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.
“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.
good intentions without understanding result to worse things.
it’s better to not understand things 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…
– A Liberation they know nothing of.
Pink and Green
Images of woe
Images of Joy
-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…
he gets swallowed up in a time machine…
and knows just about too many things…
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.
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…
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.
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.
I wanted to capture running water
Shaping rocks yonder the spotlight sunset
But His hands keep me from my lover Ocean
With untimely tides and decent injuries…
There’s a barren sense
Within the four corners where I lay
Outside, the stars glitter smiles for my solitary stay
While the moon won’t even show its face…
Just like the night skies
I was unwhole to the naked and non-parallax eye….
My ears can only hear my Lover’s heartbeat
Wash the shores and securities away…
Choose the better light
Draw my frustrations away
Into a better sight….
I’ve grown tired of the faceless
Ghosts of assumptions and masked rejections
I’ve grown tired of the love of the needy
All there to amplify their worthless disregard
The people who love you are the people who are there
Through thick and thin, for better or for worse…