*a black heart drowning in euphoria*

Posts tagged “Life

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.


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.


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.


Memory Of Eternity

It is a memory of Eternity
Frozen with the heart
Painted in Light and Waves
And death and life…
And that point where both intertwine…
To be one and oddly the same…

I can not discern it good or bad
All I know is how lost it deepens my mind…
How it stalks the stars for something bigger than dreams…
How it makes me forget who I am and who I want to be…
How it rescues me…
To destroy me on and on again…


Will Not

from http://xyldrae.com

Will not bury any castles
Or be dragged by pessimists who don’t know they are;
Instead, as a vigilant Christian,
Must expel demons that diminish
The effectivity of communication among people
Of course, do all these with
The help of Christ, in His Light
And for Love, who is God.

No more emasculation but otherwise
No more wasting away on dead ends
No more mediocrity in writing
No more worldly expression
No more superficial concerns
No more robotic routines. No more.
from www.xyldrae.com

Pain gives us a sense of what matters.
Never miss this light and never
Act on the emotion but act on the Light.


Back Off. Back Up. Back Out.

(Image inspired by the song “Wild Child” by Lonesome Minstrel.)

Where you so alienated with too much familiarity?
It’s too easy to choose to stay away and be safe,
Kill the flame
Live the dream you have mastered
Void yourself…

Back off.

Where you so merely overwhelmed with too much serendipity?
It’s the hardest to decide not to spare a chance,
Burst the flame
Emblazon in the perfect hell where you’ve made yourself at home…
Unbuild yourself…

Back up.

Where you so right with all you knew?
It’s too impossible to go on happily and feel clean,
Water the fire
Perfect the self-righteous freedom entrapment
Deprive yourself…

Back out.


Face Up

Conquer all your deaths,
face up.
No matter how rotten you are by the flesh,
your dignified soul will fly…
People will think of you this way-
Martyr.
But you are not a slave of your mold.
The real you is all out and untouchable.
Know that as you wither,
you grow… freed of soul-cage…
So conquer .
Live up.


We Move Along


Night thoughts like molten rock….
Effusive states;
A madman’s volcanic vent —

If night lights don’t soothe you
And moonlight hides…
Transport your thoughts to morning sights…
That need no man-made light….

Two is better than one…
We choose to be one…
But not always one with our Maker…

We move along blindly spinning
With our spirits stagnantly weeping…

We move along
Blindly spinning
With our spirits
Stagnantly weeping…

We must return!
We must return!

…To our Maker…


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.


Thousand-Yard Stare

Shed a few shallow tears
and not be tormented…
The saddest eyes are those
that have nothing even just for tears…

Move yourself towards and through heartache
and finally move on again…
The blackest heart can never speak
of love ever again…

Let the world delight upon well-being
and tell yourself you aren’t feasted on…
A soul that has learned the first of its final lessons
Is already just waiting to go home….


Some Kind of Funeral

(A collaboration with Sherylene Dela Cruz)

Dirge for the superficial will,
The sheep,
The crab,
The maggots,
And the geniuses in ghost-disguise.
A funeral for the
Abortionists
Of Art,
Of Life

Look for that insight
Embedded on the estranged heart.
Be it welcomed. Nourished. Flourished.
No digging of shallow holes
Of/For the rotten.

But explore that Black Hole
That’s existence’s already to You known!

Eternity
Was and Is

Always a part of You.