*a black heart drowning in euphoria*

Author Archive

No Elegy

March. One equinox has gone.
Thoughts swirling but in a fading spring
when flowers start to bloom

if they have not died in winter flames…

Writing films in my head with a held-back pen –
Stolen songs orchestrate the score.

Cherry blossoms make me blush no more…

Every now and then
my presence is no longer felt.
The sunlight awakens
every now and then.
Random restlessness
play a dirge for the dire thoughts that are too relentless…

I laugh with a katana five millimeters
left of my heart,
Admiring how torments come from what may never be art!

Who dances to dirges
and what kinds of dances would those be?

We all know the sun doesn’t set.
We all know the sun doesn’t rise.
We make and take same illusion to relish
our cages repeatedly
by “its”

glorious captivation,

because we are tired, being the ones in constant motion…

Who said illusions aren’t real?

Who murders dreamers?
Who rapes visionaries while covering their faces with the stinking clothes they took off to violate?
I wrote this song for I think we’re ending
If we haven’t ended yet.
But this in no elegy

for it is an ending that never ends and


My Baby Aquaman

My little tenor
My great big hero
With stellar eyes
That enshrine the skies
My spotless joy
Who makes me whole
Who gifts me with
My salient role
Whose laughter showers
Me with peace
Burning sorrows
Into scents of ease
Resilient one
And Baby Aquaman
Love vaster than seas
Exceeding what man can
Who strides in his paths
And sings and laughs
Like every sense
In most brilliant paragraphs
Flower charmer
Jolly soul
Enchanted by
The things you know
The way your eyebrows cross
Each time you speculate
The way you make me laugh
Repeatedly until my jaws would ache
The way you teach yourself
to speak our languages
Kreiscircle! Until you finally could say correctly “rectangle”!
Right after octagon
And nanogon and pentagon
And learning how to write with polygons

A zzz
The letter A as you turned two
Count to fiveteen sixteen
Then finally fifteen to seventy two!
Painting abstracts in your own way
Swirling fingers to draw your shapes in the air…
Painting the pricelessness of life
Saying and singing God bless the moon and the stars
Falsetto when shy
Nothing can break your melodies the moment you try..
Dancing so gloriously
There’s nothing that you don’t do so happily…
Claiming the time that I owe you each day
As you’re patient enough to let go when I can’t stay…
You are my everything,
What makes a queen worth giving a crown
What makes the drowned undrown..
My little tenor
My great big hero
You summon sweet infinity
From a point less than zero
Keep singing your songs
Preserve your keen and innocent ways
Keep daring as you do
Keep finding the marvel outside and within you..
You’ve moved mountains before you were born…
You can never be broken. You may never be torn.
You are light like Christ,
You’ll rule the days and the nights!
Keep seeing the world as God had made it to be
Keep seeking Him everywhere
And be who you’re meant to be..


Forensics Of

535160_3351538261477_21626289_n

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.


Where Oh Where to Take the Stars

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Where oh where oh where to take the stars,
My dearest, sweetest whom I must guide away from liars…

Time stretches her arms to extend despondency
Autumn mirrors my melancholy….

Yet the world’s sourly wrought ages,
Wrinkle primitive inclinations…
Unembraces callously
Beings composed in disintegration…

A contained container with contents somewhere else…
The song of the wind in a planet Mars….
Ridiculous words that deceive the self-proclaimed
Astronauts who have never seen the stars…

We’ve ceased to understand what impediments are
As we merely speak of them from our inner gnomes…
Scattering ourselves without motion,
Feigning malfunctions in our chromosomes..

If tides and currents make good scours
We’ll be mistaking them for scars…

Maxims, Axioms, Dictums of who?
Unbuild my dreams and break my rhymes…
Meridians prime, where I can’t find
The over-stalked lover in Pacific’s crimes

Magnetic Storms cast me frozen
While I hold the burnings stars…
I must stretch Time’s arms even longer
For a diameter’s half that breaks seven bars…

My dearest child, kept in gray
I hope we both don’t ever go astray…


Strained Epoch

Not Quite King But Still

Strained, stranded, strained epoch.
In my moors you were a monarch.
I chose my gardens
And wept for shoots scattered lost in unwilling population…
Magnificence was stripped off me.
I was skinned off my sweetness
My beautiful woes and sorrows, no longer succulent.
Devoid of sympathy
Sugar-coating with apathy.
I gave myself away to the world…
Their selfies and definitions (so sickening)
Based on owned technologies exalted in false worth.
Lost to genius…
Clouds transformed into mere storage
For our mental waste
Corpses from emotional tragedies…
Violence spreading
From keys without notes, beginning.
Blindly connoting,
While the real world and word go missing…
I choose you in another world and life.


