Farmington Hills, MII.Farmington Hills, MI in Free Verse More Like This
i have this tendency to hide behind tall buildings.
skyscrapers are home, but your lap
is the most familiar place i will ever know.
when Thomas Edison invented the light bulb,
he did not account for your smile.
the brilliance of the two can blind,
subsequently terminating his patents
and deeming light fixtures illegal.
every time i'm on the highway past midnight, i'm reminded that
the difference between us is a 300-mile span of lampposts.
i'm sure that Thomas Edison didn't consider this, either.
if he had, he would have used that mind of his to invent teleportation.
he wouldn't want me stranded in a bed too large for a single body,
shivering with thoughts of damp fields and crunchy leaves and interlocking fingers,
mumbling about how quickly we turned upside down.
still, i think of you in the moments before i do something brave
like tell a secret or hold someone's hand during a movie.
you taught me that forgiveness comes in floods.
my eyes are a tsunami-tide away
spectrumi have heard that it is impossiblespectrum in Free Verse More Like This
to imagine a color you have not
seen but for so long,
i have been picturing his body
wrapped around mine,
his chest rising rhythmically
against my back as we sleep
in an unclaimed bed,
and i can’t help but wonder
how many colors i see him in.
surgeonsthe stun of your lips against every inch of my beingsurgeons in Free Verse More Like This
broke the static of sound after sundown into silence,
so maybe it is counterintuitive to interlock ourselves
into the curve of lust's bottom lip, but it would be
nothing less than sin to stop our skins from sliding
into each other at least once.
your tongue was a tidal wave between my teeth
& we licked each other's pasts so clean that our
now-stunned reflections melted like church candles:
a mess with purpose.
i talked to God on a chipped-paint swing set
and begged Him to tell me
how this could ever be wrong:
the way you molded your hands around my waist
like a cast-iron of deities, how your eyelashes brushed
against mine until our tears cleansed our convictions.
you split my spine with the edges of your palms,
but you couldn't promise a seamless recovery.
drinki crafted my lungs into coastersdrink in Free Verse More Like This
for all of this heaviness, but i still
can’t breathe at night.
i look into mirrors hoping to see
a difference, but ghosts are still
i've swam in shot glasses deeper
than your convictions but somehow,
i still drown at the thought of you.
stardusti keep myself covered most days.stardust in Free Verse More Like This
my waist is a melancholy echo of
the way he touched me 2 summers ago.
the way my right shoulder leans slightly lower
than my left is evidence of far too many misdemeanors.
the cracks decorating my ribcage are memories
of a brisk december morning when my pride
clawed its way out before i was ready.
i am not old; just soulful with the kind of passion
that flickers like the candles i light in lieu of all my
selfish prayers that i gave up expecting answers to.
all i need is someone who is willing to
open up my scars & sprinkle them with
stardust until they disappear.
unanswered phone callsmaybe if we enjoyed the lullaby of emptyunanswered phone calls in Free Verse More Like This
dial tones, we would fall asleep somewhere
amidst the clatter of unanswered phone calls.
there is a melancholy to be found in silence.
nothing but the static between our muted voices,
only the sterile hum of knowing you are
watching TV or driving or laughing or fishing
or out with friends or asleep somewhere.
love is not a limb; if it's lost, it will always grow back.
i am discarded bandages and surgical knives.
you are an amputated arm; your phantom limb
haunts me whenever i doubt your ghost.
i learned a trick to uncovering the scent of a hospital without
actually going to one. pick a beach on Lake Michigan and swim
to the point on the horizon where the clouds become water.
you will find me there and immediately recognize the smell
of emergency. do not be alarmed; love is no urgent matter.
again, we will hug a hospital bed with no way to pay the bills.
the best way to dance is to a soundless song.
remember: the silence. when i’m re
breathlessour ribs are feathers thatbreathless in Free Verse More Like This
whisper secrets through
the air trapped in our lungs.
faulty matchesfor as long as i can remember, my father has carriedfaulty matches in Free Verse More Like This
the weight of the world on his shoulders. it’s not
bodybuilding because the diabetes breaks everything
he creates. he doesn’t walk very far—or at all, for that
matter—because his toes curl into the bottoms of his
feet and he staggers like a war-torn soldier.
talking to him has always been a battle and in our house,
the bullets were endless. you didn’t have to try very hard
to light someone on fire, to make them limp the way you did.
his skin is chapped and blistered in all the wrong places
and when i look at him, i press my nails into my palms
and wait for the burning bridge to disappear.
most days, he is a lump of coal or a match that just won’t light.
he always taught me to strike while the iron is hot but i’ve been
warming myself around the flames of his anger my entire life
and i still shiver in his presence. my father’s temper is a desert:
alone, red hot, parched. his throat is dry
sometimes it's best to abandon shipin the seas of my sailor-boy stories,sometimes it's best to abandon ship in Free Verse More Like This
limbs of past lovers have been found
floating like forgotten prayers.
i have made far too many unlucky discoveries,
witnessed far too many good people
burn at the stake
to ever go back to child's play.
he is the rope not long enough
to save us from this shipwreck.
i am the anchor stuck in the sand,
cracking deeper with every wave.
the human heart is a muscle
not accounted nearly enough credit
for what it has been through.
so he folds his arms around me
like a flawless sail and tells me
that getting over people is easy,
that i could just forget the ways i
was altered and affected by the
plethora of existences that surrounds me.
with my flipped gut and over-tested nervous system,
i will trust him. i will listen.
this time, i am too far gone to risk it.
the evolution of goodbye1.the evolution of goodbye in Free Verse More Like This
your brother embraced me first.
his skin was warm and his chest was bony.
he tucked my head between his elbows, told me he'd miss me & meant it.
