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FEAR:

Frantically he scrambles away from the dark
Eager to be free of his waking nightmare
Acting only upon the instinct within him;
Reminded constantly that he is prey

For some time he hides in the pervasive shadows—
Earnestly praying that he will not be discovered
A single sound is all it takes to jar him;
Running from a creature that he can barely see

From head to toe it is certainly monstrous
Enshrouded in an aura of absolute repugnance
As the acid drips from its cruel jaws,
Rapidly dissolving the ground below

Fearful, he cowers, beneath boxes and cardboard,
Escaping away into a tiny corner of his mind
Alone with only his anxiety for company—
Resting for what might be his very last

From birth, Ever-present, Always Remembered
such is the nature of FEAR…

-

Writing poetry again Doctor Cecil? That's good!
You'll need a hobby to be working in an environment like this…


-Chen Yuan Wen, 9th October 2012
If you enjoyed this piece, please take a moment to fave it ^^

Note: This poem is part of a series, the next one is here [link]

If you'd like to view the second episode of WordofChen Live to hear my reading and singing style go here: [link]

Author's Comment:

So my dear friends, THIS is the secret project I have been working on.

See, several people in the past have criticized my style of writing, saying that it would be better with proper punctuation. I fully agree with that, but my writing style is also designed to be simple so even if I did use full punctuation there are few changes. However, it seems to satisfy the Edgar Allan Poe fans and that's alright with me :3 I decided to pick up his general punctuation format and I will probably do a parody on his work 'The Raven' in future, but for now, I want to tell you about this little series I've been working on.

This poem, as you can imagine, is the first in the Liquefaction series of poetry that will be released over the course of this week. It is an experiment in a more modern fictional style of poetry writing and also an experiment in having a story within a story.

The poem will tell a story obviously, but at the same time...notice some extra lines separated down the bottom? Doctor Cecil's story will be quite another matter so please look forward to me developing it...I think you'll get quite a kick out of this particular technique :3

Thank you all for reading and please look forward to more ^^

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

Other Poems by Me:
She's Not Your Toy She's Not Your Toy:

Mmm, it's okay sweetie
Just stay quiet
It'll all be over soon...

Creaking springs and quiet eyes
Cold without emotion
The smell of fear is mixed with sweat
Breath like a churning ocean

The waves and tide will push and pull
as water fills the cave
The heart longs to stop itself
when there is nothing left to save

Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear Jenna
Happy birthday to you...

A shock of pain brings her back to the present
The muscular form above her contracting in the dark
She remembers now that her limbs are pinned
but she would not move them anyway...

Happy birthday sweeth
Sorry I'm A Man Sorry I'm A Man:

He stands there naked
A blank-faced label
No features
No face
He is not an individual
He is exactly what you make him to be

The product of your misguided hate
The product of your personal prejudice
Caught blind and shackled
Voice stripped and throat cut
On knees and hands
He crawls beneath a slanderous hail

"Let they who are without sin, be the first to cast a stone"
Then you must all be innocent, unblackened and pure

Instead what I see
Is not angel wings and a white halo
Instead what I see
Is your silent profanity
Twisted obscene mask of humanity

Beneath the righteous sword of a figure of justice
Lies a
Where Angels Play Where Angels Play:

A lonely spark appears before me tonight
amongst the struggles deep inside of me...
Should I give in, will I breathe in?

How much more can I be forced to take
before my soul breaks?
Shards crashing into me
letting me know I am alive
If only
I am barely breathing...

The moon lights my pathway
deep in dark, where we will fade
I've walked past the archway
Where angels will play...

The warmest touch, upon my skin
Wings that glow with sacred light, from deep within
They have come to take me back, to where I've been
Gone away into the winds, my voice forever lingering

Do I alone escape this and find my peace
wi
Why I Hate My Life Why I Hate My Life:

Despite the fact that I'm a trained professional
I have to work odd-jobs making deliveries on a motorcycle

The only girl who I ever loved
was just using me as a replacement

The only girl that actually likes me
runs a bar and took over my house

I don't have the guts to kick her out
so I end up sleeping at an abandoned church

I've recently picked up a strange rash
it hurts and I have to wear sleeves to cover it

My only friends are a guy that never comes out from a forest
and a girl that's always looking to steal the meager possessions I have

Everything sucks really
because the one person who cared about me
is


Other Literature by Me:
Mercenary 1-1 MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si
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No comments have been added yet.

This is for the Reader:

With the soft touch of his fingers
The piano begins to play, a heart untouched for so long
Bares its secret melody...


