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.
BECAUSE I AM A WRITER!
When I craft my works, when I write each and every line,
I paint using expression; metaphors are my colours.
The words are my brush and each and every rhyme is my medium.
I do not ask to be considered an artist, but I do ask to be considered.
BECAUSE I AM A WRITER!
For someone who practices his craft day and night,
Painstakingly learning how to use each and ever
You Have No Right To LiveYou Have No Right To Live:You Have No Right To Live3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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.
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!
A lousy person like you should just go die!
okay, fine! I will...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 26th November 2012
Machine ManMachine Man:Machine Man3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It began with but a simple command, "to do as we are told".
Never to deviate from this path - never to nurture the soul.
We are told that we are given a purpose; "a part of something great!"
Yet why oh why am I so weary of that which is my fate?
Am I an error, a single anomaly, unable to feel intact?
Or am I missing some special attribute - a facet which I lack.
In a society made of fleshed machines; robots wearing skin,
Perhaps I'm simply seeking something, to fill this metal tin.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 16th November 2012
You Left Me StrongerYou Left Me Stronger:You Left Me Stronger3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Hey there, it's been awhile, do you remember me?
I guess you might not, since I wasn't very important to you.
You know, I spent so many days thinking about - what I did wrong
I questioned if maybe, I was at fault or if I was screwed up.
I thought a lot about the things you said...
The things that were my fault, my problems.
I took them to heart at first, but then I realised you were wrong.
I realised that you are selfish and ugly on the inside.
On the surface you pretended to care, but like a cancer;
You amputate someone the moment you think they've gone bad.
You hide from the rigours of life and only emerge like a parasite
When everything is good - when everything is fine and dandy.
I used to think that I was afraid of you leaving,
But now I know, that you've left me stronger than I was before.
You know, this was supposed to be an emotional whine; an emotional spill,
Maybe I was supposed to cry tears and beg you to come back, but you know wha
It Came From The DarkIt Came From The Dark:It Came From The Dark3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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 -
-Chen Yuan Wen, 11th December 2012
They Watch UsThey Watch Us:They Watch Us3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Perched high upon the mountains;
With wings as black as night.
They watch us in the hour,
Before darkness turns to light.
I've seen them in my visions;
In dreams they come and go,
But the things they seem to tell me
I guess nobody should know...
I've seen children that are buried,
Beneath a frozen lake.
A maiden sits there weeping;
Her heart is soon to break.
The crows flutter downward,
A noose amongst their hands.
They take the maiden away,
To a dark and distant land.
And even if I follow -
Even if I try...
I'll simply end up buried,
Where the frozen children lie.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 10th November 2012
Alone but AliveAlone but Alive:Alone but Alive3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
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.
Burning bile of ugly treason,
No one else can know the reason.
Left a soul behind to burn;
You are the reason I have turned...
On this cold and endless night...
When I'm finally pierced by the light...
And I awaken from this hell...
ALONE - BUT ALIVE!
Alive and again oh do I dare?
To give this heart and to lay it bare.
When heaven cast its fate
This is for the ReaderThis is for the Reader:This is for the Reader3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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
Letting Go of YouLetting Go of You:Letting Go of You3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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
DishonouredDishonoured:Dishonoured3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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
Practice Poem - Poor Little TimmyPractice Poem - Poor Little Timmy:Practice Poem - Poor Little Timmy3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Down into well, poor Timmy fell,
Down he fell into the pits of hell.
Brought into hell by an eldritch spell,
Poor little Timmy who fell down the well.
Alone he cowered and shivered and shook,
He shook for hours, so long it took,
So long it took for him to feel well,
Well enough to explore this hell...
Through pathways littered with scenes most gory;
Most gory indeed was little Timmy's story,
A story of fear and suffering defined,
Poor little Timmy, he ran out of time...
Now then, I think I'll go welcome my little guest...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 14th December 2012
In Service to MorganaIn Service To Morgana:In Service to Morgana3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
There are those who would fear a demon's blessing
As they wither beneath its corruptive touch
Yet I am someone who embraces these things
Because the darkness has taught me much...