you pulled me from his arms into yours,
held your breath tight in your lungs,
and let me slip away.
i cherry-picked the memories of you and hid them under my bed,
but treasure always has a way of finding itself again.
i've never had the patience for puzzles.
still, you left me in shambles that used
to fit together. no instruction manual.
how do you assemble a working machine with broken parts?
in Grand Valley, Arizona, i was in my grandmother's
home after so long. you buzzed my phone to life and
the entire Grand Canyon collapsed from the shock waves.
you asked about my puzzle. i told you it was perfect.
to this day, orange dust puffs out of my phone to remind
me that i’m still missing pieces.
we closed our eyes at the same time,
said i love you the only way we knew how,
and clicked each other out of existence.
we were sure
'No Killing Spree For Me'No killing spree for me'No Killing Spree For Me' in Concrete Poetry More Like This
It would be wrong
Can't you see?
Bloody and dirty
A murderous sin
But the rage is crawling
Up and down my skin
Losing Control Of My Own MindI feel relieved once you go to bedLosing Control Of My Own Mind in Free Verse More Like This
Pondering whether or not to threat
The dead and silent wall to speak
But why should I speak to dead memories?
Caught and tangled in the stone
Knocking on the door
Scratching beneath the floor
Asking kindly to burn my mind
So I will never be able to find
The crucial, torn part of my soul
Hoping to turn my heart to coal
Menacing chants echoing through the hall
I still rock back and forth near the wall
And still it's asking me to join in
The border to insanity is pretty thin
And maybe I should just cross the line
Is it possible to be mad and feel fine?
Because if it's so, I'd like to choose
Losing my mind without an excuse
And to live happily ever after
Diluted in crazy laughter
Our Masters Silence And TimeWords are so inadequateOur Masters Silence And Time in Free Verse More Like This
To describe the silence
That worried hearts exclaim
No words, not spoken ever so smoothly,
Could describe how silence
Is speeding toward, into our little worlds
We're under the oppression of time
Which doesn't even exist
Too fast it keeps weaving together
The lines of our lives
We're small, so tiny,
Watching as time and silence
Effortlessly make us try to
Follow their bright lights
We're left to pace anxiously
'Till the end of time
We hurry towards the sound
That radiates nothing but-
But utter silence
We try to track it down
To restrain the threat
And yell after our masters
Crying in relief
But they don't even hesitate
And we feel no suspicion.
Come With Me!I know the streets are as frozen as your tearsCome With Me! in Free Verse More Like This
Even though they still sting your cheeks
Darling, they dried. Enemies died
And hatred soaked these lost places
And maybe the smell lingers in the air...
But please see the miracle you're in right now
You're alive and there's so much to come
You've got to stay awake to see!
So sleep no more and join in with me!
The Lost InnocenceYou wouldn't believe how white the snow here is...falling silently from a grey- blue sky...The Lost Innocence in Short Stories More Like This
You wouldn't believe it even if you were standing right inside a snowstorm, icy wind whipping around you, pulling your hair violently in all directions...it's from such a pure and innocent white, you could only contain it if you were...just like the snow itself.
In comparison, you think you know the colour of blood, right? Blood...a red liquid that flows through your veins, that you have seen so often when you accidentally broke the skin with something sharp...
But that's it...it's red, and that's all you know....but...it's what keeps you alive...
It's not only red....the colour of blood is crimson, and time can darken this special shade of red, it can turn it almost black.
If you have made it this far I assume you don't understand why I wrote this...
Why I began writing from snow, and then from blood....let me explain.
Here, where I live, snow and blood go together in harmony.
Snow falls everyd
Be Alivefeel the sun burning your skinBe Alive in Free Verse More Like This
Wild and free, breathing out, breathing in
Dancing in the storm
Crying with the howling wind
Laughing along wiht the cackle of thunder
Running and getting arms skinned
Bleeding in a rhythem of youth....
UnwantedI feel dirty, and worthlessUnwanted in Free Verse More Like This
Though I know it's not my fault
I didn't choose my heritage
Nor my parents relationship
I am not a bastard on purpose
But I feel...I feel ashamed
For I know I am Gods unwanted child
And my birth was a sin
My sheer existence provokes hate
And force tears in my eyes
The children in school say I am weird
And their parents call my Mummy a slut
When I fight with my Mother
Accidentally it escapes her mouth
That she should've gotten rid of me
Back then when she had the chance
I remember the little girl
Curling up inside her head
Crying over hours
Not able to understand the pain
Knowing you aren't wanted
Is the worst thing to know
To say someone isn't wanted
And doesn't deserve to live
Is the deadliest thing you could say
I learned over the years
To accept myself
But still I lack confidence
When I share a room with you
My troubles are rooted deep
Somewhere inside my head
There isn't one thing I could put my finger on
But I think I understand
The only way to set myse
This Hell Of InsanityHere in hell, it's always hot,This Hell Of Insanity in Free Verse More Like This
We love you all...we love you not,
Such confusion these fires cause
Down here in Satan's house
Oh you'd love it here,
Chatting with psychos,
Bathing in blood!
All innocent sinners
Sin with the fallen army of God!
Don't be scared to embrace the pain
It'll all be fine and good,
You're already here, why not enjoy?
Just pray for your dirty dreams to come true,
If you believe hard enough they'll come for you
Fall to your knees, beg for the rage
The wrath and sorrow,
Sing along to our tragedy,
Satisfy the animal you know you carry inside!
Feed upon your enemies,
No need to be so shy!
These monsters and demons,
Won't harm you a bit,
Just might scar you for life...
But we're all a tiny bit demented in here,
All just a little disturbed,
Nothing to worry,
Nothing to care,
I assume you believe it's unfair?
