*a black heart drowning in euphoria*

Death

Forensics Of

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I’ve been zoning out from reality
Dreaming of dreams that will never be
Life that time has stolen from me
People who I’ll never meet or meet again…

My soul caught fire when I’ve settled for hell
Disguised as this world
Now no man can save me.

I’ve drank a cup of fire
And I’m vomiting cold blades
I keep losing myself in the gloom of these seven shades
The worst truth is that I have never lived a lie
…and I have never lived
and I can’t wish I never did.
Undrown me so I can breathe!

I can’t wish I never lived
even if Truth be this.
When I’m morose I master my expertise
When I’m a master they think I’m diseased, decreased or deceased.
Where then shall I maintain my honesty
If it has no place in every society?
Forensics of a poet’s tragedy

Physics of the bullets of agony
That missed my brains and bludgeoned my heart without touching it…
Gun ballistics and fluid dynamics
When the scenes are so serene
But the past is a redout.

Blackout!

How many times, without dying, did I really end my Life? Did I?
How many crimes of mediocrity have unmade me?
How many dead stars extracted my wishes from my memories?
How many vultures have been staring at me for all eternity
While I lay petrified watching corpses rise as zombies

How deep, severe, have I been severed,
immersed in the wailing of sunshine..
Why was sunshine wailing?
Though I feel like a dancing skeleton with flappy hollow wings
I’m not the ghost that’s pointing at me.

I keep doing the forensics of my own tragedy
When I dream of dreams that will never be
And ache for the Life that probably eludes me…
Until I can see the people who are still really there.
Then,
Like a moon at daytime hiding behind a burst of clouds
I zone back to reality
And see what I can make of me.


Almost The Saddest Poem

_n

I wanna sing the saddest songs as if I would die…
Pre-death pre-burial requiems…
Lethal notes… Morose words and non-words…
I wanna sing the saddest songs as if I would live forever –
Forever in the dungeons of my benevolence.

And then, I wanna cry my soul out as if I’ve lost God…
But first, wish that I still have a soul for I no longer know…
I wanna run in circles within an untamed wilderness
to feel that I am not lost, in circles, running and wanting untamed…
after my tears have equalled the waves of all the world’s seas
including her… her tsunamis of centuries…

I want to find myself at the edge of a snow-capped mountain and never rest
then scream my frozen lungs out after expelling my guts,
scream until I hear only the sound of my recovered voice –
the one that could read and write sadder than almost the saddest poem…

Distorted and soul-starved,…

What did I say?

Straving for my soul,
I don’t ache to feel a little less alive…
Nor do I merely ache…
My madness does not represent a longing for joy.
Madness sways beyond the barbwires of longings.
Thus, not even a longing for death.
(You don’t need to die to be dead).
My loneliness is not soothed by company.
Loneliness is glory!
My burden blinds with the northern lights best in darnkess.
My passions severe the cosmos with their controlled nonexistence…
There is nothing more worse for me and ill
than the brooding mediocrity when I do not sing when I will.

—–
NOTES:

“Almost the Saddest Poem” is a remake of The Saddest Poem. But herein, the context changes somehow but the end-point remains. How can not being able to sing (no matter how you sound or don’t sound as silence can be music) be so sad? P.S. The titles have nothing to do with the levels of sadness in each of them.


Of Time…

toddlers58

Sometimes,
good intentions without understanding result to worse things.
Sometimes,
it’s better to not understand beings and simply respect feelings.

Ripples of thoughts
of wonders and sorrows
severe his mind gracefully
at the wrong time….

All in non-extremes
beg for attention
when the only Freedom starts with Detention…
Isolation
Seemingly Zombiefication
– A Liberation they know nothing of.

Pink and Green
Images of woe
Images of Joy
Disprove Slumber

-THE DEATH WAS REAL!

It was a nightmare that came before sleep
It was a dream that happened because he awakened…

But now he must awaken again….

There is a pool of woe in the Southeast,
and fish in the cold air up North to the West…
He knows no other waters but woe.

Time stops in this climax of suffering.

The LIFE was real…

Sometimes,
he gets swallowed up in a time machine…
and knows just about too many things…
Sometimes…
he only thought of time…

He cries to sleep,
wakes up the same,
blood flowing through his veins
and outside of them.

Splashes of blood
on this mundane floor
drown him gently
in sweet Sunday gloom.


Beyond the Noise

Zandvoort

There’s no comfort for my chosen solitude
In a crowd where I don’t seem forlorn…
Sunshine’s not my friend in Winter
When my heart and soul breaks torn…
Beyond the noise, although I feel the peace,
I also feel the grimmer breeze…
I’ve tweaked my brains to make myself believe
That I don’t have everything I need…


You Are Your Diction – Revision

Revision of You’re Only As Deep As Your Diction

An exchange of words doesn’t mean a conversation has commenced.
Sometimes people communicate better in silence.

