painted like a rainbow,

as Big Ben sings to the city,

that we made it through another year,

and I am furious,

at an inanimate object,

that is only doing his job,

and telling me the time,

because I'm not ready to sleep,

when I know tomorrow will be waiting,

as I awake.

The daylight is cruel,

dancing in the distance,

further and further away,

every time I take a breath,

but the night is pushing me towards my next step,

ignoring my ill fitting heels,

and general reluctance.

I am clinging to the pavement,

praying for the world to stop spinning,

bells to be blissfully still and silent,

so I can hold on to the night a little longer,

but night can never take me back,

and I can tell by the way the day avoids me,

that day doesn't want me either.

Crimson

I cried crimson for you,

Cascades of crimson,

calling out to you,

crawling from chocolate eyes,

racing like a river down my face,

to stain my soul.

I let you stain me,

colouring me crimson,

because it was your favourite of the shades.

Still,

as I slept still,

under your bed,

crimson baby,

blood red,

nothing could please you.

I cried crimson for you,

but nothing could please you.

I Remember You, But Only When I Don't Want To

I remember you,

when I run into you,

on the Facebook memory feature,

that still doesn't understand,

that there are some days,

where I was weeping with joy,

that no longer exist in quite the same way.

I remember you,

when I forget that I now prefer vanilla milkshake,

shaking at the taste of strawberry,

that I ordered on the orders of old memories.

I remember you,

when I remember why I avoid the Victoria line.

I remember you,

when someone manages the little things,

the meaningful moments,

that you could never quite give.

I remember you,

but only when I don't want to,

when I am finally alone with myself,

apart from you,

after spending eight years,

to make an hour long journey,

I arrive home,

turning all the lights on,

so I am not stalked by the shadow of what I long to forget,

and yet,

there you are,

on a screen,

or in a dream,

and for a moment,

I forget why I wanted to forget you,

but then,

regretfully I remember,

and the journey begins again.

In Which Jennifer Asserts Herself, For The Very First Time

If you ever get the urge to look me