You are as real to me as any other living thing
I can see. Alive and indestructible
Words are one of very few things that cannot
be taken from us
Even if conditions are such
that those words must only live
inside our minds.
Even before the completion
of one work of art on paper,
you have already been born somewhere
in my psyche
Until it's time to knock on the door and
come out
You
have always been with me
You are one reason I was born
to express you, share you
We, together, touch others
with honesty, beauty, smiles, tears,
even regret or angst
Whatever it is they need most
at the time
Your rhyme so satisfies me
like nothing else. We are a team
To write is better than the best dream
It's the closest I am able to come to eternity
There is no time. Time does not exist when
we are composing.
There is nothing else and
nothing I want for
when I'm with you
When I leave this limited space,
we will float away together
a feather
for the future
Whatever it may be
Thank you, Poetry
lFair orphan of the sky,
Yet another love meant for goodbye,
What light do you shine with,
Is it true what they say-
Burglar of men’s hearts?
To what God must I pray,
For relief from this ailment, say?
You might never return my heart,
And keep it yours to use-
But ‘tis not a crime, is it?
Hours fly by as I muse,
With speech, love I confuse,
Not more than a smile escaped,
And you smiled but I read,
All that you would never have wanted
My psyche, rife with dread,
In you, my soul what bliss it read,
Bliss of hope, bliss of love,
While you laughed as you looked at the sky,
And let me live my perpetual lie.
I was the storm-chaser of the soul,
in my psyche I felt the wafting touch
of your intangible gale of charisma,
rendering my love the blinding light,
magnificent to sense how it strikes.
But you drifted away from my entranced sight
like the squally clouds across my dream sky.
From the ebony edge of the night of despair
storm surged with thunder of tearing strife,
splintered my dream, dispersed in ornate debris.
I heard the squelching echo of sadness
resonate the rumbling lilt of heart’s lilac pulsation.
The tempest of grief wafted
the shards of my broken heart
configuring an emotive fresco
where I saw the beauty of sorrow
dance with the lazuli lightning of mesmeric memory.
In my twilight meadow you walk alone,
under my spectral ardent sky coloring you.
At its fringe I wait for you to come to me,
your luring way you’ll find to my heart.
But dislodged hope hurts my psyche,
unkept promises stifle my broken heart,
unkind words tear the lattice of my mind.
My life is an urn filled with your denial.
Your sensual aversion spreads as wild fire,
boils the blood of your intrinsic pride.
Its flare burns my tender demeanor,
its rage blazes our bonding bonhomie.
Your acrimony billows as thick smoke,
smothering your conscience losing sanity.
Vile breath is charged with spiteful ashes,
you deface the composed facade of control.
With the arcane acumen of a trickster
you crawl as a sordid silhouette of menace,
suck the ambrosia of my succumbed soul,
the casualty of your obsessed malice.
I think I must be mentally sick.
I look into my psyche - ick,
to think I would even pick
the Dodgers to win in four.
Aquarius, a good friend of mine,
leading the people around me since the beginning of time.
Hilarious the way he is kind,
now he's showing to me what I always wanted to see.
The chaotic side of life,
which makes you feel free like a raven flying high.
I see the people drown,
women, children, men, all looking like clowns,
ridiculous and stupid the way they are.
Confetti, which once was their home,
taking their breath, closing their throat.
Disgusting this world, which made me spit blood.
Through beautiful words, the well-known sky falls apart,
seeing it burn to the ground and rise again in a hot, hard-burning flame.
This is the nirvana I wanted to feel,
the heartbreaking truth my psyche needed to hear.
This, my friend, is the harmonic sound of change,
destroying all we had and ever made.
But what is that?
Through all the ashes and flames,
there's a little mad man who's ready to rule the world.
He climbs up on the mountain of dirt,
completely destroyed and badly hurt.
He will build what once was destroyed,
and that's how he'll find peace
in this round wheeled, repeating world.
After all the agonizing years when I drifted,
a day dawns from the debris of hope
with the sunrise aura of the future,
my appetency rises from the dust of dream.
The bursting beams of the rising sun,
slicing through the ether of my emptiness,
carry your essence to my mind I configure
as an urn to contain my universe of memory.
The allure of the affable contours of your face,
assures me I could tone down
my bitter feeling and absolve myself of
the abysmal attribution of dismal discontent.
The flicker of your sparkling smile like a flower,
caressed by the jasmine ripples of zephyr,
flows with your fragrance with whisper of the past,
fills my psyche I craft as a crystalline time capsule.
When floral lattice designs the motif of my longing,
the buds emit the aroma of your redolence.
As the bottle of emotion I open time and again
the perfume of memory suffuses my heart.
I saw it being built on sacred ground
a field where we boys had many times
reenacted Custers Last Stand.
Ashen boned jaws were riveted to the sky.
The school now waited to be
a concrete cave where madness
was injected into cringing sponge.
I dreamed once that I was a dog
chained to the school's bicycle rails.
Inside the new school, demented teachers
screeched through split nails.