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.


Did You Know About Anchors?

(First Unfinished Draft and Middle Part)

Beautiful Souls

From a journey through layers from the ocean floor
We’ve smiled at its species, as we lovingly drawn close to their open doors…

Oh how man would give up his breaths,
To say hello to a clown in anemones…
And no matter how relentlessly expiring,
Life holds eternity in moments like these…

When I rose above the ocean water,
You were walking, satisfied, towards the shore.. .
My vision was still filtered and blurry
Yet I was magnificently seeing more…

Rain drizzled down enchantingly
On the calm and waveless sea…
It was bright and dim and dark all at the same time
In a moment of Life most sublime…

And as water kissed water
The sun couldn’t help but provide
A unique spotlight for every unique drop
And made the glow in your soul even more bright…
Suddenly, diamonds were dancing afloat,
Surrounding our humble family boat…
Their sparks froze such serene Settings in fleeting eternity
But the focus remained on the man Still walking slowly ahead of me…

Did you know,
That I see through your eyes and from my own?
It is a gift of gifts within me…
That you have sown and grown…


He Is A Song

Life At Its Fullest - Peewee

Reach the summit of a mountain
Kiss the floor of the sea
In all of Life’s adventures
There is a song in me

He is the love
And Epic reward
From God to all of us here
He’s lived a good life
Been giving good love
And on his 80th year
We thank the Lord
This man is a song
Who’ll live on…

So walk the gravel and cement
Of busy city streets
Convert the traffic into jazz
With this legend in your ears

He is the love
And Epic reward
From God to all of us here
He’s lived a good life
Been giving good love
And on his 80th year
We thank the Lord
This man is a song
Who’ll live on…


No Love That Can’t

No Love That Can't

I know no love apart from madness,
no love that can’t fear unspeakably and yet, still dare
I know no love without insurmountable woe,
No love that can’t hold exuberant eternity in a blink so mundane…

I know no love that can’t magically take last breaths for ages
just wanting so enthusiastically to be there…
I know no love not selfless;
No love that can’t meet death unshaken…

I know no love without phenomenal outcomes,
no love that actually ends…
I know no love that merely lasts
but love that creates instances of glorious eternity

I know no love that doesn’t hold Heaven.
I know no love that can’t.

* dedicated to my grandfather Pio Espineda
December 4, 1930 – September 11, 2013
and to all who love *


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.


From The Heaven-Empowered Lady Echoing Non-sense

View from Emscherpark in Duisburg

To the Catastrophic, Aggressive Stoic – The Ordinary Rebel,
To the Profound, Outstandingly Loving Lunatic Unbound – X,
You can not waste your life wishing to die,
Nor spend it not wanting enough to live…
Because you search so passionately for the Golden Fleece…
And with blood and heart have expanded immortality…

White Light, bright fire,
Look up to yourself with your feet on the ground,
You’ve claimed so many wrong places to be heaven
And see not your own place in it…
In darkness, the sky is your mirror,
Can you see not how wonderful you are?

But you are much more than that.


Foul Way Of Love

(something written some years ago)
Duisburg

Wake up in breathless mourning glory
Cheat and blame the skies
Turn your back on the stunning light before you
Drift off and die.

The devil shows you a tease
So you go on and pry
Pretending it won’t hurt more to stain more
So you build up the gallows of your head with lies

Take the gray off the ashes
And let them burn again-
This is your foul way of love
Will anyone get it right?


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…


Cherub. Rebel. Minstrel.

Cold Beach

He communicates literally in such a steady tone
But his depth is in his words
And applying a note unto it would magnify his soul.
He is gentleness gone awry;
And a manic in silence and control;
He strolls his way quietly into screaming serenity
As a forlorn wagged stray in social fury.


Fall Autumnly

A Collaboration with Conrad Garcia
ShidareZakura_Autumn

—Gently flee and take those barren fields
With your bare and obsolete heart
Startle, wake, not the sun
Who eased on your fiery desolation
Indefatigable sweetheart,
Forever sullen romance:
Swell—spring,
Summer afternoon,
Aftershocks, relentlessly
Play my nostalgic fiddle
Like this plagued vacant winter spell
Seldom now we gently flee—


Pasalitang Enkanto

(Isinatulang mga Pahayag sa Aklat ng mga Mukha o Facebook ni Xyldrae Diane E. Jacob at Sherylene De La Cruz)

Pasalitang Enkanto

Poeticized Comments on Facebook that started from a blurry picture that triggered a heart to transmit it’s own voice to a mind and thus, a verbal spell chanted throughout, involving some.

