Here I lie, motionless,
A prisoner within my own body.
Yet there lies a subtle clarity;
A moment of understanding, achieved by infirmity.
And though my body is racked with pain,
My conscious mind delves ever deeper into the pool of the soul.
My mind is flooded with a racket of noise.
I am cast into the swirling rip-tide of forbidden knowledge,
Clinging to the flotsam of sanity as a Leviathan roars below.
It swallows me into an acidic whirlpool.
Drowning me deep beneath the bubbling surface of the past.
And there, in the murky depths where my very self begins to rot,
A grinning maw of tongues and fangs, bids me a cold "hello!".
-Chen Yuan Wen, 26th June 2013
The Flower of EvilThe Flower of Evil:The Flower of Evil8 months 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
Into The Mental AbyssInto The Mental Abyss:Into The Mental Abyss7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
To the edge of the very abyss I have travelled.
With worn feet, gone bloodied and bare;
Dragged upon stones that stretch like sharpened spines,
Leaving tattered spoils of flesh in my wake...
Even so, I am incapable of halting;
Like a zombie, I remain numb and hypnotised.
Shambling ever onward, toward the glimmer of light.
Eager to be behold the 'she' that awaits me:
A wonderous wellspring of inspiration and knowledge;
Perfect, yet fragile, in both shape and form...
It is her majesty, her radiance,
That leaves me drained...
Alone in the depths, I am humbled and awed.
Yet the admiration that I feel soon turns corrupt,
It renders my thoughts both dark and cracked...
For if any other were to find her,
They would wield her as a weapon.
They would have no need for inspiration.
Creative thought would be an utter simplicity:
Leaving a perfect world, without opportunity...
Indeed I could never share such a thing.
Jealousy leaves me ugly, but still I c
Under YouUnder You:Under You5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Beneath the surface of the water,
There is silence, peace and darkness.
To mute the mouths of men,
To drown the voice of the world.
Surrounded by ignorance,
I choose not to hear your whispers.
Without death or pain,
Without birth and life;
Surrounded by denial,
I reject this sense of self.
Without colour or light,
Denying all that is around me;
Surrounded by emptiness,
I am blind within this cage.
Muted, ignorant and blind,
I sleep beneath the surface of the lake.
Eternally drenched, eternally drowned,
I am the you beneath the surface.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 8th July 2013
Player versus PlayerPlayer versus Player:Player versus Player8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Elemental artisttry, as lightning weaves through the air.
I see the bloodthirst in his eyes, the hunger for victory.
A demand to be recognised, yet soon to be silenced;
Perfect and perfunctory - my opponent made defunct...
As I stand above this dying creature;
The flicker of life soon fading from their eyes.
I smile and whisper a word of parting,
For the fool who fell where he lies.
-Unfinished piece by Chen Yuan Wen, 10th April 2012
A Midnight WearyA Midnight WearyA Midnight Weary8 months 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!"
Secrets Should be SilentSecrets Should be Silent:Secrets Should be Silent5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
What is in the nature of a secret?
It is not to be known, nor to be seen.
It is that which we bury beneath layers of deceit.
Why then, do we bury poetry?
why then, do we bury prose?
Why secret that which is meant to be seen,
And showcase that which is meant to be secret?
Are the words of our soul less important,
Than mere phrases designed to seek attention?
Are the words that we carve from experience,
Taken as less than a general phrase of emotion?
...No, I would hope not.
For I do as any other might,
And my skeletons are kept under lock and key.
For a secret displayed remains secret no longer;
Merely a gossip's fancy.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 6th July 2013
What Are You To Me?What Are You To Me?:What Are You To Me?5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have walked in this world,
And they have told me of kings.
Of brave rulers who make the tough choices,
Men of example and outstanding character.
But it was then that they said,
What is a king to a God?
What is a mere mortal to a higher power,
One who holds our fate in his hands?
They said he was benevolent and kind,
Wrathful and jealous, magnanimous and selfish alike.
He was the perfect ideal, embodying all things
And we were made in his image...
It was then that I was laughed at,
By he who asked this question:
What is a God, to a non-believer?
One who lives by the truth he sees...
He is the man who acts as per his morals.
He lives through his eyes and is judged by his fellows.
He submits to no higher being, not a one does he fear;
Comfortable with his own conscience...
But all three, I beg; I ask ye this:
For what is a king to a God,
A God to a non-believer,
And all three of them in comparison,
To the madman who watches the world burn...