You’ll be surprised with what Silence can say
And disgusted with what a thousand words can not.
The timing of holding your tongue
Perfects your mastery on wielding the words you’ve got.

Diction is action.

Action is one of those things that we truly own.
Yet, it’s one of those things most people die to give away.

Action is Life.

Live your own short Life and love it.
For we were all made not to last in this precious form,
A hymn of envy that fallen angels have sung…
As they attempt to battle Eternity contained within our dying selves.

These are underrated statements.

A good man lives in God’s time.
The non-inquisitive are confounded.
Have you seen a deeper soul than one that has settled
Its confounded passions for diversities unrelented?

Do not risk falling asleep and waking up
With things you can not wake up to. Forgive.
Do not risk falling asleep and waking up
With things your soul aches not to die with. Live.

These are scarcely practiced values.

You have not been hired to make an appearance on Earth,
You were gladly brought into it and invited
To savor the glory of the fullest of Life and what isn’t.
To not merely scratch the surface of Heaven and Hell and finish untainted.

While favorites are fine, how would you know there are better things in Life
If you’ve shut your ears exclusive to just one genre of music?
Find all your assets a glass half full or a glass half empty –
Inevitably you always have something and that is terrific!

These are inceptions to tell you what ‘Difference’ means.

PRESERVATION is the name of a false god.
Reservation, one of his forms;
Should you check if you’ve descended towards being a god,
See if you enviously live within self-righteous norms…

Then one need not tell you how awful you’ve been,
With all your lame deceit.
Vanity will wear your soul as its crown
An you would seem very proud of it.

These are some of the willful deadly sins…

A willing man is moved by his desire
To achieve and not by his desire to please;
Thus, you’ll perceive nothing mundane from a willing man
And his gestures with good intentions shall always give ease.

Those who always say they want to die
Usually mean they are dying to live
Those who are closely incapable of tears
Usually suffer greater than those who did…

These are a flow of flaws so common.

Don’t use your mouth for the deaf.
Don’t use visuals for the blind.
Don’t bother to touch the numb.
Find the functional or leave it behind…

Most often, a curse is a gift you just don’t understand
Or a gift you know not how to use.
It’s too strange not to be strange…
Deepen your prayers and you’ll know not to abuse.

These are the neglected obvious.

Seeing the wrongs is a chance to make things better.
So smile when you see one, and multiply those smiles when you do.
If you can see the disasters of others and find the light amidst your own
Then you won’t question your heart when it tells you who are you…

He who despairs to keep what’s beautiful
By wasting off every bit of beauty it bares
He had never had and will never have
But the aftersense of Asmodeus glares.

These, like pride, are just but other forms of insecurity.

Your temptations are not only meant to destroy you,
But to make you a means to destroy
Something bigger and brighter than you.
Look outside your self and furthermore enjoy…

You can never understand something real
When you’re listening with a fake ear.
A good listener knows when and how
To make someone shut up and tame his falsified ear.

These are some aspects of proper co-existence.

It’s not a relationship if one can not relate.
You can not cut a bridge that you’re still crossing unless you want to fall in vain.
The less you are in a prayerful life, the more sick you’ll become..
Begging your dawns and brief nights be spared by chaotic rain.

There’s no such shallowness to which real depth can not compensate;
So kiss with your ears when your lips have failed. Yes, kiss…
Look with your eyes closed when you can’t find while they’re wide open
There’s quite a gain you’d get for life’s every haunting miss.

This could be but a circus of words, should you chose to make it.


If Ever Again…

me

Everything is at stake for my soul, and I’d be drawing closer to Hell’s entrapment
and would burn graver enough to give Hell a good name before I reach it,
should I suffer the same horrors over and over again
aside from each one’s aftereffects.
Hell would be stripped off of its place in extremity
and the pain and madness within me shall overthrow it.


How Do You Take A Death?

How do you take a death,
When the weight of its pain
Brings you to your knees
And stabs you repeatedly
As you bleed through most sorrowful tears?

How do you take a death,
When its cold bludgeons you frozen
Makes you crawl to nowhere
In all your disbelief
When you try to justify Life’s loss…

…and find out there’s no Justice…
For an angel born in a new home, Heaven…

Do you question the Lord,
Do you blame Him for the choice of the cause
The mistakes, the circumstances,
The manner of death,
The suffering much less than you now have to endure?

Know there is justice….
For an angel born in a new home, Heaven…

Do not question the Lord…
If not to get answers.
You can not take a death…
Unless it is yours…

And you can live in honor
Of all the good your lost love have done alive
And you can live in respect
To all the wishes of our beloved departed…
Accepting an angel is born
In a better home we call Heaven…