-

When I first started out I couldn't avoid just bein' cold
My life revolved the things that I was always told—
I never knew the warmth of standing up to take a bow
It was not a joy that I would ever-ever be allowed
Through all the days I feared that everything would disappear
You held me up and held me close like I was something dear
I never knew I had a part of me that you would like
I guess that's what you feel when you can't even see the light…

-

So this is the only way, that I can—
Properly express my thanks
For everything you've done for me
This my way of thanks
My way of thanks
My way of thanks


-

I can't remember how many times I said I'd quit the game
It felt like I was hitting blocks and always feeling lame
But then you taught me that no matter what, you were here
You read the worst of my works and put away my fear
And now I'm sitting here, ab-so-lute-ly clear
I know exactly what I should say to you my dear…

-

That this is the only way, that I can—
Properly express my thanks
For everything you've done for me,
This my way of thanks
My way of thanks
My way of thanks


-

To every reader out there, thank you for your support!
You're the one that makes the artist


-Chen Yuan Wen, 12th October 2012
If you enjoyed this piece, please take a moment to fave it ^^

If you'd like to view the second episode of WordofChen Live to hear my reading and singing style go here: [link]

Author's Comment:

Sooo...most of you probably know what happened today. I'm waiting for DA to get back to me with an answer about whether or not messages can just randomly vanish, but I know that they probably can't be retrieve :/

That said, I felt reaaaally bad about it because I'm someone who's used to thanking his supporters. Although it may take me weeks to get around to doing anything...it still feels REALLY bad if you don't get a chance to properly respond to people who like your works.

So, I started thinking about what I could do about it and I decided I would try a combination, song + rap + poem and put it up here. A little thank you piece for each and every one of my readers and supports.

Some artists like to think they're good because they are the ones producing the work, but that's incorrect. Any business student knows that the product is only as valuable as the consumers deem it to be. Therefore, to everyone who continues to read and support my work...you're really all very important to me and that's why I take replies and other stuff so seriously while other artists might question why I'm so hung up about it.

I felt that until I posted a piece like this, I would not be able to make more proper work ^^; So hopefully you enjoyed it. The bold is poetry, normal is rap and the italics are sung (chorus, though its probably obvious from the writing style).

Again, thank you all for reading

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

Other Poems by Me:
FEAR FEAR:

Frantically he scrambles away from the dark
Eager to be free of his waking nightmare
Acting only upon the instinct within him;
Reminded constantly that he is prey

For some time he hides in the pervasive shadows—
Earnestly praying that he will not be discovered
A single sound is all it takes to jar him;
Running from a creature that he can barely see

From head to toe it is certainly monstrous
Enshrouded in an aura of absolute repugnance
As the acid drips from its cruel jaws,
Rapidly dissolving the ground below

Fearful, he cowers, beneath boxes and cardboard,
Escaping away into a tiny corner of his mind
Alone with only
She's Not Your Toy She's Not Your Toy:

Mmm, it's okay sweetie
Just stay quiet
It'll all be over soon...

Creaking springs and quiet eyes
Cold without emotion
The smell of fear is mixed with sweat
Breath like a churning ocean

The waves and tide will push and pull
as water fills the cave
The heart longs to stop itself
when there is nothing left to save

Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear Jenna
Happy birthday to you...

A shock of pain brings her back to the present
The muscular form above her contracting in the dark
She remembers now that her limbs are pinned
but she would not move them anyway...

Happy birthday sweeth
Sorry I'm A Man Sorry I'm A Man:

He stands there naked
A blank-faced label
No features
No face
He is not an individual
He is exactly what you make him to be

The product of your misguided hate
The product of your personal prejudice
Caught blind and shackled
Voice stripped and throat cut
On knees and hands
He crawls beneath a slanderous hail

"Let they who are without sin, be the first to cast a stone"
Then you must all be innocent, unblackened and pure

Instead what I see
Is not angel wings and a white halo
Instead what I see
Is your silent profanity
Twisted obscene mask of humanity

Beneath the righteous sword of a figure of justice
Lies a
Where Angels Play Where Angels Play:

A lonely spark appears before me tonight
amongst the struggles deep inside of me...
Should I give in, will I breathe in?

How much more can I be forced to take
before my soul breaks?
Shards crashing into me
letting me know I am alive
If only
I am barely breathing...

The moon lights my pathway
deep in dark, where we will fade
I've walked past the archway
Where angels will play...