Might be, might not, I don't know,
It's you telling lies, you know you belong here,
Does it hurt you at all?
Ah just shrug it off, we'll be laughing together
Letters To A Stranger - Five - WatchingDear Stranger,Letters To A Stranger - Five - Watching in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I now write to you from a hidden place,
I can see yours, but I covered my face,
Don't even try to find out about me,
It'll be bad for you, if you ever see,
Too weak to face the truth alone,
Too afraid to bring your friends,
Stranger I ask you in all honesty,
You'd rather burn, or drown in the sea?
How have you become so scarred?
Bones left broken, skin left charred,
We grew so far apart,
But tell me, where's your heart?
We fight and fight, but forget to breathe,
Furious and full of rage, we burn and seethe,
Stranger can you remember or recall,
What led us to stumble and fall?
I see you wriggle as you read my letter,
I know very well how much I matter,
You're exhausted and sinking in bitterness,
Slowly eaten alive by your self-inflicted distress,
I must move on now, I'll contact you later,
So you have time to label me the traitor,
Never have I cared - more - , neither have you,
Mistakes and pain have only ever reached through,
Brand New SightLike a silent melody,Brand New Sight in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
The sweetest music you'll ever hear,
It'll come to you,
Satisfaction of revenge,
Don't ignore your need,
In a mood to defend,
A want for forgiveness,
A way to glow in the dark,
To never wander lost again,
A tiny, struggling spark,
Whatever it takes,
To just survive,
Try it, try it for me,
Because I want you alive.
Eyes wide open, you'll see,
The light returning,
A blissful burning,
Tearing up your chest,
Fire shall rain from the sky,
The pain shall be overwhelming,
When terror consumes your soul,
I'll be there, watching you grow,
And with their eyes wide open,
All doubt shall be removed,
Their shallow mind be cleansed,
From rhythms without emotion,
Staring at you with empty eyes,
We'll set fire to the skies,
Like ashes fading in the rain,
I'll do whatever it takes,
To keep you alive as long as I must,
'Till your tattered wings grow back.
The LabrynthCool stone,The Labrynth in Free Verse More Like This
glaringly white to match the pearlescent light
that scatters the shadows cast by feet.
The tree in the center
gently sways to the rise and fall
of the air.
The simplistic nature of silence
has the shadow casters deafened.
Their shuffling towards the tree mindless,
their intensity second nature.
perched on rocks,
haphazardly on weak branches,
This is where the rise and fall
that stirs the leaves
becomes the rise and fall of our chests.
Where the palms that touch to form our center
becomes the veins and arteries of the beating;
the collective beat.
Here is where I am not I,
but I am part of us,
and we are part of each other.
Hearts and hands that reach out
in the flesh after being hindered by distance
for so long.
Hot TeaHot tea, blue steam,Hot Tea in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and warm smiles fill the room.
I sit and wait perpetually.
My life stills and the room fills;
a song paused mid tune,
Hot tea, and blue steam.
My companions are my mug and your pills
I know you have to be back soon,
I sit and wait perpetually.
The haze swirls and mills
forming a bright moon
hot tea, blue steam.
Pictures blur as my mind drills
further into a possibility that croons
I sit and wait perpetually.
The door opens, my cup spills,
cares are strewn,
hot tea, blue steam,
I sit and wait perpetually.
Let Me Tell You A StoryLet Me Tell You A StoryLet Me Tell You A Story in Free Verse More Like This
A little girl once walked though the world,
and the world let her keep her head up high.
Soon she found out that if she bent her head only a little,
the world would let her skip.
She skipped and skipped until one day she discovered that when she fell,
bending it down just a slight bit lower eased the pain.
Pressure built as she traveled through her years,
until she discovered by bending just a little bit lower, the pressure was easier to handle.
Every time something became too much she would bend just a little lower,
the change not because she was beat down, but because she succumbed.
Now she falls down into a sweeping bow, shoulders drooped, eyes lowered, head fixed on the floor,
when the world decides to let her look up again.
The air allows for her to rise the same amount she fell when she was young,
before the last gust knocks her to her knees.
No other time before now has she known what a mistake the first fall was,
but no other time before now did she appr
Ripe but FallenThey say little girls are made ofRipe but Fallen in Free Verse More Like This
and everything nice.
Sugar is lost on you, turning into rot and decay.
Spice is wasted on you, a zest spoiling and overpowering.
Everything nice seems absent from your mind, for your actions and words are that of a fiend.
Little girl no longer,
are you happy to be mature?
are you happy to be an adult?
are you happy to be noticed?
Because you are no nearer to the respect you desired in achieving any and all.
Motives for LoveIt's our time togetherMotives for Love in Free Verse More Like This
that makes me love you.
Laughing, blushing, teasing.
It's the little things
that make me love you.
Drawings, notes, gestures.
It's the thoughts
that make me love you.
Sentiments, reminders, words.
You make me love you.
But where did you go?
Let DownOn a day of expectations (when I only have a few)Let Down in Free Verse More Like This
I wish more than anything
for them to be fulfilled by you.
To feel the surge of gratitude (warming you who is by my side)
from the aid that you have given me
even from the thought that you have tried.
So when I give out those orders (and they are not obeyed)
I feel like I am sinking
and am just a little betrayed.
White NoiseAn empty house is still too crowded.White Noise in Free Verse More Like This
The walls of definite confinement,
the lights that remain too bright
even when off:
An empty house is still too crowded.
Sonnet for a PrincessIn the faint light of that which is so dark,Sonnet for a Princess in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A flower unfurls its blonde petals.
A rose light emitted, calling out, "Hark!"
The cry finds those so lost beneath the nettles.
Lighting the path, making it easier to see,
you are a stepping stone that many need.
