Imaginary FriendI once had a friend.
That was made of pretend,
Who's only friend was me.
We played all alone,
Just all on our own.
Down on the hills,
And the trees.
We ran through the woods,
Jumped in the hills,
And played in the dark,
Because we lived for the thrills.
We went on our journeys,
And time would stand still.
The world would change,
Because it bowed to our will.
Then came the days
My friend started to fade.
We no longer spoke,
We just sat in the shade.
And as we sat silent
We looked at the sky .
My friend left for the last time,
Without a goodbye.
I guess the fact is.
They were no longer shy.
I once had a friend,
I thought was made of pretend.
Who supposedly no one could see.
So I sit and I wait,
Pretending their late.
Alone with no guarantee.
Hoping and saying ,
Broken ButterfliesI opened my mouth and coughed out the wingsBroken Butterflies2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Throwing up the colors,
From once beautiful things.
They crawl up my throat,
And pry through my teeth,
Revealing the darkness,
I've hid underneath.
Her words echo in my head,
I try to stand.
But fall instead.
They no longer had that fluttery feel.
I guess the love had lost its appeal.
I cough and clutch at the hole in my chest.
Is this just love at its best?
She said she hates the world.
But I know she loves it so,
I have seen her on the hill,
With the evening afterglow.
She feeds them with my beating heart
Like the sweetest tart.
While clutching at the hole in her chest,
Causing them to swarm in unrest.
Their wings are black and broken
Like words unspoken,
They flutter by silently
She stands atop the hill secluded.
While I watch her from the gate.
Next to the forgotten roads,
In the evening when it's late.
Passed where yellow flowers grow,
With all our secrets kept in the glow.
one step forward, two steps aheadSoftly, slowly.one step forward, two steps ahead2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The grains tumble on down.
Except for a whisper,
they don't dare make a sound.
Step by step
We move away from the past.
like steady drops of sand,
Being viewed from stained glass.
Softly and slow
Drop by drop
forced to step and never stop.
We slowly fade away
Like sand in a broken hour glass.
Always on different paths,
We may only brush by.
Never to touch,
Until the day we die.
Sky FallIt’s always when it’s raining...Sky Fall2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She calls me on the phone.
Her voice worried and hysterical,
Compelling me to get home.
The sky is falling…
That everything’s coming down.
She can feel the whole world crying,
And she’s afraid she going to drown.
Hiding under an umbrella.
Isolated on her bed.
Maybe to keep the rain out,
Or the rumors that have spread.
Trying to ignore them,
Like the voices in her head.
She shuts her eyes to scream,
But silent raindrops fall
That one day,
The clouds might go away.
it leaves me stifled and choked,
When even on the sunny days,
it makes no sense,
that she's always soaked.
In the night.
She wakes to rain,
Hiding under an umbrella in fright.
Like the downfall causes her pain.
She tries to be brave,
Peeking up at the skies.
But she cant help herself,
So she just hides and cries.
and she says
I know i'm lost,
and I've almost lost it all.
BeautyBeauty rose out of that silent sea,Beauty2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Her eyes were tepid with wild thunder,
And then she turned and looked at me.
Me; a meagre man who knew no lady fair,
Nor one of care as she snaps my heart asunder.
Beauty flew up to that sinister sky,
Her lips were dark with mad desire,
And then she turned and started to cry.
Cry; a crude curse who knew no mortal smile,
Nor one so vile as she scars my aura in fire.
Beauty stood up on that scarlet skin,
Her locks were rouge with quiet rain,
And then she turned and walked on sin.
Sin; a sordid spirit who knew no lover true,
Nor one in clue as she saves me from my pain.
MarionetteThe strings dig deep into her veins.Marionette2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She moves with them,
To dull the pain.
A painted face,
With a printed smile,
Her emotions left unversitile.
She dances alone, secluded,
Forlorn and deluded.
And only for her twisted master.
A mental crafter,
A vile bastard.
but this is a show.
the people can see it
the people they know,
this is no secret.
their eyes glazed over
like shes no longer there
ignoring her existence,
she finds comfort in despair.
welcome to the show.
on stage, a girl
who you might as well know.
Only I can see the tears,
And only I know all her fears.
I flick my fingers to the right,
On my command she stands up right.
I flick my finger to the left.
She'd murder all the ones she left.
she dances with a smile.
that does not reach the eyes,
it looks so sick and vile
a soul that believes its lies.
Maybe its love,
i've heard it's supposed to ache.
Or maybe she's insane,
because even the strong can break.
I don't know the reasons,
Or why she's bound and cha
A Letter to No OneThe clock ticked against silence,A Letter to No One2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Upon the cemetery of a room.
Deep sighs weave through the air,
Meager warmth in compressed despair.
Moths fall prey to a musty lampshade,
An opened window to Night’s gloom.
Thoughts dance like ripples on water,
And clouds on the hiding moon.
A lullaby plays from the gentle sound,
Made by scratching pen on paper.
