Tired, Exhausted, DrainedTired, Exhausted, Drained:
I am bloody exhausted! Drained to the core of my soul.
I wake up every morning with bags; burning ever deeper into my eyes.
Sunken masses of flesh, reminding me that the dreamscape -
One in which I sought refuge; is now buried where it lies.
Yet still I force myself to trudge through this wilderness.
Forever caught in a moon drenched, delusory twilight.
An endless cycle of failure and renewed hope;
Giving rise to the very stubbornness that defines me.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 5th February 2013
Poetic Practice - Love Like AshPoetic Practice - Love Like Ash:Poetic Practice - Love Like Ash3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Yes sir, he is clinging to insanity.
He remembers all the things he said, profanity.
Bare the shame on his naked old humanity.
He is the doll claiming love for his vanity-
When he woke up, desire!
He made a move like fire.
His whispers; a liar,
His heart snaps, like wire!
But what are you thinking of this man as I make him out?
Is it an image or a type that you seem to tout.
was it all his fault with no one else to blame,
Or were there cracks in the story that they both will claim-
Spit that and live that,
Hate when you love that!
You rip that and tear that,
Scream like you know that!
Stop for a moment and just listen to this silent cry,
Time has stopped now for both of us to say goodbye.
Both turning on these clocks, living lies that have stopped;
And when the love turns to ash, let the gloves be dropped...
- Chen Yuan Wen, 17th January 2013
UndyingUndying:Undying3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
How many days do you spend now, putting me down?
The coffin call for a dead man waiting around
"He's just an underground laughing stock, never to rise"
But on the seventh day I'm coming back; these are my ties!
The kind of promise that you made with the devil inside
You try to take away my soul, but I take it in stride
I ain't a doll that is crushed by the weight of his pride
I am the real and the raw of the things you denied!
You're playing snake games, selling oil, pass it off strong
You're just a pot head, weed dead, smoking your bong.
You try to look away, play and hide; apathy's best
But I'm the kind of bad boy you don't put to the test!
-Chen Yuan Wen, 7th February 2013
Memories of WarMemories of War:Memories of War3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
What is this long-lost memory inside?
Where oceans turn; what have we left behind
With star-burned wings out above the sky.
The sleeping sons are lovingly left to lie...
A thousand tears you've cried for all,
Now its time for you to fall!
Will you open up the door,
To the future we ignore?
Are you simply lying broken,
From the memory awoken;
Are you simply living lies,
Bitter taste with ropes you tie...
And the world will soon forget.
Fill my heart with this regret?
For the victims written in stone.
Unspoken sin you now atone...
Yeah I've seen this world where we livin' in pain,
Wrap my body round with chain.
Now we both know we be broken;
Give this man his smokin' token.
Held up guns with both his hands;
Not a boy he's cause he's a man.
Order comes by a suit and hand.
Will you flee or will you stand?
This is a memory of our war,
Of all the things that we can't ignore.
And staying blind to the cries of pain...
Will lonely ashes be what remai
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
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
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
A Special Happy BirthdayA Special Happy Birthday:A Special Happy Birthday3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your birthday is a special day,
It comes but once a year.
And so I've made this little poem
For those that I hold dear.
You've lived and grown another year
And now you've come of age.
It is time for you to show yourself
Upon this worldly stage.
Some are artists, some are troops
Some are sportsmen throwing hoops.
Some are writers, some are bad,
Some might be the best we've had
Others are fixers, others will fax
A gamer might use some mighty hacks;
There is a plethora of choices for you,
So do what in your heart is true.
But for today let us just have fun
Rock the world and then be done.
For a birthday comes but once a year
And yours my friend is finally here!
"Happy Birthday to you, I wish you all the best and may all your wishes come true."
-From Chen Yuan Wen, to all the November birthday kids, 5th November 2012
A Midnight WearyA Midnight WearyA Midnight Weary3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Amongst twinkling stars,
Much like a cricket's chorus;
Types his essay:
"Failure is red,
My parent's say;
An Asian get 'B'
Is shameful display!"
The Flower of EvilThe Flower of Evil:The Flower of Evil3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Evil is but a blooming flower,
It is born from a humble seed
And grows to corrupt a forest.
To watch its infection spread;
To be a part of its existence...
I can think of no better prospect,
Indeed one might baulk at the idea,
Of seeing millions suffer.
To watch worlds scream and writhe;
To see them suffer and die, with living eyes...