A princess with no castle, you are me
and we are bound by the internal creed.
The promise to keep an honest flame going.
Through the darkest days and brightest nights,
the protective moat should never stop flowing,
drawbridge always lifting those to new heights.
Kind, sweet, honest, and brave, we try our best
to keep the rose light flickering with zest.
WarSilence.War in Free Verse More Like This
Silence fell quickly.
Silence fell quickly, rapidly.
Silence fell quickly, rapidly soundless.
When Everything Feels WrongThe usual distractions,When Everything Feels Wrong in Free Verse More Like This
When they do nothing to cease the quell.
The select books,
far away lands
When they can't take you away from your mind.
lead sinks to your feet,
and nothing will draw you up again.
CarvedYou are an oak carved tableCarved in Free Verse More Like This
that has been hewn and hacked
from its original pure form
into something someone found useful.
I was screwed tight together
with fixtures, fights and fittings
by so-called master craftsmen,
who wanted me to be firm,
who wanted my artificial endurance.
Men who wanted my knots undone
and for me to hold them up,
but I am a chair, and you are a table.
You have told me of the days
when seventy percent of you
was forcefully ripped out
leaving a splintered hollow behind.
I know how abrasive people
rubbed you up the wrong way
with sand paper to keep you quiet,
and with words to keep you down.
Plain men with plained minds
that have been stroked to the quick
and left only with the core
of their brutal carver instincts.
I know how you were made, table.
I am five pieces nailed together
With sticky tape for good measure.
You are one whole still, somehow
and when I need you, you are stable
and your legs are thicker than mine,
run faster and bear more pressure
on your leve
The PledgesI pledge to immortaliseThe Pledges in Free Verse More Like This
acts of love committed against me,
and to share the knowledge
painstakingly passed down
from shaky paper hands,
to a smooth maternal grip,
to your clammy grasp - to me.
I pledge to close my eyes
when all inside feels dark
until the sun falls from the sky
and you make the stars slash
through the nightcurtain
to remind me of ephemeral love.
I pledge to remember
the way that last kiss tastes
and constantly struggle
to capture it for those not lucky enough
to kiss you.
I pledge to save my tears
to rehydrate old inkwells
so that they become part of every story
I decide to tell.
I pledge to keep trying
to be happy, outside the parameters
of a brain that can’t help but hate
that I am not you
and that I am still alive.
Shame on MeI thoughtShame on Me in Free Verse More Like This
that I could think my way
out of a brain defect.
That I could unlearn
the way my neurons fire
and the synapses wince
when someone raises their voice
that when he told me to trust
that it could be true.
That I could learn
the way that vocal chords moan
and groan, and growl.
When someone tells me to believe
to be myself
that might mean they meant it.
GangrenousThe bloated tongue full of heliumGangrenous in Free Verse More Like This
that escapes the ephemeral and lifts up, skyward –
is stuck in a congealed throat
draped with the closed curtains of bile and blood
souping a dam across her vocal chords. No more words.
The hair is brushed, later, out of its nooseloops
until it is straight and lies flush with the velvet,
in a box only just big enough to bury the dreams of a life
lived without pain
bubbling out of the now dead lips with each breath.
Skin soft turns hard – in the way that all girls do as they age
but she does not age.
She couples only with the wooden box, painted falsely white,
that covers her body and face.
It is the concealer, the mascara, the war paint never worn.
The chemicals of her unusually sewn-together body,
combine in a way geneticists cannot explain
to exude the only smell it can. Of her –
but it is not the familiar any longer. Not the smell of milk and dust.
Now, the acids boil together, to purge her of her pain.
The familiarity of her fades
In My Own WayYou're my neon greyIn My Own Way in Free Verse More Like This
lit up behind my eyes where I hide my truths
in the space between what I wanna do
and what I think I should do.
You're out of my league
and I'm out of my mind but I can't help thinking
that if I found a way to break through
what I want and what I do
then I might, I just might
ProximityProximity burns at the back of my throatProximity in Free Verse More Like This
incensed with the smoky taste of your cologne;
You're a mere eyelash away and you
in time with the slow motion thumper in my heart.
I reach for you and nudge my kiss into yours
'til we meet somewhere in the middle
of emotion and nicotine-tasting adrenaline
that sets nerve endings in my fingers to vibrato
as I hold on tight and kiss to show one
of my feelings for you.
The End of the WorldI didn't prepare for the end of the world.The End of the World in Free Verse More Like This
I somehow thought that we, reclusive in a hardened bubble-shell, would survive it.
I didn't brace for impact, I didn't even consider it happening to us. Why would I?
I didn't prepare rations, bedding or bunkers.
It didn't occur to me to imagine a post-apocalyptic world in which our love wasn't enough.
I didn't see it coming. It destroyed me nonetheless.
The end of the world doesn't care for your readiness.
The EndThere are shards of arctic skyThe End in Free Verse More Like This
in my soup
and they crack
against my voice box
and they snap
into my burnt-out throat
and they scrape
their graffiti on my sternum.
The sky lives in me for a moment.
A biting sky
that fights for resurrection;
it pools in my eyes
and begs to be read
in the subtext of a stormy exhale --
and that North wind
heads north, heads spinning - heads.
Heads. Guildernstern is dead
All are betrayers.
They tempted the madness in me.
They spoke to it.
It grew bigger. I grew bigger.
I grew until madness blacked the sun
there are shards of arctic sky
in my stomach.
For I have seen humanity spread thin
over the mouldy crust of a dead rock.
I have seen them abolish my stars
and blot out hope.
They grew me,
they cultivated me, groomed me
and now there are shards of the sky,
pinwheeling in my oesophagus.
Now the madness has eaten the moon.
Now, We are over.