PressurePressure:Pressure6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
You try to breathe, but you're barely breathing,
You can't think clearly; you can barely speak.
Your mind is filled with needless thoughts.
Your cheeks are red and feverish...
You know what you must do,
But you can't bring yourself to do it.
Instead you jump into a thousand distractions...
Mindlessly seeking the thrill of the 'anything',
You cringe at the progress of time on the clock.
And with lips gone dry from an internal hell-fire
You continue to evade what you cannot face...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 22nd June 2013
The Real WritersThe Real Writers:The Real Writers7 months 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.
Thoughts of YouI wonder how many days I spent dreaming,Thoughts of You3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of all the things I could never say.
And just when I'd written it all in a letter.
You showed up smiling in front me.
And all of a sudden, the letter didn't matter anymore... (^_^)
What's Left Behind...Some days I find myself staggering from this hovel;What's Left Behind...4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
To stand with shaking legs upon the window ledge.
I look down at the tiny world below, wind rushing before me;
And I wonder if I'll be able to fly tonight...
The caress of the wind, so gentle upon my skin.
One step, one leap and I'd dip myself into the eye of the storm.
But just before my courage sends me;
Just before I take the final plunge.
I find myself looking back, at the world I'd leave behind...
Stacks of paper and a pot of ink,
Reams of stories too precious to burn.
Ideas and fears both rolled into one;
And pages of poetry left undone...
It always leaves me smiling...
For these were the treasures so close to my heart.
They are the wealth of my mind; my soul, my art.
And I could never ever leave them be,
Where another might burn them, without thinking of me...
"Apologies father, I cannot join you yet:
For in this world, a treasure still exists.
A treasure tha
Memories of WarMemories of War:Memories of War11 months 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
Are We Not Free?Are We Not Free?:Are We Not Free?5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Ye say that nothin' changes;
That all we're tryin' t' do is fer naught.
Ye say that nothing's wrong,
That we should be acceptin' of our fate.
But why should we simply accept things as they are?
Are we no' a free people?
Are we no' allowed t' speak our minds?
Every man, every woman in this land,
Has the freedom t' choose their own path.
If our ideals must beg us differ,
Then that too is a part of the change that grips us.
What exactly do ye have t' fear?
If yer stoic in ye ideal that nothin' will ever change.
Why not simply ignore us;
A passin' flight o' fancy that we are...
Yet still ye try, ye attempt t' change our minds.
Ye pacify us with the notion of acceptance,
Highlightin' the fact that the world is fine.
Ye say that this is the way that things should be!
That m'friend, is yer personal freedom;
I'll not impinge upon it, fer it be yours.
I only ask, if ye could kindly mind,
Not to treat us, like we're bleedin' blind...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 18th July 2013
Song of RaineShe scatters the seeds with her tiny hands.Song of Raine3 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And pictures the sunset in a distant land.
She dreams of places, where she'd be free.
With clouds as far as the eyes could see.
And there she'd dance to the song of the rain,
While I would watch from my window pane.
With a smile befitting such a lovely girl;
The daughter I lost, to a cruel world...
A Polished White SinkA Polished White Sink:A Polished White Sink8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
If I had to call this world a blessing;
I think I'd say 'I find it damn depressing.'
You might think I'm stupid from how I'm dressing,
But this is just the heart I feel like wearing.
I see street corners and absent youth;
Don't pretend you don't ever see the night.
Cause when it turns dark, the maggots start crawling;
Looks like God decided to shut out the light.
I can warm my hands on fire and watch the people go,
They don't know who I am, I just go with the flow.
I see streets that seem empty, clogged to the brink;
But that's the reality deep beneath the sink.
It looks clean on the outside, polished porcelain white,
But inside of the pipes are what you keep out of sight.
Yet they're already straining and distorted with strain;
Soon the flood water comes flowing, wash away with the rain.
-Unofficial release from Chen Yuan Wen, 8th April 2013
These Hands Are So Red...These Hands Are So Red...These Hands Are So Red...9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
These hands are now red and so slicked with this blood,
I can't even wash it in a basin of mud...
As I scrape at the skin of those demons I chase,
I am left with a smile mixed with pain on my face.
Since I swore I would savour this blatant disgrace,
Let perversion be writ in these scars I will trace.
From the tip of my shoulders to the base of my tongue,
Are the names of those sleepers so cold and so young...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 15th March 2013
Remember Your DuesRemember Your Dues:Remember Your Dues8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
You think you can forget it;
As soon as you forget it,
Believe you will regret it,
Relieved of all your credit.