I have learned of the beauty of dying roses
Turned to dust by a single breath
I have learned of the fear that a man will face
When he is first confronted by death
His contorted features and the screams of his agony
Will peak when he is placed into Morgana's grace
I have learned that even heroes will soil themselves
When they are forced to worship her smiling face
But she is not ugly, nay she is beautiful
She appears like an angel with the wings of a crow
Yet those whose hearts are in the grip of denial
Will view her as a spectre in a blizzard of snow
Closer she creeps with a neck that has been snapped
Her gaping mouth sags as she calls out their name.
They try to run from her, but it is all in vain
For soon they will be forced to feel her pain...
But to me this is beaut
BelovedBeloved:Beloved2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
With a bright radiant smile
If only for me...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th January 2013
Whispering to LuciferWhispering to Lucifer:Whispering to Lucifer3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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 brothers have forgotten that, in a single minded pursuit of-
Aye, clever you are to see that
for these brothers of mine find comfort in the wondrous art of destruction
self-abuse is taken as 'fun', addiction is a personal right
Greed is good and gluttony is gold, sloth is scoffed at
and wrath is protected by the comforting
The PoetThe Poet:The Poet3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He smiles as he sees her sleeping
& gently covers her with a blanket.
He goes to the window and looks out
watching snow fall, ever so slowly...
He sees people in the streets,
Chatting, walking. Some happy,
Others sad. Hearts beating,
Hearts broken; some warm, some cold.
He looks back at her, as she stirs in bed.
A yawn from her, brings another smile to him:
"How cute," he chuckles as he strokes her head.
He runs his fingers through her hair and is content.
Yet, even if he is happy here, again -
He is drawn to that window and finds himself
Staring out at the street and watching;
Marveling at the disparity and wondering -
Isn't there something that I can do?
Isn't there a better way for us all?
He looks back at her, sleeping peacefully;
He thinks about the future and sighs.
He wants a better world for her,
One where she would always be safe,
But unfortunately, he has no power.
He is just one man with little to his name.
He picks up a piece of paper, one found lyin
Where Angels PlayWhere Angels Play:Where Angels Play3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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
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
My Beautiful FilthMy Beautiful Filth:My Beautiful Filth3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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
Practice Poem - Man In CagePractice Poem - Man in Cage:Practice Poem - Man In Cage3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
When I was young I was taught that pain begets pain,
Anger and animosity, malice and cruelty;
So deeply inflicted, so lovingly gifted.
I tasted of its rotten core and dared to call it sweet.
But what do I have to show for it?
White hot scars that burn in my dreams.
Reminders of a fragmented bi-polar self;
Self inflicted propaganda, to reinforce the "truth".
Truth so lovingly fabricated by a weakness within,
So desperately crying out for vindication;
Openly denying all that might shed light upon me,
Seeking only the company of shades in shadows...
Within four walls I sleep in exile;
Quietly pretending that I am still sane,
Never noticing how it has all turned out;
Alone I remain the same...
Never reaching, never living; I am free within the cage
-Chen Yuan Wen, 1st January 2012
Sensual TortureSensual Torture:Sensual Torture3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You are but a simple pawn;
Caught in a maelstrom of ill feelings and turmoil.
You were not meant to be here -
But unfortunately, here you are my friend...
Now then, I do not wish to drag this out;
There is no purpose in badgering someone who knows so little.
However - without your confession - I'm afraid that
I would not know whom I should share my - pleasures with...
Though I'm certain that you will be sharing plenty...
Of course, it will probably be a poor idea to make you scream,
At least not while I'm still enjoying your fear.
Instead we'll begin with a simple agony;
A quick taste of your pain to whet my appetite...
We'll begin with just a thin incision,
One that is made in the center of both your eyelids.
And then, then we'll make another cut - this one just above the eyes...