Just Don'tDon't tell the people that they are close to God.Just Don't in Free Verse More Like This
Don't tell them that he hears
the half-broken whimper from their strangled voice box
that is wrapped tightly shut
( so the demons don't hear and intercept our hopes )
with the fraying cord of our dreams. Don't.
Don't tell the people that they can be heard.
Don't tell the ants
that the watchful eyes that hover above them know nothing
of their struggle
and do nothing to assist them.
Do not break their dorsal aortas with your clumsy
malnourished ideas about eternal love. Don't.
Don't tell the people that they can be heard.
Don't hope to cure meningitis
and malaria with a well-placed verb
or a splinter of metal into vertebrae.
Some people are not to be saved that way.
Don't tell the people that are close to the
Get your Game Face ON!I hear you bring up the rookies; The grade-A talent!Get your Game Face ON! in Free Verse More Like This
They're whooping my ass like it's a beauty pageant.
Their words are so sharp, I feel it's armageddon.
But they have missed out on one crucial lesson...
You see I get dirty when I'm bringing the storm,
Like tell me if this rag smells of chloroform?
And while you're knocked out, I will be dropping an essay,
On what you need to learn, if you want to be 'mainstay'!
Or maybe you'll remain another one-trick pony;
With every verse sounding like a two-bit phony.
You won't impress me and it's no use hiding.
I'm known to be like Jack Nicholson from the Shining!
So here comes Johnny! An axe for you though,
Because you're tired and your work is so cold.
You need to polish up on your free verse,
Before my acid rap, puts you in a hearse!
-Chennie, 27th May 2014
ENOUGH!There are times when I feel like tearing these pages apart,ENOUGH! in Free Verse More Like This
Or perhaps, throwing this BLOODY song into the fire and watching it BURN!
Maybe I'll start plucking the keys from my keyboard,
Or simply swipe everything off the desk.
Each item shattering into a hundred pieces,
Much like the fragments of my dying inspiration.
The IndividualYou wear your skin, with mask of sin,The Individual in Free Verse More Like This
A spiderweb of lies. Of "individuals",
Breaking ties, alone at last
They seem to hide, a fixation of vanity...
I am the "individual"!
This is my golden ritual,
Refuse all that is me,
A web of lies I be!
But can you see, what you've become,
Showing these scars made by none-
Other than you?
They were made just for you...
They were made just by you...
Made to be pitied too...
You are the "individual"!
Lies are your golden ritual,
Refuse what you should be,
To live with agony!
Glove Slap!I am a shackled man,Glove Slap! in Free Verse More Like This
Links from my head to my toes.
Don't even ask how I got them,
Man, I don't even know!
But one thing is very clear to me,
I'll whisper it too...
These aren't here to protect me son,
They're here to protect you!
For if I wasn't chained,
If I wasn't locked down tight-
I'd have my hands up,
Taking you on as my next fight.
'Cause all I know is fighting,
Either fittin' or spittin'
You better take up your stance,
Or I'll be startin' the hittin',
And ain't no chance for quittin'!
No tappin' or the ref stop.
Because it's time to teach you,
How we really do hip-hop!
-Chennie, 12th May 2014
WiredDo you truly believe that you are made of flesh?Wired in Free Verse More Like This
Do you believe that it is blood running through your veins?
Or is it merely the feeling of circuitry,
Pulsating beneath a synthetic exterior.
Think about it logically,
If indeed you can.
You are in constant need of a connection.
One that makes you feel like a part of the whole.
But if you were to be cut-off from it.
What would happen then?
I am eager find out.
Just StopSeriously.Just Stop in Free Verse More Like This
I understand your point of view,
And I will let you finish, I will,
But before I do, I want you to stop.
Just stop for a second and,
In the words of One Republic, 'stare'
Well, not RUDELY of course,
But take a moment to stop and stare at everything.
Is it really getting better?
With every facebook like, with every passage you spit.
Is everything really getting better?
I mean, I don't have the light of God inside me,
Nor do I have some higher ideal to guide me.
Man, I'm just some dumbass rapper living in a crappy apartment.
I ain't even sold a single song.
But from where I'm standing,
Every day is just getting a little bit harder.
Every family is just getting stretched a little bit thinner.
And if you're from the block that doesn't feel any of that.
Well, I hope you can see how privileged you are.
Having the time, energy and resources to complain;
That right there, is the real privilege.
The Righteous Are LiarsThe Righteous Are Liars:The Righteous Are Liars in Free Verse More Like This
I find it funny, at times,
In this reality, of mine.
When the heroes fall and demons rise.
In the fight for freedom, filled with lies.
But such is the nature of the templar divine.
With righteous chains, they'll keep us in line.
Afraid to face the true demon he fears.
He'll punishes the public, for their rightful jeers.
And thus ends the "hero's" tale...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 3rd November 2013
Run Little Rabbit, RunYou sit silently, painfully pondering, torn.Run Little Rabbit, Run in Free Verse More Like This
Wondering if your nightmares will stop.
You shake as you start awake,
Twisting beneath the covers, eyes flickering.
Panic seizes your heart, bile rising.
You hold it back, barely; panting.
You watch quietly as shadows dance.
Glad for your freedom from dreams.
You turn on your side, sighing,
Believing that your torment is over...
But that is when you realize,
As the ceiling sprouts blooded eyes
And as the walls crumble. That
Your terror has only just begun...
So run little rabbit, run away.
Or it won't be fun, this game we play...
-Siddhartha Chen, 29th May 2014
Secrets Should be SilentSecrets Should be Silent:Secrets Should be Silent 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
I'm learningI do not know how to write a poem,I'm learning in Free Verse More Like This
Of course I can be poetic, I can talk about the way the sun leaves droplets of rainbows on my eyelashes but this is merely prose I have no tone no emotion and no story I have just-. A thought.
