JIMENA RAMOS YENGLE
Author Feature - July 2021
My name is Jimena Sofia Ramos Yengle. I am Peruvian and I was born on December 14, 2001, so I am 19 years old.
Since I was little I have dedicated myself to art. I started painting at 4 years old and at 6 I exhibited my first work publicly. From the age of 12 I began to dedicate myself to music.
At the age of 14 I published my blog "Magical Manuscripts" in which I address different topics related to the human experience, part of my personal brand "Magical Maneuvers". At the age of 19 I published my first book, a romantic novel called "Roma Enamorada" which is available on Amazon.
I also have an active YouTube channel where I upload content related to cultural events, interviews, covers and original songs.
I am currently pursuing two professional careers "Physical Therapy and Rehabilitation" and "Psychology." In addition, I am in an Actoral Training school, studying Performing Arts.

FEATURED BOOK
FEATURED POETRY
It takes an old spasm
To keep seeing the skies,
That lack flaw,
They hint at a favorite kiss
His countenance clears
In front of my only shelf
Drag clouds in its path
And I'm wishing for a pacemaker
The inherence in his nature Is not enough in his head
His balcony collapses
Enerve pressure from the overhead
Wants more angel books
And the truth of those who sing A scarlet present
Know that you need a postscript
Time to time was coming
What remains and is rewritten The passion for who I paint A better gift overwhelmed
DEAR MIRROR
That gives proof of the liberated suffering
Conscious aesthetic delight
Stranger to the ascetic spirit
Expression absent in misery
Innate beauty that reflects my structure
Figurative art worthy of being true
My face wanders beyond the fateful becoming
Make up the elemental soul
The brevity of youth
Worthy is my being to love
And my creator, his wishes to liberate
I met the Parisian who compromised the doubt That immoral sage I wish to see my impure conscience My susceptibility was found in raw meat
I outline my naked soul with ink
I succumbed to pleasure dress
"As much as I want, I can do it"
Holding on to all that would come
I ignited the development of my ideology
Due to pleasure
So I don't have to fear my portrait
Meanwhile be generous deed
Only my smile will value
I thought I loved that personification But I don't understand love
So material, so earthly
Unless it comes from the local theater
Waiting for hedonistic signs
My science is the sustenance of pleasure If something I treasure is my smile That brings affability to shreds
My veins are roads
No meeting point , no finishing
I am drowned by the elegant whirlwind I march between continuous delights
My experience, foreign to the matrix I cry out for shame
And seeing his absence in my soul I sensed the inconsistency
One more time in front of the mirror I contemplate the elegant being
Understood narcissism
That I am unable to recognize
Perhaps my voluntary seduction,
Does it adorn simple and catastrophic faith? My hidden soul , share a room
With my only need, maybe a little reason
The interference of my beauty
I blur my humanity
Can't I long for more?
Existential paradox
I question the existence of a creational mold That perfects each season as it passes I notice that this vile sculpture
Occasion more than the original figure
Accept the surrender of my soul
And whoever wants to assimilate to courage Candid beats I can't find
Self-awareness lost its power
I wish spiritual surrender
May my firmness reach noble ecstasy Live the just, ephemeral and outdated That the wicked years stole
Now I know that I prefer love
Lived and destroyed
Before the immanence of death
Aestheticism, it is my inert face
Your footprints are marking a story
That does not collapse before the wind
You are neither logical nor sane
Precipitated, and I lose myself
Silent door, you don't knock
Try to uncover the old glories
Without poisoning the present
You are already quite absent
You tend to infinity
Incredulous and suspicious written
They run claps of a song
Crippling bandolier in my heart
And if you feel that I am inspired by more
Your relic, it's lustral delirium
Do not think to neglect mental alienation
You meditate rudely on the threshold
My alternative lyric
It houses the song of sovereignty
Armored letters on a carousel
Letters waiting for you! reader of the month
Talking about you is discussing oil
Classic natural emporium
You lighten artificial dexterity
Immense soul, babel rosebush
I place a blue cardboard bouquet
A pencil that I just made
A notebook written in Spanish
And that candle, I sure was your smell
You lighten the scarlet
You transform the bittersweet into cream
You keep the May sun alive
And I miss you, such a longed-for dream