I am who I am.Mine is not a face that would launch a thousand ships
Mine is not a body that would make men go to war
Mine is not a mind, sharp as a blade nor quick or witty
Mine is a heart that bleeds and loves none the less.
I am not a queen of beauty or elegance of ages past
I am not a model or scientist, nor a woman of career
I am not a fashion statement or a symbol of feminism
I am a woman with hopes and dreams none the less.
Mine is not a perfect home from the magazines
Mine is not the latest fashion or trends of clothes
Mine is not the accepted norms of life or style
Mine is the individuality of not caring for either.
I am not the person everyone else wants me to be
I am not the kind of woman people expect of me
I am not flawless, nor ashamed of the flaws I have
I am who I am, and I am who I want to be.
Have you seen my dream?Have you seen my dream?Have you seen my dream?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's not that big
But it is mine.
Have you heard my opinion?
It's worth two cents
It's worth every dime.
Have you touched my heart?
It is very fragile
But I am willing to share.
Have you seen my dream?
It may not be much
But at least I dare.
The Music We MakeI feel your heartThe Music We Make2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Beating softly with mine
A pure harmony
Burrowing deep inside
Crescendos and allegros—
intertwining mirrors of our
actions, your baritone echoing my alto,
our hearts the metronome to the rhythms
of our voices lifted raised in the wordless
music of our song.
Though I don’t know the words
I merely sing the melody
letting the beating of our
hearts slowly lead me
to the words waiting inside
The cavernous organ where words
coalesce and convalesce, unearthing
phrases yet unspoken and thoughts
undisclosed…our song—my song and
your song, two favorites written and
recorded as night stretches unending
And I listen as
our song weaves together
a lazy, loving ballad
telling tales of both
now and forever
So let’s listen to the stories
we hear in our heartbeats
as our pulses race and soar,
aching to synchronize beneath
the moon’s glow as
We let the world fall away,
disappear into the flowing of
our music, the lovely lyr
Skipping Stones.We skip stones across the sandSkipping Stones.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
expecting rings to spread in pre-historic oceans
as Terra Firma recreates itself according to the original blueprints.
We step closer to the brink
for that leap of faith we never dared to take
before the tide swept us off our feet
and carried us beyond the edge of the ancient maps where
“Here be Dragons”
have been etched into the scorched earth like graffiti.
Sentences get too long as we run out of words to form them
speaking with our bodies in a twisted dance
like larvae burrowing into the crust of the earth.
Seeking deeper towards the internal sun
like an imitation of Icarus
digging deeper until the core melts our waxen wings
and we become yet another particle of our own universe.
from ripples of oceans past
and the sand slipping between our fingertips
as we walk on bare feet across the heavens
in search of answers we have yet to form the questions to.
Harvesting Stars and building Castles.We harvest the stars from the skyHarvesting Stars and building Castles.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And hide them in our pockets
Cage them within jars of glass
Like fireflies on a midsummer eve.
We build castles of sand and air
Devastated as the tide reclaims them
Breathing deeply in quiet sobs
As the sand runs through our fingertips.
We long and yearn for something
Never quite able to define what it is
Reaching for straws to keep above water
As the tide washes over us.
And the wind
in the sand.
Lie to MeThere are those who stare into the water's edge.Lie to Me2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Gleaming eyes fixed upon their reflections.
I am beautiful! they say to themselves,
And all of you must accept that as true!
To say otherwise would be a social suicide.
Their friends will defend them to the bitterest end.
In a circle of illusions cast by the group,
You are forced to accept this person as 'pretty'.
To me you are not beautiful, you are simply lazy.
You have done nothing for yourself,
And now you wish me to accept you?
But I must tell you the truth.
And though that truth may wound you,
I believe it is for the best:
Because girl, dayum! You just look so bad that my eyes are cryin' YOU a river.
- Chen Yuan Wen, 11th August 2013
Define BeautifulDefine beauty.Define Beautiful2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is it that smear of lipstick across your face,
Or is it that smile that you can't replace?
Is it that paper thin dress those girls fit into
Or is it those beautiful creations you make that only you can do?
Is it the media's screams shouting in your ear
Or is it the whisper of God, saying "You look beautiful, my dear"?
Which definition of beauty do you choose to hear?
My Winter Bride Hush, my loveMy Winter Bride2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Not a word
Not a sound
Let me kiss your breath away
as I lay you to sleep in the frost covered ground.
I shall dress you in a wedding gown
of lilies so pure and white
Pleading my vows of love eternal
to you, my Winter bride.
Our wedding bed is covered
in a blanket of virgin snow
Stained only by the secrets
I have forced upon it now.