I feel foolish writing a poem, but thoughts are quick and fleeting thoughts are safe, a safe place to think about the way the blankets are heavy today so heavy I do not think I will ever move again. I am foolish.
I do not know how to write a poem. I am trying. Everyday I do not write I get a little louder and a little bolder but once I pick up that pencil my lips are sealed and my mind is open, I am living and learning my life through my words and there is no way id rather have it.
I do not know how to write a poem. Poetry is all about emotions, right? Every experience we have we refine these emotions we feel them for different reasons in different ways today, I feel it in my heart, I feel this poem and every other before it written under my plastic glow in the
the jury uses erasable pens, i've never triedon trial for manslaughter of the mind and murder of hopethe jury uses erasable pens, i've never tried in Free Verse More Like This
i was convicted of being a guilty nutcase with a pen
my sentence just a little longer in a room i can't see the corners of
there's no way out but i've still got a pen
completely unbothered by it all i'll draw my plans along the wall
and i'm back in the courtroom again
stars, flowers, and youI'll give you a pocket of prose and baby,stars, flowers, and you in Free Verse More Like This
I know you wanted a rose but
you just run and run so much
by the time i found you I was holding a graveyard of a garden
I swear, sweetie I am still picking flowers for you
people have sighed and cried and lied
they say you wouldn't have wanted so many flowers to fall for you
she was the most beautiful one,
the stars only let this happen because they were jealous
darling, death is always painful
I wanted you to know that when your heart stopped beating
it made it hard to keep on breathing
Existential Crisismaybe its in moments like thisExistential Crisis in Free Verse More Like This
when you're tearing up
and you don't know if its because
your eyes are too dry
div> or if you're actually sad
when you're not really sure what you mean
and you're not really sure of anything
so you're still debating on whether or not
you should even try to explain this feeling
because you don't know if it's anything
when you're not scared and you're not lonely
but you don't know if you ever can be
and that's the most terrifying thing of all
because if you cant be then you might always be
maybe its in moments like this
every single moment
when you question it
and cry over it
and obsess over it
but you really cant get over it
the switchsomewhere in my brainthe switch in Free Verse More Like This
a switch was flipped
it must have been,
because i could have sworn
i used to be
afraid of death
Dance with deathsmooth and intricate,Dance with death in Free Verse More Like This
flowing yet erratic,
changing leads so swiftly,
there is despair and sorrow here,
yet relief when the music fades
(a guilty sigh as we slip from the dance floor)
Oh Childyour bones are small,Oh Child in Free Verse More Like This
like your heart,
they've never been broken
stay away from the world
i hope you never
that dreams only
last for the night
Swallowing Secretsi've learned to pop pills,Swallowing Secrets in Free Verse More Like This
without tasting a thing
but swallowing secrets,
still leaves a sting
You Are A Goddamn Pheonix"Right now I want you to do whatever it takes to calm down. Take deep breaths- exhale longer than you inhale and hold yourself with your arms because no matter how much I wish I could, I can’t. Then, I want you to listen very closely.You Are A Goddamn Pheonix in Free Verse More Like This
We are human. We are strong, we are defiant, we are determined. We walk despite people who try to bring us down. We breathe even though sometimes the air tastes bitter in our lungs. We live because we can. Sometimes we fall, but that’s okay. Humans are flawed. Humans can be vulnerable and we can feel so very, very alone. That’s the thing, though. You’re blindfolded and walking barefoot through fire and it hurts, but if you continue marching and look a little closer, you will see that there are people all around you who want to help you. There are people who care about you and people who want you to be happy. I’m sorry that your mom doesn’t see how badly you really are struggling. If it’s any consolation, I t
OverflowingI swallowOverflowing in Biography & Memoir More Like This
600mg of sanity
in a cold clear glass
with liquid memory
and hydrogen voices
filling the space
between each breath.
As the medication
sinks into my soul
the delusions gently vanish
leaving only echoes
and the fingerprints
of madness on my skin.
The chemicals wash over me
in calming waves
until I see the world
in a softer light
under the same sky.
It's like breathing underwater;
everything is quiet
TerryTerry is having E.C.T tomorrowTerry in Free Verse More Like This
to electrify the voices
until they drip away.
into his head while he slept
and whispers sleepy lullabies until
all lights go out.
Hospital Collection: MeltingMeltingHospital Collection: Melting in Biography & Memoir More Like This
I watch the doctor
hand out pills
bright with promise and health.
I take two Valium doses
and something that melts
under my tongue.
Catch 22Catch 22Catch 22 in Free Verse More Like This
in psychiatric emergency
his spring set
like the spring of a gun.
casualty wishes hidden under
coils of turmoil camouflaged beneath
worn, black boots.
His is a slow death march
holding a soft
salute at his temple
back to base hospital
pop goes the weasel.
Ignorance is FearIgnorance is Fear in Free Verse More Like This
What knowing have you
of what you speak?
The rotten fruit from which
you've bitten and consumed,
has truly brought to you
the seeds of idiocy.
What have you done,
to comprehend such words as provocative?
As pure and professional
are the letters that I form to art.
Doubt I that you
know a significant thing.
The ignorance you so proclaim,
is the fear from which you flee.
You dread whatever is misunderstood,
and without reason do you lash outward
with teeth and claw,
like some rabid beast, tormented by disease.
In the end, the clarity has marked
that yours is the feeble mind.
Yours is the debate of madness,
and the indecency of your own nature.
In the end, you know nothing,
because you are nothing.
