*a black heart drowning in euphoria*

Ranting

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.


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.



Not Haunted As I Am

I’m tracing shadows of my dead hair
On this dead sheet against a live lamp
Where my tired head floats somewhere in between.
Of course.
There’s weight in emotion
And weight in thoughts
Ich schreibe Gedichte
Maybe,
But I can write poems.
I’ve consciously disregarded the full moon
And chose remote wastelands of statistics…
I’ve had everything calculated disregarded
Per chance to look forward to something better.
Spontaneity, overwhelmed with Serendipity
Are eventually… best savored rationally.
Everybody’s haunted
But not haunted as I am…


Sleep

I don’t wanna sleep or I just can not sleep
With things in my mind and things in my heart
That I don’t wanna wake up to
Or unconsciously die with…

But they get worse without a rested soul
And beat my body all night long
So let me spare my soul with ease..
Fall asleep and wakeup with God’s kiss…


Mistaken Angels

Edited lyrics from a Rap Song dedicated to people who talk so highly of love and relationship but would trash up their “loved ones” regardlessly – a combination of parasites and maggots.

Shut yourself up.
Go shoot yourself up.
I’m taking no more…

I’m in the cold
I crash and burn
And I’ve been told
That I can’t turn
In this fast lane
With this cursed brain
So much insane!

I’m crashing,
Solo!
In the background losing halo!
Hating on you pretenders!
Now I’m spitting the truth coz I know –

You were bitching when I was dying
You were mocking when I was grieving
Your offenses are knives all over
They’re stabbing me forever…
Too bad I’ll always remember…

The sun melts
When it touches my tears…
The ocean rages
When it stinks of our fears…
Thunderclouds cheer
The devils up with its roars…
You mistake them for angels
Then you grieve all the more…

That does not sound right
But you make it sound right…

Help me now
Or watch me bow
As you slay me now
I’m praying now
Lord please forgive me…
I never did recover
And I fear this really would never be over!
I’m hating.
I’m shaking.
Devils are lurking
In my black heart
And I can’t prevent
This soul abused,
Accused, confused,
Refused, reduced and aching!
Your existence is so depressing!
My hate is overwhelming!
Anything true eludes me
Smiles and tears alike consume me!
I yearn to stop existing!
Give me that non-existence!
Love tires me just the same…
You can see it in my face –
I’m so tired of this sacrilegious game!

The sun melts
When it touches my tears…
The ocean rages
When it stinks of our fears…
Thunderclouds cheer
The devils up with its roars…
You mistake them for angels
Then you grieve all the more…

That does not sound right
But you make it sound right…


Looking Up By Looking Down

Who says you’ll never see the sky
if you’re looking down?
Haven’t you heard?
God is everywhere and He
makes all things work for the good
of those who love Him.


The only way you could have convinced yourself that I’m a pessimist is by being one yourself.


The only freedom you’ll ever need
Is freedom from yourself.


The sweetest thing a person can do to you
is to do the sweetest thing to you and then do you wrong. Right?
Wrong.


… and when all you claim to need to live
is to have my world revolve around you,
/
live for you,
I find it very unnecessary to die for you.


You don’t really have to give me
the whole damn world when I’ve
spent my entire life in struggle
so now I am apart from it.


And of course, you will never
understand if you don’t listen first.


How can a person respond to a person who’s
asking for something you’ve already given,
and given in its best form?


Some actions would appear and come to you
like an assault of flying daggers,
but if your heart can only see the intentions behind them…
you’d know you were never the target.


If you so believe in choice,
why do you call yourself
a slave of circumstance?


Life is not like a box of chocolates these days.
People seem to always know what they’re gonna get.
And people seem to want to always know what they’re gonna get.
Where are all the people who actually want to live???


You keep on looking at me like some sort of mirror.
Is that why you’re breaking me?


You keep on looking at her like some sort of mirror.
Is that why you keep trying to break her?


You keep on looking at him like some sort of mirror.
Is that why you love him?


Do you know how the uneducated take opinionated news?
Of course you do!
It clearly shows in your opinions.


Okay…. If you want me to be
“Marcia f****** Braidy”
all you have to do is carry on with your fantasy
whilst I live my life in the real world. Kindly excuse me.


How typical our response to anger is….
Aren’t you all bored with that?


Taking responsibility
and being responsible are
two different actions.
It’s nice to have them come together…


What if? What if? What if?
Are you a fool to obsess with making me think like you?
No thanks, but I am truly grateful for
what is, what is, what is,
what was, what was, what was,
and what will, what will, what will.
And for someone who doesn’t bother to know the difference, just
dismiss yourself on your own accord,
then I’ll be glad to finally talk.


You make it sound right.
Take a hint!
Good luck!


He is a hero because he died
saving someone else’s life.
He’s human and divine because he had
the heart to make that choice.


Everyone is a victim in any story.
We just miss the fact that the antagonist
is not among us and
that the obvious solution and mission is
co-existence
which can only be achieved through love.


If it’s not pride,
why does it overlook everything it tramples on?


“How do you kill a thing that has already died?”
the “Lonesome Minstrel” says.
I say:
Give it life then kill it again.


Love… love… love….
why are people so obsessed with what it’s not?


Come to think of it….
let me just end this by telling you,
I love you.

(This is originally posted as prose in Valkyrja*Soul but I’ve decided to post it here and make it appear as spoken word, as it actually is a compilation of such. The attachment is also published in flickr.com/valkyrjaxoul.