Each lesson had to be hammered
into my psyche, each day my scalp tingled
with a foreboding.
Yet I knew that the arrow in my eye
had to be pushed in a lot further,
a whole lot deeper,
if my mind was to be ever
totally massacred.
Oh waxing Phoebe!how merciless art thou?
To stalk when my Psyche lamenting.
Thou art stoleth radiance of her sanctity face
Ye haven't thy own
Never bud aroma roses, it's not virtue
When my loved mourns
It's from her rosette cheeks
Thou grasped away her colour
Aurora!I pray unto thee
Ensconce my loved for mercy sake
Fear I, the lustful Sun
May perhaps, copulate her through radiance
Pluck away my eyes, oh lightning!
For I dare not to witness, my dying Psyche.
Did I ever know that I would be born?
Did I decide my psyche and physique?
Why is a rose shielded by a sharp thorn?
Providence creates each creature unique.
I think of building a castle for me.
I end up assembling a thatched hut.
When I, like a sparrow, wish to be free
An unknown force, from within, keeps me shut.
Untimely rain signs on the summer breeze
Floods and droughts play tragedies unannounced.
Earthquakes shake the inmost shrines of the seas.
Divine verdict is wordlessly pronounced.
Events, like gift foils, wrap my existence.
Existence, in turn, is wrapped by Providence.
The time I got from eternity made me a part of you,
as my desire flared like the blazing galaxy of the cosmos,
I was keen to see the day my dreams would come true,
when your love will pull me though the void of oneness.
The sense of yearning came in the zero hour of awakening,
soaring on the dreaming wings of the silenced time,
stalled in my sky where you glided like a consumed star,
its catching cadence created a surreal symphony in my heart.
The rhythm of celestial music harmonized with my essence,
where the ethereal emotions sank in the space of rhapsody
that wrapped you and me, blending us together forever,
consecrated the concept of capturing craving called love.
At the acme of surreal desire of magnetic longing,
the private space between us imploded to nothingness.
Our fused souls then turned into oblivious singularity,
suspended in the deep space of invisible obscurity.
As your captivating allure sucked my psyche within you,
bending my self-control and deforming my sense of time,
I gravitated with my stellar passion at fervent horizon of fusion,
lost myself within your infinite depth of black hole love.
A fleeting vision and aura
Hidden
Deep in the recess of my mind
Under the cover of darkness
Toying with my psyche
Reading my mind
Undisclosed thoughts
Inner monologues
Coaching
Guiding
Escaping reality for a fleeting moment
Feeling my soul spirit
Whispering
Softly,
So softly.
Words escaping from my lips,
Echoing,
Bouncing around like an electric current—
The jumble of my brain,
Like a jigsaw puzzle,
Searching desperately for a missing piece.
A link—
Broken.
The silence screams.
Empty.
A hole where my heart used to be.
I've always had the sneaking suspicion I'd never grow old.
I'm decaying prematurely,
slowly rotting in my core with every mind-numbing day.
"Why must every good thing get ruined?"
Home is no longer where happy is.
So why have you staked your claim on my psyche?
Cold blue tile is the foundation from which two children build their world.
I can discern from it nothing but terrifying probabilities.
Everything has an end.
Here we are timeless.
Poems selected (some from this account, some from another, some never posted):
1. Blue Marker Castles
2. Decaying Prematurely
3. Saturday, December 22nd
4. Words I'll Never Say
5. ComeHoming - Matthew 15:4
6. On Cybercoercion
7. Airport Cherubs
8. Winter's Warning
9. Who am I without achievement?
10. Nothing really changes in an airport
The long fun bantering conversations
Eye to eye
Lazer beams
Side by side
In the crowd
Walking into the evening glow
Over the glasses of umerock and namachuu
The smooth and calm sway of the train
Our reflections in the window
Talking until there was only
That last train
That last stop
Where it was only us
When it was only us
Us two
Laying down on the grass
Near the river
Side by side
Content in each other’s presence
Thinking back,
I realize that I’ve seen this scene before
From a direct, top view perspective
A year?? Perhaps a few months ago
My psyche somehow
Subconsciously
Somehow always knew
Meant to be, was this moment?You don’t need to try so hard to be
Oh, so cool
Oh, so hardcore
Until
Once I snap back a witty remark
His baby face scrunches into the cutest laugh
He just can’t hold it in
His hand, warm
Wrapping mine
Different yet similar scars
I think we both know
That this isn’t
Casual
Oh no
Much more than that
Oh, not so typical
No need to try too hard
No need to force it
Flowing naturally
As the tide goes
I feel sluggish
can barely move through the sludge and mud
burdened with the woes of the world
turn off the news! my soul shrieks at me
it will bog you down
until you are stuck in a tar pit of unhappiness
This idea has merit
but am I ready to give up my horrible feelings?
gloom and doom sometimes works for me
I reach for a newspaper,
turning it to the obituaries
“not that!” screams my psyche
I do not care
I am tired of having my soul tell me what to do.
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