Ah, I will adore the feeling of watching your skin peel apart
As the scalpel bites in and draws it aside; much like the curtain
Set upon a theatre stage. It is the
I Comfort MyselfWith a warm drink, whispering secrets to my own reflection.I Comfort Myself3 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
Whispers of the MadWhispers of the Mad:Whispers of the Mad3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your lips remain painted with the scars of torment
Carved so as to split with every word of speech
The glass that slices through your softened flesh
Bears the marking we know as 'Vinashuka'
And now he lies beneath the falling sand
Drowning in a world that is sinking away
Though his feet will seek the stability of ground
He finds himself caught by 'Vinashuka'
A disturbing word that rings hollow at best
For it carries the tone of a tainted solitude
A heart that has been corrupted by physical pain
Can only scream 'Vinashuka!'
How does a man know when he has gone insane?
To descend into a world where logic is naught
A moon that carries the colour of blood
Shall paint my skin with 'Vinashuka'
I have lost all sense of meaning in this place
There is no where else for my soul to flee
Caught within the whispers of delusory madness
I can only repeat Vinashuka...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 13th July 2012
FEARFEAR:FEAR3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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
The Pirate SolsticeThe Pirate Solstice:The Pirate Solstice3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There is tale around the Galbin Coast,
Of a black ship that appeared on the Winter Solstice.
It arrived at a town near Bismarch,
Struck heavily by famine and crop plagues.
The ship drifted silently upon the ocean currents,
Not a creak nor groan could be heard from its frame.
It docked at the port like an ominous reaper's vessel;
A metallic boarding ramp - much like a daemon's tongue -
Slithered slowly from its deck to meet with wooden jetty.
The crew descended, wearing black cloaks and black hats,
Fedoras, I believe they were called.
These figures made little noise as they moved,
walking slowly, silently and solemnly,
Carrying huge rucksacks upon their backs.
One by one, they dispersed throughout the town,
They went from house to house, distributing food,
Gifts and other things of the like.
For the first time in a long while,
The town was filled with laughter and joy.
Children actually giggled and smiled,
While adults breathed a sighs of relief and ea
The Real WritersThe Real Writers:The Real Writers2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There are those who sit with their laptops and tablets,
Clothed in a scarf and an artistic hat of some sort.
They ponder; leaving a stack of books beside them,
Sipping their decaf as though they are literature personified.
What works do they prepare, other than blatant copies,
Perhaps a half-baked romance designed to woo a lady.
So convinced are they, of their own aptitude;
They are blinded by the beams of their burgeoning ego.
For the writer is not the man who is tapping away at keys,
He is not the man fervently reading with lensless glasses.
He is not the hipster debating ancient literature.
For he is a monster, wearing human skin.
He is the deranged madman, eccentric, uncanny.
He is the one who sits catatonic;
An entire world of fantasy playing in his mind.
He has gone through millions of scenes,
Thousands of scenarios, hundreds of plots
And dozens of characters.
He is not the man you expect him to be,
For a true writer is utterly WEIRD.
My Soul, My Dream, My TeamMy Soul, My Dream, My Team:My Soul, My Dream, My Team3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
We are dreamers, we humans.
We reach out eagerly to that which lies above us
Tempted by its unattainable nature and egotistically;
We simplify the task that lies before us...
We climb without any forethought, without preparation;
Recklessly we charge head on for our goal -
And eventually, we lie broken by our failure.
I myself, Captain as you call me,
Am little better than a foolish dreamer.
One who dreams in a childish manner;
Unaware of his impotence, when left alone.
How many times have I been saved by others?
When I lack time, it is my officers who stand,
They keep the ship running smoothly,
Expending hours of precious effort.
When I fall, it is my co-captain who rallies me,
And reminds me of our responsibility -
One that we owe to our readers and friends.
When I write, it is my team - my uncles,
Who lay the path before me;
They give their time and their heart,
Supporting my work from its birth as but a simple idea.
And when I am dow