One story told too many times,
Is voiced from words created.
Though this time revived from lies,
A phoenix forms the ugly truth.
The pen rolls from the wooden desk,
Having served its final use.
Old dusty dolls and teddy bears,
Watched helplessly through glassy eyes.
No star showed to twinkle hope,
Not one ray from the busy moon.
On the clock’s tick, a rope was hanging.
On the clock’s tock, a form was thrashing.
A tired, hoarse throat gasps for life,
Cut abruptly by the Reaper’s scythe.
Poems on the shelf with an unknown author.
Paintings on the wall left unsigned.
Just another heart trapped in horror,
An unfinished l
Mind.Darkness surrounds me,Mind.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Shadows surround you.
The present threatens me,
as the past did to you.
Your memories, you keep at bay,
but your thoughts just seem to fade away.
Your murdurous thirst is always there
and you seem to be grabbing at your hair.
My thoughts aren't right
my head's too tight,
I have to fight
just not take flight.
I want it to end
I want it to end
Please will somebody help me then?
It's not to late
Never to late
say it'll be alright
but we know it's not alright.
Because of your past,
you will certainly fade last.
You will not find a friend in this world.
We are not one
but one and the same.
Our minds have turned against us.
Chenbeard the PirateChapter 1:Chenbeard the Pirate1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I remember waking up, with the distinct metallic taste of blood swilling about my teeth. I spat a red glob of the stuff onto the stone floor and tried very hard, through the pounding of my skull, to determine why I had been left in such a poor state of affairs. Most of my memories had been jumbled up, no doubt by the violence inflicted upon me prior to my arrival. My thoughts were a nonsensical sequence of colors and sounds--most of which made no sense. I could recall several important bits and pieces though: a voice, one that was calling out for me and a warm hand, reaching toward the distance. Was that hand mine? I wondered, as the memory faded away. How exactly had I come to arrive in this place, that alone was food for thought.
My internal rumination however was soon broken by the sound of a rusted metallic gate, screeching it's lungs out as it attempted to open the way. I could not see the whining mechanism, but I could tell that it was defin
I Comfort MyselfWith a warm drink, whispering secrets to my own reflection.I Comfort Myself2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The struggles that plague me, though none may know,
Are only for the ears of my quiet mirror, who smiles
Softly, warmly and with care. He tells me, I'm fine
I've done well for now and soon I may finally rest.
Though the silence continues to press upon me,
Weighing upon my soul like an iron crate.
Still I find comfort in whispering secrets,
If only to my own reflection - holding a warm drink...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 17th October 2012
Trapped Within MyselfHelp meTrapped Within Myself2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in hopes, dreams, expectations
in fears, doubts, and loss
Someone help me
Set me free
I can't do it by myself
So What Do I Do?If only I could read your mindSo What Do I Do?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If only I could interpret you emotions
Understand what you're going through
See through your eyes
Hear through your ears
Feel through your heart
If only I knew how to help you
But I can't
And I don't
And it's killing me
So what do I do?
Missing Pieces.I am a missing piece. Something that someone needs.Missing Pieces.2 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
But at the same time, I feel so incomplete.
I’ve wandered way too far, wondered for far too long
Am I a missing piece? Or a piece that won’t belong?
Is it possible I’m damaged and not missing at all?
That I’m just as dysfunctional as everybody else?
Pretending to be perfect never softened a single fall.
But neither did admitting that you’re broken and flawed.
A broken missing piece. Is that all I’m meant to be?
There is no master plan that includes the likes of me.
Being all alone, it’s a hurt that will not cease.
A hundred thousand years from now
I’ll still be
NaPoWriMo- Day 5She used to try and catch butterfliesNaPoWriMo- Day 52 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
until she realized their beauty
rubbed off on her fingers;
but she will always be loving you
with those digits.
20 years from now
when even the love on her arms
Gutter GirlGutter girl washed her dress,Gutter Girl1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In dirty water to look her best.
Combed her hair back with a comb,
Made from blue birds ribcage bone.
Bought a nice dress from a witch,
With human hair in every stich.
and also gave her glass kept shoes,
That shattered if were ever used.
Gutter girl went to the ball.
A party hosted at the mall.
Wanted to dance, to learn and sing.
Find what romance and love could bring.
But she was stopped
Right at the door
For she was too weird,
And too poor.
She was tossed out to the street,
Her shoes then shattered beneath her feet.
The dress began to fall apart
Each peace ripped raw, straight from her heart
The sky struck midnight.
And she went back,
Underneath and into black.
Gently shielded by the rain,
She goes back down into her drain.
Picks the glass out of her feet ,
Hangs her dress up in defeat.
Kindly thanked her grandma witch,
And bales the rain out of her ditch.
Gutter girl took the day.