The warmest touch, upon my skin
Wings that glow with sacred light, from deep within
They have come to take me back, to where I've been
Gone away into the winds, my voice forever lingering

Do I alone escape this and find my peace
wi


Other Literature by Me:
Mercenary 1-1 MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si
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No comments have been added yet.

Where Angels Play:

A lonely spark appears before me tonight
amongst the struggles deep inside of me...
Should I give in, will I breathe in?

How much more can I be forced to take
before my soul breaks?
Shards crashing into me
letting me know I am alive
If only
I am barely breathing...

The moon lights my pathway
deep in dark, where we will fade
I've walked past the archway
Where angels will play...

The warmest touch, upon my skin
Wings that glow with sacred light, from deep within
They have come to take me back, to where I've been
Gone away into the winds, my voice forever lingering

Do I alone escape this and find my peace
without concern for what is left behind
Even if I could close my eyes in endless rest
The thought of you keeps me breathing...


The angel that leads me, deep in dark, where I seem to fade;
The lonely spark that keeps me, is the warmth of your heart...

-Chen Yuan Wen, 30th September 2012
If you enjoyed it, don't forget to fave it ^^

If you'd like to hear this poem read and sung, please check out the second episode of WordofChen Live here: [link]

Author's Comment:

Alright so, as you might notice the quality of this poem is not 100% as compared to my previous works. Reason being its the first poem of its type, a hybrid poem that can be sung as well as read.

Obviously this creates deep difficulty for the writer, because the way something is sung allows for alterations in grammar and lengthy pauses that cause reading to be badly disturbed.

That said, the only way to overcome this is to compromise between the two so I hope this poem was able to do that. Please keep this in mind when critiquing.

Other than that, it is also an early birthday present for :icondarlingangel0565:, her birthday is 1st of October, but I hope she enjoys this ^^

Happy early birthday Angel ^^ WHOO!

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

Other Poems by Me:
Why I Hate My Life Why I Hate My Life:

Despite the fact that I'm a trained professional
I have to work odd-jobs making deliveries on a motorcycle

The only girl who I ever loved
was just using me as a replacement

The only girl that actually likes me
runs a bar and took over my house

I don't have the guts to kick her out
so I end up sleeping at an abandoned church

I've recently picked up a strange rash
it hurts and I have to wear sleeves to cover it

My only friends are a guy that never comes out from a forest
and a girl that's always looking to steal the meager possessions I have

Everything sucks really
because the one person who cared about me
is
My Beautiful Filth My Beautiful Filth:

We'll start with the rose petals
scattered lavishly across the bed
A symbolic collage of my broken thoughts
like memories crushed and thrown into the winds
they lie where they fall, forever forgotten...

Tacks and nails shall line the floor!
A perfect representation of my painful steps
To walk forward was to suffer
to stand still was to endure
Like the insults thrown at me, like the physical abuse
they drive their way into my skin and remain embedded
Unable to be removed except by force

And now comes the masterpiece, the perfect finishing touch
A wall of words and photographs depicting my sorrows and greivance
Whispering to Lucifer Whispering to Lucifer:

Humans are such wonderous creatures
even when granted the gift of knowledge
They fall prey to their own insecurities
slaves to their own fears and paranoia

Such is the father's gift of free will...

Yes my lord, I understand
but do you not feel disappointment?
The great bringer of light has condemned himself to an eternity of darkness
simply so his father's children may roam free

Without adversity, there can be no acension...

Ah, such a philosophical statement from you
I am well aware that humans must experience both extremes
Without tasting joy it would be impossible to understand sorrow
Yet I fear that my
Letting Go of You Letting Go of You:

You abandoned me in the past
without so much as a proper goodbye
One day you simply chose to walk out the door
and you never did come back...

I was angry then, hurting badly
I wondered if I was in some way inadequate
I wondered if you left because I am so easy to despise
and eventually my sorrow turned to anger

I wanted to become great
to show you that you made the wrong choice
to take my strength and throw it in your face
just so you would regret it

But then I saw how happy you were...

In the time we've been apart
You've made a new life for yourself
You've found someone who loves and treasures you
and upon


Other Literature by Me:
Mercenary 1-1 MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si
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Winterfall:

Warm blood drips upon the pearl white snow
freezing into droplets that shine and glow
Red like the colour of his once livid cheeks
It frames the sculpture I have carved on this peak

An artwork made so terrifyingly sublime
I believe that such a thing would be condemned as a crime
But woe betide the unfortunate soul
For the poor man stumbled into the freezing cold...