Sleep gently, my love
Not a whisper
Not a breath
Let me lie by your side
while I love you to death.
Where good men go to die.Unwashed bodiesWhere good men go to die.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
bent over scorched earth
toiling as sweat draws rivers
in the dust upon their faces.
clinging to skeleton wrists
feet dragging and kicking dust
choking rebellious songs in their wake.
like a welcome blessing
drowning out the conscious pain
of being aware of their destiny.
deep in their minds
may cause a slight discomfort
reminding them of former lives lost.
like a tidal wave
drowning the echoes of pasts
they do not wish to remember.
shattered like jigsaw puzzles
no longer fitting the frame
like tatters of cloth upon bones.
falls upon scorched earth
exhaling as tears draw furrows
in the dust becoming their graves.
The heroes of old.Let the old heroes restThe heroes of old.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
beneath ancient stones
buried in history and dressed in legends.
Let the old kings rise
in marble and gold
for all to see and praise in forgotten stories.
And when time comes
for the legends to breed life
let then the old heroes serve their kings
in ever lasting stories of the golden past.
StorytellerStorytellerStoryteller2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
tell me a story.
A fable of wisdom
or a tale of glory.
Sing me a song
of dreams and
Stories of kingdoms rising
and worlds going under.
Draw me a picture
with colours so bright
and spin me a fairytale
to dream of tonight.
We did not expect the world to end.We did not expect the world to end.We did not expect the world to end.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It just did.
We kept saying “It won't happen in our lifetime.”
But it did.
We closed our eyes to the cracks in the walls
and they crumbled around us.
We forgot the decay in front of us.
It was so easy to ignore.
It ate away the foundations of our lives.
Still we ignored it
and claimed that life would go on.
We did not see it coming.
Even if it was right in front of us.
We tried to repair the cracks in the dams
though the water had already washed us away.
And though the clouds were black and red
we looked away.
Or stared ourselves blind on the colour display
as our skin peeled away beneath the acidic rain.
We dreamt of the sky
and reached for the stars.
Forgetting the ground beneath our feet.
It tore apart at the seams
the gaps too wide to repair.
And the sun was setting on a world
We did not predict the true apocalypse
though many a prophet had tried.
Their predictions were hollow
and we lost faith.
We did not listen to the real
The Koi PondHer father had had koi fish for as long as she could remember.The Koi Pond2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Ever since she was a little girl, she had been hunched by the small pond in the garden with her father, looking at the beautiful fish and feeding them with bits of fish food.
He used to tell her that the koi fish could grant wishes if you wished hard enough.
She was a grown woman now, staring at the small pond with memories flashing before her eyes. She remembered how her father had been sitting on his knees, carefully picking fallen leaves from the water so they wouldn't clutter the small pond. The loving care he had put into arranging the white chalked stones around it and planting Forget-me-nots between them.
Her mother's favourite flowers.
It saddened her to see how the white paint was flaking from the stones, and how weed had crept in between the cracks to strangle the delicate flowers. As she watched, a crimson leaf tore free from the half naked branch of the old tree close to the pond, floating gently through the
I Am The Mighty!I Am The Mighty:I Am The Mighty!2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I remember this tale, from a time of brutality; from whence I would have gladly murdered a soul. For the fragile seek to transcend their pain, but ever are they poisoned by it.
This man I remember had called himself ‘Mighty’ and I watched from the stands as he delivered his speech. “You are the fools!” he cried to the audience, “for even as you mock me, I am whole. Through tragedies I've suffered, through pain I persevered. I am a greater man and your words may never hurt me.”
Fool, is what I thought, for he seemed to take pride in this display. The crowd cheered him on, patting him on the back, but to me he lacked conviction. For I saw through the sham in his boast and I knew that his demons would haunt him again. This time a little earlier than needed.
“Yes my friends, I am a damaged man. I have been broken before and my spirit shattered,” he continued to ramble, as I drew close to him.
My Birthday Is Rather SpecialMy birthday is rather special time of year. In the day, there are good wishes, parties and a good time to be had by all. In the night however, events tend to take a rather morbid turn…My Birthday Is Rather Special2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I prepared this year, as I always do: A chilled bottle of wine hidden out of sight and a pair of large candles; both of which would last the night.
I would then take a seat on the sparse wooden floor of my storage room and wait. Always I would end up waiting as the minutes ticked on by, for my companion was never early nor was she ever late. Indeed, she would only arrive precisely when she was meant to.