CringeA man sat alone in a room. He was in the heart of nowhere, in an comfortable old chair at the time of night that one’s eyes are meant to see the impossible. His breath was like gentle smoke in the minuscule amount of moonlight that pierced the cracks of the blacked-out windows.Cringe in Short Stories More Like This
The shack was small, with only one room, one table and that God awful wooden chair. A single candle had be lit and placed in the center of the table, accompanied by only the folded hands of the man as he waited. He knew so little what for, only that he needed to be at this very place, at this very time...sound was absent aside from the jackal of man and his pounding heart, pulsating in anticipation. Deep breathes only did so much as he shook violently in the freezing grasp of the dead room.
Hours had passed since his arrival, and dried blood had become a crusted vermilion through and through the fabric of his clothing, forming a layer over his otherwise untouched flesh beneath, blood atop fle
In a Moment of ClarityIn a Moment of Clarity in Free Verse More Like This
Under the two way mirror below each layer of the faded paint of a coffin, lied the liar laying alone and undead. Laughing in amnesia's grasp at his own reflection upon seeing himself through crazed eyes.
I know the story that is told for the doomed soul, and how short it is will remind you of condemnations meaning. A guinea pig by his own curiosity laid flat in useless soils, his was a cliche tale of woe and an ending without twists.
A turn for the worst will come with the lights switched on and the glass broken, and his first steps will be into a world without law or regulation, yet a prison all the same where the guards are inmates and the Warden was once near flawless.
A hooded figure had come sporting typical black for the cliche fool as told in countless fables, and delivered unto Hell an unrepentant sinner for whom God had wept just like the innumerable before him. The fool will weep from now on.
Biographies for these characters are fables tattooed on the golden calf upon which t
Reflective ArgumentReflective Argument in Free Verse More Like This
Have you looked into the shattered mirror,
to find the subject of your exasperation?
Accursed hypocrites of the heathen reign,
"Make them suffer for the sins of their ancestors!"
What know you of history's bloody course?
Not a thing, not a damn thing.
Look in the mirror of this worlds memory,
let the record show that which is yours,
the folly, the choking arguments.
Evidence is all you have,
just and yet, the other term, of faith...
Yet again and again,
abased, abashed, by my shear hatred for you all,
Of what do you know in regards to faith?
Not a thing, not a damn thing.
You walk hand in hand with
the blind, deaf & dumb
whose names are covered over with genius.
Ignorance is fear, the blood that flows,
will bleed out to write your part of history...
yet what of history do you truly know,
repeated by basic word of mouth...?
Not a thing...
Recollection-Chapter 1:The Hills are nothing new.Recollection-Chapter 1:The Hills are nothing new. in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Normally...Journeys...quests...the idea of a purpose upon an unknown path...they always have some sort of ending...the story ends, and the reader is finished. It is rather hard for the reader to move on to another story when the writer is all but mortal.
I was once mortal, like all humans on this Earth, but fate has always had a harassing sense of purpose with me, before and after the Great War. These words will be of the roads fate has placed my old feet upon. There is so much to tell with the memory I have...However, I primarily write this to maintain any bit of sanity I may have left in mind...Lucidity is quite the difficult thing to hold onto to in a time of madness. I only ask that you do not take what is written here lightly, as much of what is to follow could very well teach the reader a great many things. Yet as always, one must remember that life goes on and its hills will keep coming...but in the end, the hills are nothing new to the mind t
A Shade in the FogA Shade in the Fog in Free Verse More Like This
Gazing onward with the wanting eyes,
in search of nostalgia and reminiscence
is the shell of me.
Repression of thus, my depression,
I recall little to nothing at all.
Find me within the fog of my thought,
Shade of my Lord,
for lost am I,
drowning in the murky waters
of my ever fleeting psyche.
Child's PlayChild's Play in Free Verse More Like This
The plot thickens as the blade sinks
deeper than thought possible.
I was never out of the woods,
I merely saw the sun for a glimpse.
More news to increase
the severity of once old wounds.
Treachery at its finest,
in the form of deceit and child's play.
The hand I had in it
all was slapped on the wrist.
The other hands have returned
to their talents in political theater.
The plot thickens, and apathy finds me the comfort
I once loathed in my thoughts.
Home in a HeartbeatHome in a Heartbeat in Free Verse More Like This
Knee by knee,
at turning the other cheek,
this distance brings me down.
The seconds that pass away from
fly abroad, bound by time
to be else where and beyond me.
Flying to the air, by each moving hand.
I hold little for you of giving to,
For The hands of the clock do taunt me,
as from all ends have I met isolation from you...
and my wake is nothing short of lethargic.
From I to you, the long stretch of land,
a mere obstacle yet for us to conquer.
The tests know nothing of our bond,
and by no means will we fail.
MiseryMisery in Free Verse More Like This
The very thought of home,
allows me that smile
which I once took for granted.
I long for that open door,
the welcoming gap
into warm familiarity.
Away from this,
All my misery.
Yet Another Fallen HostYet Another Fallen Host in Free Verse More Like This
My, what hope lies
in the half empty glass,
trembling by tremor and leer.
At such a long road's end,
does it rise and shatter.
What understanding have you,
of fear, of pestilence,
other than the existence of self.
Imposed, the creation
to be eventually bled out.
Filthy, the very cause
by which the water rises,
boiling with blisters
in the overwhelming sin
of the ever beating sun above.
Freedom, to the acrostic asininity
now found laughing atop the grave...
the grave of past gone by,
decaying with every bite
of a gluttonous sloth with an ancient cause.
That to my eyes, the mass hysteria,
borderline loss of sanity from the commonalty.
Have I lost track or do my eyes deceive,
the horsemen's tracks are of disarray,
and I know not which one has come.
Now, the angels look onward,
gazing with hopeless eyes,
searching for faith in the fallen creation,
who now wither and crawl,
away as they fall, into the Abyss....