I remember his features in his moment of death
Hope and despair, intermingled as one
A shine of reality as he opens the door
and steps into the hell from the days of yore

From then he has passed into my loving care
His body as a shell and so I lay it bare
I paint it with colours, to frame the moment of death
and lay it with the others in the mountain's breast

Here in the silence, within the womb of the earth
You can view the masterpiece that I have birthed
A giant of corpses, sewn with flesh
Tattooed with the faces of eternal rest...

"Ah, indeed I am a genius..."

-Chen Yuan Wen, 23rd August 2012
Fer those o' ye who don't know yet. Chen is workin' tirelessly inbetween his studies t' come up with new stories an' new techniques fer writin' poetry.

Bein' a writer is his dream an' so I hope ye'll all enjoy this new piece that he's produced. It's a revisit o' his old rhyming style with a slightly different arrangement in structure.

Let us know how it was received ^^ Yer comments will make him work much harder :3

-Co-captain Hayes :iconlugialuvr13:
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It Came From The Dark:

Amongst the ashes, swirling from the darkness of the pit,

Emerged a hand, dragging a battered body across the rocks.

Blood leaked from the wounds so callously self-inflicted,

And teeth ground with a focused determination and seething anger.

It cared not for the warm rubies - staining the jagged rocks,

It cared not for the sensation of pain...

All that it remembered was a dream, An obsession -

One that drove it ever higher; ignoring all else!

Eventually it emerged from this shadowy hole, this dreary depth,

And in that moment, it learned of the truth.

For this creature, denied sunlight and warmth -

was me...





-Chen Yuan Wen, 11th December 2012
Faves, comments and shares are greatly appreciated. Each click of the fave button helps me rank for popularity so if you like my work, please take a moment to click. Thank you! :3

If you'd like to hear me do some live comedy, answer questions and read poems LIVE then check out the latest two episodes of my show:

Episode 5: [link]

Episode 6: [link]


Author's Comment:

Arrr me hearties,

I'm back from HELL indeed. The days before me trip back to singapore were like being put through the fire and roasted over a blistering inferno. I experienced much and plenty of tha' is gonna come out in me works.

As ye'll note, pirate accent is back, full explanation t' come in me journal later, but I realised basically tha' th' accent is part of the fun, even if it can be a little tough t' handle eh?

Now then, I'm about t' start me hyper release of all different types of poetry and this be but th' first of many t' come. I swear on me honour as CHENBEARD TH' PIRATE. I will blow yer minds with what I've seen of a modern hell...Dante, is a little behind th' times.

Enjoy this starter piece t' get yer tongues wet...more will come, soon enough...

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

Other Poems by Me:
Alone but AliveAlone but Alive:

Oh here I am standing,
A lost soul is landing.

The coldest December,
Can you still remember?

Do you even hear me?
There's no one around me!

Oh shadow that I see,
The void right behind me.

Yet still I am breathing;
Yet still I am feeling.

The coldest sensation,
Oh worthless creation!

Are you still crying?
Oh why are you lying - abandoned and cold

-

Cold like what was left of soul,
Made of all the life you stole.
Walk divine but made of sin,
Worm of hatred squrim within.

Sin of lust and sin of pride,
Lash the tongue that last has lied.
Yours was silver with a promise,
Kiss of death and then you vomit.

Bu
You Have No Right To LiveYou Have No Right To Live:

Hey, what are you doing?
That's mine, now give it back.
You're stupid, you should just go die!

Okay, I'm sorry...

What, you failed again?
Just how much money do you think we're spending on this,
Do you think it just falls from the sky?
I can't believe you; and don't give me that look!
You better straighten up now you hear me
And if you keep looking like a dead fish,
I'm going to make you wish you were one.

I'm sorry...

Hey, being around you is driving me nuts,
You never want to do anything, you don't even care,
Why bother even breathing if you're going to act like you're dead!

I'm sorry!

You're
Pat
I Am A WriterI Am A Writer:

Gentlemen, today I speak to you
To convey an issue that has plagued the core of our community.
For so long have we been considered second-class;
To this day there are those who still believe that we are not artists.
But today is not about freedom, today is about honour,
Because there are many writers that still seek to shame us all...

I speak of those individuals, who take art from others.
Covers, photos, paintings, digital art, anime and manga.
It matters not where you draw your source from,
But every action impacts upon us as a community.
Why?

BECAUSE I AM A WRITER!

