JENNIFER HARTLEY ILLANES
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Poetry


I have seen the light;
and it has bid me to stay.
I stand on the back of my lover,
and he lifts me high
begs me to fly
and wishes for me to return with tales.
Of wind and clouds and
far off stars.

I have felt his manhood in the length
of the strides he takes;
In his powerful walk towards
kindness and bent shoulders;
In the softness of his feet as he walks
towards me and crumples in equality
to my level where I lay curled.
There is harshness to be found in the
tides and eddies of the river that
is him, but his insides used to be
all angles.

Erosion is our mutual lover.
And when the sea swallows
all the bits of us
we will find ourselves as mixed
and far reaching as we hoped
when we saw the cosmos
in the flecks of melanin and light.
I could not rage in the dying of stars
but pass along in ecstasy
with the taste of sand.
​
the lightning will fire and the waves will roll
and the ticking of thunder will sound the death toll
so snuggle in close dear and listen to waves
that shatter the world when they whisper in caves​
oh i'm sailing away on my little row boat
I'll be scouring the ocean till it no longer floats

And when the birds come out crying, filling the air
with buckets of water and more to spare

then I'll pick out the starfish from the oceans below
and toss them to the clouds and ready the show

and when the water drops down his sight
then the seagulls stop crying and land from the flight

my boat has sunk father than I dare to retrieve it
and the starfish are patterns on the folds of this blanket

then we can swim once more in the tide
and float on the oceans in which we confide

before we have gone and left all these sheets
for the children of ours who never knew of the reefs

and when we have sailed as far on the sea
as our little red boat will carry you or me

and hope that the day when the beaches are gone
only shows up when you have forgotten this song
Drape the deep in sapphire curtains,
Cover the oil, the seaweed blood,
And lounge in perfume fractures
​While we wilt below.
​
Today I caught a glimpse at Man:
he was a rabbit hole Guillotine.
his sword descended on waistcoat watches,
and tore apart seconds.
We hold them in an OCD crematorium,
and nod at the palm readings.
Down in the depths of a vampire ocean,
lies an octopus shedding it's skin.
It leaves behind a Tentacle Mess
to ride the currents of sand.
But the real sea captain storms the high seas
​in a tightly-corked bottle, afloat.
Everyone's gone and left me dry,
I'm absent of masts and sails and lines.
The crests and the troughs are warring aloud;
I've mapped out cosine onto these shrouds.
Give me the Kraken and a broken cutlass,
​over these failings of which I surpass.
I have this insatiable desire to wander,
without reason, hope or expectation,
but to experience the world
in a whirlwind of moments
that each carry their weight,
perhaps on my soul.
Sometimes I wait on the edge of noonin a Pittsburgh crossroads of motion.
But often I rest in the cement of foundation
that yields to the enticing of silence.


Dear Mom,
You work with autistic kids.
But before you know how to be an EA
and about stimming and overloads.
Before your new job,
you gave birth to a rainbow
hidden in cloud.
It took 23 years to show you my colours.
You didn't believe it
until I held a ticket.
But this doctor note scribble
doesn’t change me.
I'm still the girl
You grew me to be.
You didn’t catch the hints
but you noticed what I needed.
Your hugs were my deep pressure therapy,
my brothers and sisters were my friends.
You cheered me on in my interests
and fought for my every need

Dear mom, 
You might be a rainbow too.
No one helped you out of the overcast skies.
Back then rainbows were a sign of rain,
but now you know they sing of sunshine.
Do you know what makes you overwhelmed?
I do.
Loud kids not listening.
Change.
Plans being dashed apart.
Emotions too big to express.
Do you know your special interests?
I do.
Crafts.
Paint and paper mache and cardboard and markers.
Puzzles.
Music.
Do you know your stims?
I don’t.
You never learned what to do to make you happy, 
to make your soul lift 
and your heart glow.
But you talk to yourself, 
you don’t know how to make friends,
you, don’t stand up for yourself,
you hit yourself when you have a meltdown.
you watch your favorite shows every night,
your life is routine.

Dear Mom,
We are rainbows.

Autobiography
File Size: 95 kb
File Type: pdf
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Prose


Feminist Space Invaders
File Size: 257 kb
File Type: pdf
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Decadence of Fear
File Size: 1885 kb
File Type: pdf
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Letter to the Queen
File Size: 36 kb
File Type: pdf
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All artworks are the property of Jennifer Hartley Illanes.  Do not remove watermarks or logos.
Copyright © 2023 Jennifer Hartley Illanes
  • Home
  • About
    • Artist Bio
    • Curriculum Vitae
  • Portfolio
    • Sculpture & Wearable Art
    • Fibre Art
    • Performance Art
    • Digital Media
    • Leatherwork
    • Jewelry
  • Shop
    • Apparel/Stickers
    • Art For Sale
    • Other
  • Contact