To gently wash the pain away...
here lie the hopes and dreams of an idiot like me"i've taken up smoking."here lie the hopes and dreams of an idiot like me1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
after all, i needed something to fulfill my oral fixation, just like you did, but i guess you found a man for that, didn't you?
no, i've never been one to like the taste of alcohol. i'm the fat girl chaser. and you'd be the one to tell me i can't do that now with my burnt out lungs. i just kneel and pray to the god who created condoms and cotton sheets, thankful that my other body parts work.
"that also happens to be the god that created lies, lung cancer, and monogamy," you would say. it's too hot for arguments like this. i light up another and you sneer. god, how i missed that.
you'd think we were an old married couple, but alas we were just a couple, and you were the married one. and i was the one who told you i didn't need you, which in retrospect is funny because i ended up not needing you and needing cigarettes. i had to add this to my list of things to pray for.
the one thing i never prayed for was the future, and this was because the truth belonged with
Always DefeatedI just run; faster than the wind. I can't stay. I won't.Always Defeated2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
All of this hurts
To remain standing, when all I am, is torn down.
Can you hear my screams?
Or just the silence
As I take a step into the unknown, will you hold my hand? Will you ever believe in me?
I keep trying but, all those words spoken, make me want to cry; to give up and to let go of all I know.
And you know the pain never stops. It's like a never ending empty void, which is sucking me in and I wonder when this will be done.
Will I be the one who won?
Or will I be the loser everyone knows me to be?
ThorThe Northern Lights fluttered like the sails behind my head, whispering between strands of hair. Bleeding letters had been carved with a rusty blade on my palms. I was scattering ashes on the waves riding on a black ship when I heard the sound of the hunting horn.Thor1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The sons of gods with suns of molten brass on their helms broke through the mists of time with a mighty roar. The leaves of the sacred groves fluttered as they raised flags with heraldic bears. Like beasts wearing the stars on their necks they fulfilled the prophecy and turned the waters red.
Seers in the shape of stags with golden wheels on their haunches locked horns by the surging sea. The laments of the dead echoed from the village beyond the waves as I saw the smoke rising from the horizon.
I swore burning snakes of thunder and the lands beyond were covered in a stampede of black horses breathing fire. Hail swirled over the dark green wings of spruces and made my cape rise. I was the light on the sw
you could read to me foreveryour vocal cords collapsed withyou could read to me forever1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
the heaviness of your words,
repeating the same exorcised
truth that you caught over the
phone when you moaned to me.
it took a thousand splendid suns
for us to see eye to eye, for you
to know why I weep over book
pages and not people and why
i keep some stories tucked between
my alcoholism and faltering acid
trips. your voice and mine have
the same cadence and we're caught
in the ceasefire between our cords.
i've always been too exhausted, out
of my mind to tell that each
oscillation we've let our voices
take has been plucked better
than a million dancing beams.
the human syntaxmottledthe human syntax1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
there are carbon copies walking the streets
cut/and/paste people who
deracinated from scriptured roots rarely
ever realize that history is always unfolding right before them
or that somewhere in the bubbling
ooze of their jurassic hearts
a pasquinade has sprung
an unintended flood of reasoning
and merry mutants will come out to play
in scorched supernova shadows
while predation in the bio-mass
reached its all-time lowest
as shown in graphs designed to demonstrate
*Ideas we set in ink*2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Do not mirror reality.
No matter how hard we think,
Our words are not actuality.
In writing, all that one can do
Is wish upon an asterisk
And hope that wish comes true.
AsphodelA beckoning:Asphodel1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
watercolour sky shrinking,
too late, teeth fall; pearls
from a broken string.
Blink and the moon ignites—
but the sheets are still
Autumnal InsomniaIt's an Autumn night. The cold comes cuttingAutumnal Insomnia2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Across the seas and the Isle is in winter's for-pang.
I am still at my desk in sweats and fevers, pacing
Over long due essays and the morning's march.
The space on the wall is screaming at me
From where the picture hanged upon the arch
Above the study door. My phone has not rang
In days. In no way could you call me free.
Is it late or early or both? I cannot see
Past the window's blank abyss and I delve
Into another long since read book and look to find
The clock is already far past twelve.
The creaking grows with roaring zephyrs
Of night-breath, the gate creaks in torment
And the dark and twisted line of the tree
Seems horrifying to me.
I close the curtain and shut the door
And pick my book up from off of the floor.
I look and see the clock is now past three
And it matter not in the least to me
And I pray to the Man of Galilee.
Lead-lined eyes and a slurring soul
And the hours awake take their toll
And I fall asleep.
bursting with lightat heart we are all flood-worshippers,bursting with light1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
a fetishization of water
carrying some stray seed.
i am an ambassador
a sunbeam unable to disturb
the arrythmic breathing of your hypnopompic nightmare
a slave to what neither i nor any of you
will ever describe.
open the gates
the sun will melt
the moment you understand.
(and i'll shed my body
into a cloudy flock of rays
on this faraway hilltop)
(you can't see me)
i am but less than one percent
of the sky solution
drink it all