When I craft my works, when I write each and ev


Other Literature by Me:
The Good Critic's GuideThe Good Critic's Guide:
'
I. Introduction:

   I have noticed that many critics on DA tend to leave rather harsh and sometimes subjective critiques on the pages of the artists being critiqued. Their rationale for doing so is based on the concept that 'we shouldn't molly-coddle each other and instead "tell it like it is"'. However this type of critique reflects poorly on one who is critiquing as opposed to the one who is being critiqued and I will explain why throughout the course of this guide. In essence I hope to use this resource as a way of teaching potential critics how to properly focus their abilities and direct their critiques in a
Mercenary 1-1MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

My Beautiful Filth:

We'll start with the rose petals
scattered lavishly across the bed
A symbolic collage of my broken thoughts
like memories crushed and thrown into the winds
they lie where they fall, forever forgotten...

Tacks and nails shall line the floor!
A perfect representation of my painful steps
To walk forward was to suffer
to stand still was to endure
Like the insults thrown at me, like the physical abuse
they drive their way into my skin and remain embedded
Unable to be removed except by force

And now comes the masterpiece, the perfect finishing touch
A wall of words and photographs depicting my sorrows and greivances
The filthy shame of these long years and the pain which I've kept inside
Now I engrave it into this concrete canvas...
Let all the world know of what was done to me
even as I part from it...
For in death I swear they shall have no reprieve!

In life I wanted to be beautiful and in death I shall finally be so
For the weight of my hatred, the weight of my resolve
these feelings, this grudge, all of it shall emerge tonight
like a butterfly, finally free of its cocoon..

When the clock strikes midnight, in the quiet of the dark
a metallic barrel is set against my right temple
There are no regrets for me, nor the slightest shake in my finger
for my only thoughts are of the ultimate vengeance

And when you are alone in the night, warm and safe in your bed
When you hear the shadows creeping and shifting around you
Take a moment to remember those things that you did to me
and smile...
for I shall be smiling, right by your side...


-Chen Yuan Wen, 27th September 2012
If you enjoyed the evil, please take a moment to fave it ^^. Comments are also loved.

If you'd like to hear my reading style, please check out the first episode of WordofChen Live here: [link]

Author's Comment:

Now...recently I've been seeing plenty of depressing poems on DA. I've seen a boatload of stuff about 'suicide' or 'darkness' and weeeeell...

Let me put it this way, it was always the same thing over and over. Take the topic of 'suicide' for example. 'Slit wrists, hanged from a rope, pills to kill myself'

These were always the standard methods being cited over and over.

Some pieces were good because they really portrayed the hatred and the abuse...but it always falls flat if it ends with something...that has grown to be commonplace.

Now all of you know my style and you know that I LOVE being brutal when I write the dark stuff, but sometimes darkness has to be beautiful. The way in which hatred is portrayed cannot be so easily summed up the use of a razor blade to cut oneself...that's not hardcore enough.

To use a common slang, 'Go hard or go home'. I put myself in the mentality of someone who bore hatred for absolutely everything because of his own suffering and when I did that I discovered that an end without beauty...without something to make it really stand out, would not make my aggressors feel a thing.

However, if I painted the walls with my shames, if I SCREAMED my vengeance in writing and swore to come back as a demon that would haunt them in the night. Then, my death would have meaning. It would be in the papers, my harsh words of vengeance, the realistic descriptions of hell. They would feel the fear, even if they laugh about it in their own time...and finally, when they are alone...looking at their own reflection in the bathroom mirror, imagine their surprise when they see me standing there...smiling...right behind them. As they turn to face me...they find nothing there and when they turn back, their reflection has transformed into me and then I'll ask them:

'Why so serious son?'

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

P.S. This piece is entirely artistic in nature. So pleeeeeease do not send me notes asking 'you alright?' because if you do I'll just spend my day copypasting a reply saying, 'Yes I am, this is an art piece etc. etc.'

Other Poems by Me:
Whispering to Lucifer Whispering to Lucifer:

Humans are such wonderous creatures
even when granted the gift of knowledge
They fall prey to their own insecurities
slaves to their own fears and paranoia

Such is the father's gift of free will...

Yes my lord, I understand
but do you not feel disappointment?
The great bringer of light has condemned himself to an eternity of darkness
simply so his father's children may roam free

Without adversity, there can be no acension...

Ah, such a philosophical statement from you
I am well aware that humans must experience both extremes
Without tasting joy it would be impossible to understand sorrow
Yet I fear that my
Letting Go of You Letting Go of You:

You abandoned me in the past
without so much as a proper goodbye
One day you simply chose to walk out the door
and you never did come back...