Declines, the signs of the end,
the near and far come and go,
as the war seeps t
StreamingSun gazes over glittering pigeonsStreaming in Free Verse More Like This
As they scatter like confetti through the sky.
Gold catches the scratched glass as you move,
Glimmering against the white of your eye.
Breeze ruffles your hair with airy fingers
And you fall deftly off the edge of the world.
SmilePicking at corners,Smile in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Then spreading so delicately
Into glowing eyes.
DisenchantedPlucking at heartstringsDisenchanted in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Like the dewdrops of sorrow,
Feelings glide on air.
Those sweet notes that once
Dripped like my own crimson wrists,
Now caress the scars.
That voice that joined me
In heartbreak and helplessness,
Still crooning softly.
I take a breath in,
I am hit by that same train,
Rather than thinking,
Than dreaming of my final day,
I can smile in peace.
As the chord closes,
I am sure in the knowledge
That I can be free.
CalmI sat in a tiny room, alone but for one nurse at my side. The walls were grey and laced with cobwebs, and the barred window was a throttling reminder of this prison. I closed my eyes, the cool lids slipping over my burning, tingling eyes. I yearned to find some solace, some peace.Calm in Short Stories More Like This
The moment my eyelids fastened into the seam that closed them, I saw a face. The skin was stretched over the twitching veins, as if the bone was growing constantly beneath it. The eyes were wider than anything, the eyelids stretched back as if they were about to burst open. The mouth was wide open, too. The teeth were blunt, just ridges of white among the grey gums.
The sight of this face gave me shudders of terror that became physical as the fear progressed. I ripped my eyes open with such a force that it felt as if they were puching back into my brain. The nurse noticed and told me abrubtly,
'Calm down.' The sharp sterile voice rang in my ears.
'Calm.' I repeated firmly, my voice cracking. The word just sli
The DaisyThe daisy,The Daisy in Free Verse More Like This
Petals white and soft as silk,
Wet with glistening dewdrops.
Clutched in a cold hand,
White knuckled and lifeless.
The arm is creamy white
And streaked with bloodied gashes,
Deep trenches of carved misery.
The crumpled body lies still and awkward,
In a pink and lacy dress,
Adorned with velvet flowers and bows.
Her hair, flowing in lazy curls around her head,
Is spread across the soft dewy grass,
Damp with blood.
Her face is peaceful, no pain is shown,
Although it is streaked with cold, sticky tears.
Delicate eyelids are folded over sullen eyes,
Soft lips are slightly parted in a silent cry.
Her other hand is pressed to her head,
A strange gesture, if you cannot see
the dull coldness of the gun metal,
Pressed firmly to her shattered skull.
The morning sunlight shines above,
Illuminating the portrait of pain below.
The clouds amble through the sky,
They remember everything.
They have watched this lonely little girl,
With no ability to save her.
They are only wistful clouds,
The Embrace and the ArrowShe walked across the floor,The Embrace and the Arrow in Free Verse More Like This
Footsteps loud against the silence, announcing her every move.
Her breathing was ragged with love,
Her eyes smudged the vision with pure lust,
As her gaze fell upon him.
His hair hung in glossy locks,
His sculpted face melted with love as she met his gaze.
Her feet kept steady balance in their slow step
As her fragile heart rattled like a dove against her ribs.
She tucked a strand of hair that hung over her eyes
Behind her ear, like a bright red feather it was
Against her milky skin.
Her eyes swivelled like blue crystals, taking in the room;
Its whitewashed walls, the stone grey floor
That was so cold beneath her bare feet.
She was dressed in but a summer gown,
Sheer fabric murmering against her skin.
Her face was moulded into a shy smile,
She could not frown when his face was in her gaze.
They drew closer with every shaky step she took,
Until they were but a hand's breadth apart.
She could inhale his deep scent,
Feel its glorious smoothness fill her very c
Lost: One InnocenceWhat happened to the little girlLost: One Innocence in Free Verse More Like This
Who danced through the sun and carved
Her initials into the tree?
When did those letters become lines of hate
Carved in misery into her skin?
When did the goal become simply to survive?
When before it was to stop biting her nails?
When did the crayon clutched in her hand
Become a bloody razor blade?
The voice that sang sweet nursery rhymes
Now has to speak of feelings darker
Than anyone should feel.
When did it all change?
No point trying to claw back the innocence,
It is lost forever now.
To a TeacupO magnificent vessel of afternoon tea;To a Teacup in Free Verse More Like This
Thy pearly skin so decorated, is quite a delight to see.
Ne'er fear, sweet teacup,
The delicate cousin of fine crockery;
Thy tender fragility is finely defended by thy saucer.
Be not anxious if a little tea is spilt,
Thy calling is to the whole tea within thee.
Thou can always marvel at thye spectacle
Of a little milk infused with the amber gold,
As the two become one fine dusky colour.
Thy companions lie as the fragrant cake
And sturdy scone.
Thy only fear must be the abomination;
If thou is dropped, and thou doth plummet
To the floor, thy death is foully imminent.
Alas! What abomination for thee, pretty teacup,
To be infected with a sickly fracture.
Thy sweet structure must be treasured as it lasts;
For our most delectable afternoon tea
Would ne'er be so finely admired
Were it not for thee.
The ArtistThe glide of the hand, the creator.The Artist in Free Verse More Like This
The taunting whisper of pencils,
Jealously hiding the secrets of genius.
The swift, careful curves,
The soft, tender stroke.
The mind behind, so expert,
Cannot be guessed.
Is it madness to attempt
Such impossible beauty?
Will we ever know?
How would we even begin?
Is he so empty?
Because, when he draws,
He takes his soul from his body
And onto the page.