True Joys (Remake from an Actual Conversation)

(This is a remake of excerpts from an actual conversation written hereafter.)

I want relaxing joys…
Joys that aren’t achieved over tremendous pressure.
I want joys that come in peace,
in kindness freely given,
in love…
in real love…
or in honest hate overcame…

I want joy that does not demand,
a price or a sacrifice…
Such as the joy transcending from an existence…
For otherwise, I am bountiful.

I want so fondly, this plain emotion
gracefully finding its way
through our converted jungles and savory hollows…
riding nothing but time…

I want relaxing joys…
That would transpire for a second
to affect your whole life…
with love…
with real love…
until you can hate no more…

(Excerpts from an actual Conversation:)

I want relaxing joys…
Joys that aren’t achieved over tremendous pressure.
I want those that come in peace,
in kindness freely given,
in love….
I want joy that does not demand a price or sacrifice…
I want that plain emotion from time to time….


Flourish or Drown

I am not heartsick.
I am not broken-hearted.
I am shattered.
It is my being that’s broken
When my heart was made whole…


Mortal Convenience

(A collaboration with Rona Fe Almazan)

Noble, as you bestow yourself to me,
Conniving with freedom and so with secrecy.
But there is nothing epic in the plot you reckon
To weave me tangled in the sultry burrows of your being

I’d leave my sentiments, dry up these dreadful illusions
And burn my amusement with bitterness or deceptions
For it all boils down to preferences fit for moral, no, mortal, convenience
All far from the magnitude of scarcely explored greatness.


Schizophrenic Conference on Masochism

Pray be decrypted by no asylum mortal
Not everyone likes stars and twinkling objects savored by heavens
There are those alienated by reverie
And there are those who associate
Alienation with destruction –
Only their own.

Danced in the surfaces of the Sun.
It did not suffice.
Sickled folly and Cronian disguise;
Cold rock and hard ice;
All you wanted was Saturn’s rings
To have a path to render shadows for your wings
Or to make you stand out a little more
So you wrong yourself in circles; come and go.

Don’t go…

You’ve falsely been Venus in someone’s eyes and
Jaundiced one, yours opened sore.
What’s not to like when all suffering makes you strive
Strive to be alive?

Oh why transform into the cold-cloaked Pluto?
You’re more hollow than that.
Your message never even reached bankrupted Mercury
Who lost his celestial bindings when you changed the context.
Yes, you can bring a demi-god down.
Bring them all down.
There must be another way to make dear Mercury care
And not let your solitude cast his end.
Yes, you can raise up the fallen.
Feather the fallen.

Carry yourself and your hammered wings.

You feel Jovian yet you’re shrunk.
You felt Jovian and have sunk.
Didn’t you know that Jupiter’s just a button on his shirt?
Which he only touches to be bare and not?
So go swallow your heart,
Ego can sometimes be good to revive.
At least retrieve your livid mind from dead Mars.
And resign your threads on the oceans of Neptune.
You were allowed your own seas to brave and dread.
You were deprived your own seas but not allowed any other.
Go reside in newly-furnished nebula then,
Or garnish it and eat it like you’ve been starving for ethereal home.
Ignore his coming like some husband to our Mother Earth.
Immunize the consciousness to such plague.

You do have color, Earth.
Pastel skies surround you on an angels’ spree.
If only this fellow can watch it from your grounds…
Poor creature’s still left in outer space…

Gravity is not for me.

Don’t say that! Shut up!
Forget the milky way!
Unbecome the black hole…
Believe that your beloved sunshine’s infernal.
It’s really not so hard…
It’s really not too hard!

Damn wraith nametagged Gloom!
Pollux’s alpha twin crowned itself a constellation on its own
With big dreams to shatter the Great Bear with
While the little humble one remains more massive than the sun.
Time… Prelude.
Time. Time. Time!
Some myth for a scarce stallion mourns
An arrow that may never set off and soar…
And then there was
Sweet November.

Mercy. That’s the planet sent to exile
In a universe gone awry named…

What’s your name again?

Exist first to surrender.


“Lovely Death” Is His Name

His melancholic spontaneity won’t release me.
There’s more of gloom coming,
I am overwhelmed but this smile hurts my face.
Now he sings like a leprechaun
Brewing MADNESS in his pot of false hope.
Oh why am I here

peeping and weeping

grieving for his real name

While he dances in a humid hell of deceits
It is his home…..

AHA!

He sings it like a DIRGE –

“LOVELY DEATH”

…is his name!


Also published in xyldrae.deviantart.com


Transition of Consciousness

My greatest discomfort is the transition of consciousness;
Herein, my thoughts must ceasefire,
or begin to ravage me again…

As by my sinking eyelids I am forced to sleep,
Why must my busy heart retire along with them?

And as society requires me so,
I wake up with too much undone,
And not enough to feel alive.
It hurts my soul.

My greatest pain is this repeating ache…
…to feel alive or be unconsciously dead.
My greatest death is the transition of consciousness,
My graveyard is my bed.


This post is also published in xyldrae.deviantart.com


Where Mercy Is

I could paint this dullness now
I could paint this horror
This meaninglessness gets deadly by the hour
I wish I do not have to face tomorrow

Strangers’ voices are louder than yours
Their energetic small talks elaborate your silence
And I am not happy about the depth you do not share
And I can not escape to solace

—-
Also published in xyldrae.deviantart.com