I was angry then, hurting badly
I wondered if I was in some way inadequate
I wondered if you left because I am so easy to despise
and eventually my sorrow turned to anger

I wanted to become great
to show you that you made the wrong choice
to take my strength and throw it in your face
just so you would regret it

But then I saw how happy you were...

In the time we've been apart
You've made a new life for yourself
You've found someone who loves and treasures you
and upon
This is All About You This Is All About You:

Most people giving you advice, might take a quote from a book

Most people giving you advice, have never had a real look

So from someone who's been watching, let me lay my heart bare

I want to show you all the special things, about the girl for whom I care

She always does her very best, no matter how tough the task

Even when she's struggling, she puts on a brave mask

She's always trying to learn new things, just for a chance to make you proud

She can be a little bit quiet, but I think that's better than being loud

She's not the very best in sports, I know she can be kind of a klutz

But she smiles and goes on an
Oppa Pirate Style! Oppa Pirate Style:

Chen Chen Chen Chen, Chen is pirate style!
Chen Chen Chen Chen, Chen is pirate style!

Stick-on tattoos and a Captain's hat makes me a player
My pirate theme is 'Raining Blood' by a band that's known as Slayer
But let's realise the fact: I've got no beard, I'm just that cool
I'm like Monkey D. Luffy when I drown in a kiddie pool

Cause I'm a guy!
The type that sails along the seven seas, a pirate guy
With a black fedora hat I use to tease, a pirate guy
Got so much swag I cure the love disease, a pirate guy
I'm a pirate guy!

So heyo- Pretty ladies I need to know...I need to know
Would you get aboard my ship and dr


Other Literature by Me:
Mercenary 1-1 MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si
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Letting Go of You:

You abandoned me in the past
without so much as a proper goodbye
One day you simply chose to walk out the door
and you never did come back...

I was angry then, hurting badly
I wondered if I was in some way inadequate
I wondered if you left because I am so easy to despise
and eventually my sorrow turned to anger

I wanted to become great
to show you that you made the wrong choice
to take my strength and throw it in your face
just so you would regret it

But then I saw how happy you were...

In the time we've been apart
You've made a new life for yourself
You've found someone who loves and treasures you
and upon seeing that, my anger faded...

Your smile, that which I fell in love with
is more radiant now than the morning sun
a gentle blush upon your fair cheeks
takes my breath away, just as it did so long ago

Of course, I  don't hold any hope for us to be friends
I don't think that it would be appropriate for me to come back
but perhaps one day, if I am famous enough
If I am allowed to perform upon a grand stage

Will you watch me dance for you, one last time?

-Chen Yuan Wen, 22nd September 2012
If you enjoyed this piece, take a moment to click the fave button ^^

Author's Comment:

My friends I am back!

And I noticed that so many relationship poems that talk about how the other party made a mistake, how they're all depressed, etc. etc.

Unfortunately, life has a much wider spectrum. There is an entire RANGE of emotions, not just being depressed.

What about the recovery? What about moving on?

This poem is ABOUT those feelings that we forget, the fact that depression isn't the end, rather you do move on and eventually you can smile. Do not wallow in despair, because the light returns at the next dawn ^^

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

Other Poems by Me:
This is All About You This Is All About You:

Most people giving you advice, might take a quote from a book

Most people giving you advice, have never had a real look

So from someone who's been watching, let me lay my heart bare

I want to show you all the special things, about the girl for whom I care

She always does her very best, no matter how tough the task

Even when she's struggling, she puts on a brave mask

She's always trying to learn new things, just for a chance to make you proud

She can be a little bit quiet, but I think that's better than being loud

She's not the very best in sports, I know she can be kind of a klutz

But she smiles and goes on an
Oppa Pirate Style! Oppa Pirate Style:

Chen Chen Chen Chen, Chen is pirate style!
Chen Chen Chen Chen, Chen is pirate style!

Stick-on tattoos and a Captain's hat makes me a player
My pirate theme is 'Raining Blood' by a band that's known as Slayer
But let's realise the fact: I've got no beard, I'm just that cool
I'm like Monkey D. Luffy when I drown in a kiddie pool

Cause I'm a guy!
The type that sails along the seven seas, a pirate guy
With a black fedora hat I use to tease, a pirate guy
Got so much swag I cure the love disease, a pirate guy
I'm a pirate guy!