Your honour and your lifestyle,
Curled around my knife while-
You sit and play your games,
Thinking everything's the same.
But I'm watching and I'm waiting;
This patience suffocating,
But it's worth the while I'm waiting
For this hatred I am facing.
You thought it was forever,
And so you did endeavour;
To pretend the chains and ties,
That bind you; they have died.
But the fact is you have lied;
Forgotten where you're tied.
The markings on your side,
Remember why you hide!
But its too late for apologies;
The ice has just cracked -
And my gun has just cracked,
And soon you're getting capped.
No love for another traitor,
No love for another hater.
Remember who is greater:
A king or his creator?
-C-Dragon, 22nd April 2013
I Can Only Sell MyselfI am but a pen,I Can Only Sell Myself4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not even a sword.
I have naught but words,
No skill may I afford.
Truly it is sad,
That it has come to this.
But if you are in need of writing,
Then let my words bring you bliss.
So tell me, what would you have me write tonight?
This is for the UnderdogYou know what it's like,This is for the Underdog2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
When your feet touch the bottom.
You wish you were like others,
But you know that you can never be.
The glam and the glitz,
The sound of a thousand people cheering you on.
That's not for you,
That's never going to be for you!
But you know what,
You've got something else inside of you.
You've got something else,
That no one who sits on a lofty throne could ever have.
And that's pain...
You're in pain, because you know this is bitter.
You're in pain, because you've been denied something better.
But you take that dose of bitterness
And you swallow it like it's god-damn medicine!
Because the king expects you the crumble,
The king expects you to lie down and surrender.
So play dead if you have to,
But when you rise again...
Make sure you tear out their god-damn throat!
Sweet SerenityI have searched the very depths of my being,Sweet Serenity3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Seeking the essence of the void...
To understand its nature,
To become a part of nothing...
For where else can we be free of turmoil,
Where else can a beaten soul go to rest?
If not in the comforting embrace of eternal oblivion?
Such is what I seek, away from the noise that burns at my ears.
Away from the many voices that drill into my mind.
For these are not the whispers of psychosis,
Nor the delusions of a twisted psyche.
Instead they are the whispers that are heard all around us;
The whispers of the every-man.
He who desires the body of another.
He who desires the fat of his wallet.
He who cares only for self-satisfaction
And He who wishes to stand above all.
Voices, voices, noisy voices...
Eternally spitting their foul words into me.
Even in the realm of fantasy I can no longer escape!
For they are here, and I read their words scrawled across th
DeceptiveDeceptive1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Tempting with beautiful wings;
-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th January 2013
Dear Father I Loved You, But...Dear Father, I loved you,Dear Father I Loved You, But...4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
But this truth I shall say.
That you were the demon,
that made me this way!
And though I am hiding,
It's hard when it's lurking beneath:
This anger and hatred,
It's all I believe.
So don't speak or I'll hurt you,
I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
But you are the ending,
Of this broken story.
So tell me, dear Father,
What can you say,
To boy whom you twisted;
When you pushed him away.
The Toymaker...Ah my dear, how are you feeling?The Toymaker...4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not too uncomfortable I hope...
You see, you are another,
A wondrous being, handpicked by me,
For you are perfect.
Before you start screaming,
Before all that noise and unpleasantry befouls these soft red lips.
I've taken the liberty of removing your tongue...
Wag, wag, wag;
That's all it was doing when I extracted it.
Like some, infectious insect
But oh, I shouldn't raise my voice.
That's not very proper of me, hehe.
Now, let's put some markings on you.
Mmm - I'm going to have to get rid of all this, excess.
You see, I can't have a toy that's all bulging in the wrong places.
Dolls are slim, dolls are pretty.
So no, we can't have that...
We'll just slowly slide this tiny slip of metal.
Shlip, shlop, shlip, shlop - and pull!
You see, you see?
It comes right off, like a laye
I Like To Play With SkinI Like To Play With Skin:I Like To Play With Skin8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
My dear friends and watch,
As the feeling of life itself
Crumbles beneath each ounce of pain.
Needles slowly piercing into the body,
Paralyzing nerves and expressions.
A mask of pure horror; living terror,
Kept alive on the barest limit of the border.
Such tempting features,
Leave me eager to slip a knife beneath flesh.
Ripping soft layers of epidermal mache,
Tanned and dried, woven slowly into a loving mask.
And with my latest acquisition complete,
Only twenty spaces remain...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 28th April 2013