Yet there is a mysterious beauty in such devastation,
Fear that shakes me to my very core;
Is transfigured into a twisted pleasure:
As I am frightened, so too am I aroused.
I am addicted to the ephemeral sensation;
To the borderline between rapture and rupture.
To see my own blood soaking from splitting wounds;
Leaves me maddened amongst these blooming flowers
-Chen Yuan Wen, 1st May 2013
These Words Aren't PrettyThese Words Aren't Pretty:These Words Aren't Pretty3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My verses are ugly and I admit to the fact
I can't use pretty language when I'm working with rap
Because the things that I write, are just the things that I feel
I ain't an Edgar Allan Poe or a Danielle Steel
And I'll be honest with you, I've got an envy inside
Because some poets got a flow that's as smooth as the tide
I read some stuff that they write, it's just so dope I ignite
Burning shame and my anger at the beautiful sight
And like birds of a feather, they're flocking together
These poets are the Gods and I'm nailed by the weather
But as the rain pours down, lightning resound;
I try to write pretty words but my lips remain bound
So deeply silenced by fear - the darkness I hear,
Afraid to be unloved by the ones I hold dear
I've hit the limit of time; my lyrical crime
These words that I've lived are just turning to grime.
So I wish I had their talent; just a sliver of that
If their skill was a mountain then I've broken my back
It's like t
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
War TuneWar Tune:War Tune3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I've got another beat for all my hard gamers,
Rockin' in 'Bloodfall', rank hall of famer.
Arena top ten, I'm the mage known as Ryda,
Got a femmie avatar; cute little strider.
You better come with me, if you want to live.
I'm roastin' up a storm with the fire that I give.
Meteor crash, I'm the king of all the stunners,
You better think twice if you're the knight or a gunner.
And if you talk big all them haters give you crap;
They cryin' on the field cause I bag 'em in the sack.
I'm sorry that you paid, but I went and broke your back.
Cash shop wings; I'll just rip em in a stack.
Cause even if you shellin' out dough to be the best,
I'm an Asian gamer and that's the fuckin' test!
I click at a rate that'll make you all explode.
Cause I control the lag and the inner matrix code.
And if you tried to ask me, I'd say that its a fact;
I'm Kirigaya Kazuto dressed up in black.
-Unofficial Release by Chen Yuan Wen, 12th April 2013
I've Changed (Yeah right)I've Changed (Yeah right):I've Changed (Yeah right)3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You know, I tell myself everday,
That I'm going to change - that I'll be different.
'This isn't the same; I'm not the same,' that's what I tell myself...
As I sit in front of the computer, praying time doesn't move.
Coward, you're weak and you'll always be weak! You bloody disgrace...
I pick up some new magazine, get inspired,
'I want to be like that guy,' is what I think to myself.
I give it a try for two or three days - I quit.
Same old shit again...
Making up excuses? It's what you always do, you gutless wonder...
I try to reach out with my hands,
Seeking something, anything that I can find to help myself hold on...
But I don't find it - I just find myself,
Sinking back down into the same black swamp - I'm drowning.
Awww, what's the matter? You gonna cry, you gonna cry?
Yeah, I've hit rock bottom,
And you know what? It feels pretty damn good down here.
Nice, warm, comfortable, familiar.
No pressure, no problems - just like everb
Sending Me To HellSending Me To Hell:Sending Me To Hell3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I close my eyes, as the black smoke fills the air.
Incense burned to create a semi-choking sensation.
A tiny inkling of the perceived suffering,
But it is enough to make this difficult...
Next, wounds are carefully opened.
Patterns carved into the flesh,
Resembling the nine circles of suffering.
As each begins to form a red river,
An ocean pools beneath my stained elbows.
In the distance I hear the cackling of witches;
Accompanied always by the mad shrieks of those beyond.
Already they can taste the red wine that I ooze
And eagerly, their tongues wag; anticipating the feast.
Concentrate...I have to concentrate
My teeth grind together, as I force them shut,
The pressure causes my jaws to ache and my body soon stiffens.
It seizes up like an iron vault, my mind its secret mechanism;
Twisting, turning, seeking the accepted combination.
I can feel them now, reaching for me...
Tongues begin to lick at my open wounds,
Lustfully salivating unto m
Painted SkinPainted Skin:Painted Skin3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He smiles at you, as you enter the office;
Wearing eyeliner made of contempt and disdain.
His cheap cologne invades your nostrils immediately
And you quickly suppress a cough.