So heyo- Pretty ladies I need to know...I need to know
Would you get aboard my ship and dr
Aren't You Ashamed Yet? Aren't You Ashamed Yet?:

A Mask
Truly an object of mystique and mystery
A simple device, with a painted layer
That conceals a face of rotting worms

Oh, I'm sorry, was I supposed to overlook it?
Let me rephrase it in a more appropriate manner
You are a cowardly, pathetic, miserable, filthy
Unintelligent, soul-sucking, perfidious, bag of rotting worms

You who once held my respect, you who were once my friend
you shared in my secrets and you shared in my dreams
But in the end, it was the lies
The horrible, filthy lies that spew forth from your tainted lips...

I guess it was a simple decision
I had no need to keep up this facade
an
Immortal Butterfly Immortal Butterfly:

I remember the Immortal Butterfly
Translucent wings that drank from the sky
Glittering dust would fall with every flap
Like warm tears dripped upon my tiny back

I would always chase this butterfly
as it makes its way across the sky
When I look I feel as though I can forget
The painful needles that twist into my back

I would always dream of this butterfly
and I wonder if I could ride it and fly in the sky
When I dream about it, I don't regret
Not being able to leave this tiny bed

Sometimes I can't see the butterfly
My vision turns grey like a stormy sky
I get scared during those times, because it makes me thi


Other Literature by Me:
Mercenary 1-1 MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si
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Battle Scars:

Sharp claws rake into my skin
as my blood bursts forth to splatter against the ground
The uneven breathing of my foe
tells me that he too is wounded and close to death

I can see his teeth, flecked with frothing saliva
foaming and spitting as he bellows his name
He charges into me, his frame crashing with mine
the impact has me reeling and I fall back against the stone

The ground feels cold
the icy chill seeping into my bones
the warmth of my blood escapes me
and I can feel myself beginning to fade

Up toward the sky I glance
praying that I might receive assistance
I pray that he who commands me, he who stands above
Will pity his servant and relieve me of this pain...

Yet, my prayers go unheard
Here I lie, slowly fading
slowly drifting into the grey ocean
as the voice that commands me utters my fate:

"Pikachu, use Thunderbolt NOW!"

-Chen Yuan Wen, Experimental Release
Tha Captain was playing around with tha idea o' pokemon and he wanted t' experiment with getting into tha thoughts o' tha pokemon, who in real life would be battling an' takin' serious wounds, so all o' that was put into perspective with a nice twist at tha end t' sort of say what it was about. Had t' place it under humour because, no where else t' put it really.

Enjoy and don't forget t' fave if ye liked ^^

-Co-captain Hayes :iconlugialuvr13:
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Dishonoured:

He stands before the adoring crowd,
Basking in their cheers and standing ovation.
But he has already been dishonoured -
By means of his perverse innovation.

For none could know of the dark secret;
About the art that he claims to be his own.
It is naught but an illusion, smoke and mirrors -
A theft for which he must atone...

But this disgusting creature, this worthless abhuman;
So desperate for the glory which he sees upon the stage!
Will quietly don the skin of another;
An urge he must assuage...

Biting his nails, a cracked smile upon his lips, he whispers:
"No one will know, no one will find it and I am great..."

-Chen Yuan Wen, 24th October 2012
If ye enjoyed this, please don't forget t' fave it, each one tells me yer actually enjoyin'. Otherwise I worry I may not be holdin' yer interest yar?

Now then, lads and lasses, I hope ye'll lend me ye ears fer awhile.

I've known about the problem of parasitic authors on DA fer quite awhile, but the problem doesn't seem t' be gettin' better. Rather, it's gettin' much worse.

What is a parasitic author? Someone who uses the artwork of another in their lit. submissions and doesn't give proper credit

Now, it's common knowledge. If ye don't own it, DON'T use it. That's infringement of copyright and t' use th' urban slang fer it, "You're dick-riding man..."

Essentially th' thing t' remember is that giving credit and asking fer permission is a common courtesy. A lot of artist simply like to put:

"Image not mine, searched it up"

Even if ye do a google search. Here's th' correct way t' do things:

"This image is not owned by me, the original artist is [website/artist name] and the original artwork can be found here: [link]. I have obtained the artist's permission to use it as a cover."

If everyone did that, then honestly, there wouldn't be any problems.

'owever, what I see most o' th' time is authors bein' VERY flippant about these basic rules o' courtesy and instead thinkin' that sayin' they don't own it, is enough t' allow them t' use it. They often like t' say:

"Hey man, chill, I'm not doing it for attention!"