Malabo ang larawan,
Parang ang puso ko.
*Pansamantalang Makata*
Huwag mabagabag.
Ito’y mawawala
O hindi kaya….

Saklolo!

*Napinsalang kalagayan
Na `di pangkaraniwan*

*Kataka-takang kagitlahanang
Kabig ng himig at ginaw
Mula sa pagtitingaw-ngaw
Ng namumukod na halimaw*

*Pasalitang enkanto*
Saklolo!!!!

Sino ang may kinalaman?
Sino ang may nalalaman.
Sino ang nagnanais makaalam?
Manika ang may kasagutan!

Ang may kinalaman na
Akala’y nakakaalam:

“Ako ba ang may kinalaman?
O ang may nalalaman?
Hindi ba ang halimaw ang humihila
Ng batingaw na sa ating dalawa
Ay gumiginaw sa bawat sambit
Ng mga himig na sa atin ay lumulusaw?”

Sa may nalalaman:

*Palubhang enkanto*
Saklolo……

Saklolo……

Sa nagnanais makaalam:

Bago ang iyong paglisan,
Ang katotohana’y magiging
Hamak na sabi-sabing
Di karapat-dapat masilayan…

Huwag mabagabag.

Ito ang katapusan.


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.


To Hover Above

Tips

Often, I feel like crashing into the sun when I forget
That I can just hover above the clouds…
Then I return to reality to gaze upon the beauty from where I stand….
And see all these that make the world go round…
Good and bad, through which all good can be made…
There’s no bad thing that can’t transcend to something good,
And there’s no good thing that can result to bad…
And when they say that hate had sprung from Love,
I say hate was always hate, or there was never love…

Often, I have felt, that I’ve just strayed into the moon
When I’ve forgotten that I could… hover above the stars…
Then I return to reality to gaze beyond the beauty in where I stand….
And understand why must the world go round…


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.


The Saddest Poem

bird

I wanna sing the saddest songs as if I would die
and then I wanna cry my heart out as if I’ve lost God…
I wanna run in circles within an untamed wilderness
after my tears have equalled the waves of the seas…
and find myself at the top of a snow-capped mountain
screaming my frozen lungs out and hearing only my voice
transmitting the rage of my burning heart.
Distorted and soul-starved,
I don’t ache to feel a little less alive…
Nor do I merely ache…
My madness does not represent a longing for joy
Not even a longing for death.
My loneliness is not soothed by company.
My burden blinds with light.
There is nothing more worse for me and ill
than the simple mediocrity when I do not sing when I will.


EXCERPTS FROM AN UNFINISHED ODE:

EXCERPTS FROM AN UNFINISHED ODE:

No devil could stop this
And no Man.

Pulsed Salvation took form
Beginning before
The waters of the womb;

God, the Artist,
Gentled His film

And

In the darkroom of man,
Devised new Light:

Son and Brother of All

Who had the eyes of a Hero,
One, where the Artist’s
Signature’s found.

Blessed be beholders of he
For they shall serve God unerringly,
Have virtue endowed
And themselves, sanctified
By Love for and from
His son, Jesus Christ.

—–
Happy Birthday Kuya Ec! I never imagined my life without you… Your epic of giving your Life to save someone, shall always be a reminder to us, of how fragile, and at the same time, how powerful we are, that we have to be a hero when God calls us to fulfill His glorious and loving will. “There is no better love than this. To give up one’s life for one’s friends”….


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…


Chambers of the Obsolete III

Originally uploaded and copyrighted in xyldrae.deviantart.com

So dark, the shadows in my eyes
So light, the hell within my burden,
That I may never say good night
In the calming presence of moonlight.

So vast, the barren spaces of my woes
So crowded, the only things that hold
That I may never taste more than defeat
In the cruel chambers of the obsolete.


If Darkness Is So Bad

Originally uploaded and copyrighted with credits for stock usage in xyldrae.deviantart.com and created for the “Scavenger Hunt” contest administered by the Intermediate-Manips group.

If darkness is so bad…
Why do we close our eyes when we pray…
Why as we become deeper
The further our visuals go away…
Is it not dark when we dream
And envision beyond what our eyes behold –
The sights that render us powerless
Against the worthy stories untold…

If darkness is so bad,
I dare you watch the stars in daylight
I dare you love less the sun…
I dare you keep your kisses to your sight
Don’t close your eyes when you make love
Gaze not at the twilight as it goes
Find no beauty in your favorite scenery
And imagine things without their shadows

If darkness is so bad,
What makes Light redeeming?
What heightens touch, what perfects sound
Why eyes are closed when soulfully singing?
If darkness is so bad,
I dare you, wish upon no shooting star
Pray only for what’s delighting.
Keep sane in continuous joys
Blind to the glory of overcoming.