*a black heart drowning in euphoria*

Spoken Word

Where Oh Where to Take the Stars

535160_3351538261477_21626289_n

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…


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.


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.


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.


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…


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.

Actions are one of those things that we truly own.
Yet, it’s one of those things most people die to give away.
Ironic as we were all infants when we were born
Yet some of us never grew up, some even ended stray…

And we are all adults at some point
But not all of us choose to grow wisely young…
And we were all made to not last in this form
A hymn of envy that fallen angels have sung…

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.


Just Can’t

I wrote poems that give out the state of my soul…
I wrote when I’m desperate.
I wrote when I had secrets.
My poetry is my secret garden…
And my secret hell…
And my poetry is something you just don’t care about.
It’s okay. Although
When I’d rather talk to you than write a poem you wouldn’t care about…
I find myself too lifeless to write about how frustrated I am…
That to talk to you…
I just can’t…


Open Shutter

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…

Open shutter,
Choose the better light
Draw my frustrations away
Into a better sight….


A Certain Source of Better Sense

Have you ever seen or heard
Or felt or ever known
A deeper soul than one that has settled
Its confounded passions for diversities?

While favorites are fine,
How would you know that there are better things
In Life if you have shut your
Ears exclusive to one genre of Music?

I will not bother to try
To understand why you don’t…
Understand….
No, I won’t…

I am sorry that you will never feel
What I feel over melodies that ache
For suicide that one can not commit
For the music’s just too good to die on…

I am sorry that you will never know
What makes me dance a jingling jive
Or a cold and clinging ballet…
Or what notes engulf my heart in sweet contemplation…

While screaming seems like noise
One day you’ll find yourself soothed by its serenity
And remember we, who traveled the world
With our ears on the folks, so merrily…

…As you laughed
While we ignore your mockery…
And as you limited Life
While we marveled in its serendipity

Even your idols have taken such identities
As part of themselves so the whole world connects…
Your self-drawn boundaries make you
Predictable and detrimental to sense.

So I will not bother to try
To understand why you don’t…
Understand….
No, I won’t…


Life and Calamities

(In memory of all the people, dead or alive, affected by the flash floods and landslides caused by the Typhoon Sendong.)

NPPA image linked from http://ph.news.yahoo.com

A tender little doll freshly drowned in mud
In the shaking arms of her weeping father…
On Christmas season when she was aged three or four…
She was one corpse of a thousand others more…

A multitude of suddenly homeless mouths to nourish
Who aren’t sure YET, if they’d be thankful to have survived…
Still out in their heads searching for loved ones and strangers
Still praying they’re still alive…

These are a glint of the wrath of a flash flood
That had more than a city abused and wiped out.
Life turns off when calamities turn on
But the Lord has told us how we could be saved…

When thousands of people had their breaths expire
Millions come together to relieve what they’ve left behind
Millions more continue calling out…
Out of their way… into their lives…

These are the heroes of heroes
Who had to be victims that heroes need save
Life goes on when calamities go off
But the Lord is watchful on how we behave…

—-

Donations

From the Philippine Red Cross website:

SMS

Text REDAMOUNT to 2899 (Globe) or 4143 (Smart)

G-Cash

Text DONATEAMOUNT4-digit M-PINREDCROSS to 2882

You can donate the following denominations:
Globe: 5, 25, 100, 300, 500 or 1000
Smart: 10, 25, 50, 100, 300, 500 or 1000

or go to: http://www.redcross.org.ph/donate
for more info and options

For overseas Filipinos, you can donate thru the Philippine National Red Cross’ website: http://www.redcross.org.ph/donate

—-

SOME VIDEOS FOR THE 2011 SENDONG TYPHOON:


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…


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….