I peered into the shadows as time wore on by. The flickering light of the candles did little to aid my vision, filling it with the blissful pirouettes of the dancing shadows. I was always nervous during these times and indeed, I had reason to be. Most would have lived their lives without a spiritual encounter. Most should be glad to be a part of the boring world. For in a world without incid
FlowersA rose by any other nameFlowers2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
has sharpened thorns all the same.
A lily no matter how pure and white
may still conceal malice, hatred and spite.
The tiny weed so fragile and small
may well be the fairest flower of all.
The girl in the pondIt was a warm summer night when I found her.The girl in the pond2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her dress was white with yellow sunflowers,
and her auburn hair was spread out around her pale face.
It looked like an ever changing halo
moving gently in a soft breeze.
She had lost a shoe
Her deep, blue eyes stared into heaven
and the freckles of her skin drew constellations
against the pale background to mirror the stars above.
Fish gently nibbled at her fingers and nestled in her hair
paying no heed to her ruby lips which her last breath had left open
almost like an invitation.
I looked at her
I loved her...
Thinking it was the least I could do
now that she had been so carelessly abandoned.
It was my duty to remember her.
I took the memory of her and stuffed it away
for safe keeping
The rest was just a shell
now empty and soon decayed.
Then I left
leaving only the pond behind to swallow its secrets.
Nature GamesThe ocean's crying,Nature Games2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dripping droplets of cunning salt.
The impatient wind wails endlessly,
Yet the water's depressed thrashings don't halt.
The land stays solemnly still and stands
Courageously tall without shedding a tear of agony.
Even the shy breeze whispers,
To the gentle giant trees of the soil's bravery.
The overwhelming ocean leaves sad tiny marks
Of shells from its aggressive harsh beatings.
The lands bleed boastful
Sand as the beach's greetings.
The wild petunias and daffodils pose
As the audience to the frames,
Hence, the fauna sing and cheer
To these nature games.
How to Insult PoeticallyOnce I happened upon a callow young lass,How to Insult Poetically2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who apparently thought that it was cool to be crass.
And she turned her tongue upon the profession of writing;
Apparently she felt that it was in need of a smiting.
Though her raving and ranting made very little sense,
She seemed to be taking a rather harsh stance.
Apparently her pain was too great to be understood,
Far beyond the comprehension of this man from the hood.
So I stood there in swagger, clad in my bling.
While she behaved like 'Moon-Moon', in search of a thing.
She spouted some nonsense, some far fetched line,
About never idolizing the keen writer's mind...
If that is the case, then why ape my technique?
Why submit to several galleries; is your brain on the leak?
You are writing to be seen; you seek attention as I do,
What are we if not performers, is that not true?
Did you believe that you could use your past as a shield?
It counts, I'm afraid, for nothing, I feel;
For you see, I'm a killer, as bold a
Sleep Child.Sleep childSleep Child.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pretend the carousel of life doesn't make you queasy
Dance in the spider webs they ensnare you within
To eventually drain you.
Entangle the strings attached to your body and soul
Let them try to solve the knots and tangles
Slip away when cut.
Let your silent cries call out to Heaven above
Deafen the devils and the tormentors of Hell
Even though you're mute.
Make them pay and make them all bleed out
Shroud them in spider webs and their dangling threads
Then go to sleep.
Lasting Impressions.It crossed my mindLasting Impressions.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And lingered there
Like footprints in concrete
It invaded my heart
Made it home
Like a bird nesting
It lifted my soul
On waxen wings
I flew too close
Now I ask myself
My eyes closed
Was it worth it?
Sound of RainThink for a moment: Is the sound of rain, truly what you are hearing?Sound of Rain1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Imagine this, you're sitting there in your underwear (don't try to pretend you're not). It's raining outside and you've been browsing the internet for the past seven hours. It's already 3:13 a.m. in the morning and a sudden hint of nervousness seizes you. It's silly really, you don't have to attend school, nor do you have work in the morning, but somehow you still feel as though you should force yourself into bed.
You crawl under the covers and bring the blanket up to your chin. Your mind runs over all the things you've done today and you stare at the ceiling, trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed, listening to the sound of rain as it goes pitter-patter on your window. Yet, somehow, the rain sounds different tonight. You feel a strange sinking in your chest and a rising sensation of fear.
The pitter-patter no longer sounds like gentle droplets of water hitting the glass. It sounds more
Lift OffLift Off2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Outer space beckons me,
it chants it's eerie pulse through my very threads,
tonight I lift off,
touch worlds only written of,
venture to corners so dark,
anything even implied is sucked away into a billion year old remark.
tonight I'm unburdened,
astral sentinels wave hello as I sail through,
one day by my side there will be more than a few.