"Yes, yes, indeed we have to review this...er, many things are involved."
His face is powdered with a layer of self-importance;
Lips reddened by the polite harshness he spews.
His forked tongue flickers as he prattles on
And you're really getting quite tired.
"Oh I'm sorry! Of course, of course I understand; but my way is much better!"
You're getting really bored now, so you take a look around the room.
The expectation is to see it bedecked with acolades;
Yet bare walls, cold and empty, are all that greets you.
"Are you listening to me, I'm telling you why this isn't good enough. LISTEN TO ME!"
You take a look at the cup of coffee you were offered,
Cheap and lukewarm; you narrow your eyes.
"Is there a problem? I'm being honest, this is for YOUR OWN GOOD!"
Eagle GirlEagle Girl:Eagle Girl3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
She soars above clouds,
Beloved, wild, unrestrained.
Ended by envy.
- Chen Yuan Wen, 27th January 2013
The Real WritersThe Real Writers:The Real Writers3 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.
Little Soldier BoyHe does not fight for the General barking orders,Little Soldier Boy3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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
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
Words for the Young BloodsWords for the Young Bloods:Words for the Young Bloods3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To all my ninjas sittin' low on the street side,
I want you all to raise your head with pride.
Because I'm callin' out, for the youth to come together
And get those big wigs off the fuckin' power ladder.
You ready? Because we're going at it hard:
See I'm the kind of guy that they're all playin' with
A systematic crisis workin' in the way we live.
The big shots still sittin' and they growin' fat.
With young bloods starvin' just to get their life on track.
We take psychometric tests and make a passing grade,
But ain't no job cause the corporate head is gettin' paid.
And when they screwin' with the money, they ain't never cut.
The young bloods be the first to get their letter up.
I say the system ain't shit and we all got it wrong,
The old mothers are just stayin' in for way too long.
I say we cut them from the system that they fucked up,
And let the young bloods take it; we'll just fix it up.
They set the game, but we're the ones playin' main;
I guess t
A Shattered IllusionA Shattered Illusion:A Shattered Illusion3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A day that was born of the brightest light
Has now shattered like crystals in the sinking dark
Where once the spirit was unfettered and free
Now it weeps painfully in a cage of thorns
Blood is drawn from its tender flesh
And drips slowly down to mark the skin
A tattoo of pain forever remembered
By a ghost that lives within
There is emptiness in this void
A cold and lonely song of existence
A solemn note born from the sheer magnitude of the silence
That it deafens both the heart and mind
In the quiet serenity of utter despair
What is born from the lack of a sense of hope?
A cold determination to steal the future
From the wanton wheel of fate...
"Such is the nature of desperation, when caught in an endless cycle of hate..."
-Chen Yuan Wen, 10th July 2012
I Can't Devour You, Not YetI Can't Devour You, Not Yet:I Can't Devour You, Not Yet3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I long to taste the sweetness of your flesh,
To roll your meat between my tongue and teeth.
So many times have I come - so close -
To taking that first bite from your neck.
Yet, there is something about you,
A scent perhaps or a sickly sap.
It turns bitter upon my tongue,
Poisoning it; I am left unable to eat...
Much like the caterpillar, covered in spines,
Each bite would spew only bitter venom -
Numbing my senses and dulling the mind;
It would leave me naught but a gormless wreck!
Even so, despite me knowing of the repugnant taste,
I am drawn toward you, like a moth to the flame.
May my wings crumble in the heart of the fire -
& body be turned to dust and ash...
If only for the chance to feast once more!
Ah, my dear - I will have you.
& on that day it will be so sweet.
But for now - I'm afraid that -
I must leave this as a mere - tantalizing - fantasy...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 12th December 2012
A Pirate Makes a PoemA Pirate Makes a Poem:A Pirate Makes a Poem3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Apparently all it takes
Ta get ye works ta slake
Is a simple scheme o' rhyme
Which takes a minute o' time
Perhaps I'll do the same
It's fair ta play this game
No meanin' in tha words
They just flop around like birds
"Oh this stuff it speaks to me!"
Really is that true?
I'm afraid ye might be daft me thinks
Ye certainly be loose a screw
For if works do not have meanin'
Then they're simply done and dull
I think I'd rather spend me time
Playin' dice in a golden skull
I suppose that what tha people want
Is a simple kind o' style
One that looks as good as ale
But tastes like bricks and bile
"Now then lads, do I get ta be a poet too?"
-Chen Yuan Wen, 10th July 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