But...if yer not...then why not let ye words speak fer themselves?

I think it is an extreme dishonour, upon all of us as poets, if we support those that unfairly abuse the works of others without concern fer the original artist. One of the groups I'm in has stated:

'No credit, no acceptance'. I think that's a fair rule because when you use something, ye must always give credit to one whose work ye are usin'.

Therefore, I implore ye all as me readers and fellow lit. folk. If ye see a piece with an art cover and it seems pretty clear from their gallery and description that they don't produce these covers. Then speak t' them and the original artist and make sure they understand that giving credit is the HONOURABLE way of usin' cover art. If ye don't give credit, then you'll lose yer honour.

Do ye want t' be like Prince Zuko? Didn't think so lads...

-Captain Chenbeard o' the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:
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He does not fight for the General barking orders,

Nor for the man in a suit, who sent him across borders...

In his pocket he keeps a single picture, a sole reminder

Like ancient scripture. A home he misses so endlessly,

Tirelessly calling out in his dreams at night. It is the last

That remains on his lips, with his finger pressed upon the trigger.

A single heartbeat, as he sights his enemy; A quiet prayer

To rest in peace. Yet soon it fades, as hope is fleeting;

For the little soldier boy, once marching home.

"Bottoms up buddy, I miss you..."


-Chen Yuan Wen, 18th October 2012
If liked this piece, please take a moment to fave it (^_^). Each faves let's me know that you liked the piece and it helps the piece get ranked for popularity :3

If you'd like to hear me read poems and do a little comedy live then then check out episode 3 of my live show here: [link]

Author's Comment:

Alright, so here's another Shot-Glass Poem for all of you. I tried a little something different, starting out with rhyme and then fading it out as the structure becomes free-verse before the final ending. I mean, it's nice to have rhymes throughout, or free throughout, but the mixed stuff can sometimes be better at carrying the emotions through. Rhymes to get the ball rolling and then the switch to keep the meaning serious.

That said, I hope you all enjoy this piece and please let me know if I managed to get the emotions right. I hope to perfect my shot-glass poetry technique.

That said, what inspired me was:
a) Avatar, The Last Airbender: i.e. Iroh's son (he sang a song for him I think it's also called Little Soldier boy, but I only used those three words xD)
b) My dear friend :icongeorge551: who has his birthday today. He often writes a few pieces on soldiers and combat and I wanted to do something similar for him. Happy birthday mate. If everyone else could, please wish him a happy birthday too ^^

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

P.S. Yes I'm writing a lot, got more birthdays to handle so you guys get more entertainment WHOO!

Other Poems by Me:
I Comfort Myself With a warm drink, whispering secrets to my own reflection.

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
Yeah I'm Stupid! Yeah I'm Stupid!:

Indeed you are absolutely superior. A divine being, more intelligent,
Learned and completely right in everything you say about me.
However, if I might be permitted to — as they say in slang —
"Drop the beat", then I'd like to show you my own style of doing things.
Art thou ready for this my sibling from a different parent?

-

Sir can I have just a moment of your time? I think I lost
My will, let me sit and bust a rhyme — rappin' like I'm
Edgar Allan singin' Raven songs, thank god I have a
life and love that keeps me really strong. See I
Understand the fact that you may not like the things I do,
Str
Waking Nightmares Waking Nightmares:

It begins in the same way, every single night
Fire spreading from an altar in the darkness—
As all living beings are slowly consumed,
The coruscating flames appear wet with blood…

The scene then changes to a flooded hallway
Live wires dangling just above the water,
Like venomous serpents slithering in the darkness—
A single pounce would end my life…

Eventually the hallway ends with a door,
One that reminds me of forgotten yore—
And my thoughts shall be in rhyme at this point
As though lips and tongue are eternally joint…

What maddened schemes have they in mind?
It is not a questio
This is for the Reader This is for the Reader:

With the soft touch of his fingers
The piano begins to play, a heart untouched for so long
Bares its secret melody...

-

When I first started out I couldn't avoid just bein' cold
My life revolved the things that I was always told—
I never knew the warmth of standing up to take a bow
It was not a joy that I would ever-ever be allowed
Through all the days I feared that everything would disappear
You held me up and held me close like I was something dear
I never knew I had a part of me that you would like
I guess that's what you feel when you can't even see the light…

-

So this is the only way, that


Other Literature by Me:
Mercenary 1-1 MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si
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