Defeat

The mentality

of a broken heart cannot

come home for they are the ones

who are defeated.

Pierced

A pierced heart cannot

ever mend because there are

no justifications to

a most broken soul.

To Be Prepared

From what I’ve learned in college life, is that you have to know the professor’s expectations and follow the rules and the syllabus. You cannot expect professors to be mind readers and you should never address a doctor as Mr. or Mrs. or Ms. It is called a Doctorates degree for a reason.

You should prepare and expect to know what you’ve learned about even as a grad student.

But when preparing, know what you are passionate about writing about whether it is an 86 page creative or traditional thesis.

The Language of Poetry

Who knows the meaning of the stars for he makes my knees weak and translates light into darkness with his tender moans and his silent but patient sighs with his tender body steadily pulsing into mine?

Who knew a great mind could come this way; my way around?

Who knows what arithmetic and math is when all you know is the simple arithmetic of poetry and how to plug in the best words for the equation of math to be solved is through the mind, body and soul but indefinitely through the mouth?

And in fact what integers would equal to a zero but a mere zero?

And what if arithmetic and math if not for the commune of the stars and for the course of the earth?

I tell you know it begins with an ending of opposites and their oppositions.

For I am yours and you are mine.

I know you for I know the study of the stars and that constant, contemporary darknesses of those types of forevers can never last.

Dark Pleasures

These dark pleasures have dark ends.

The pleasure of touching you are twice as delightful, but mind you,

Even the light for one such as dark with dark thoughts and a dark soul with a dark heart can also have its shadows.

For in the light there is one sun to lead tour way through dark planets and dark space.

So the light can be just as delicious and as delightful and as delicate;

For the darkness consumes it;

But out of the darkness, the light submerges itself from the formation of the dark giving birth to stars.

And pays a price….

To pay its piper.

He is the darkness, but you translate darkness into your light.

Life As An Art

There are certainly things that cross my mind about how life was being lived. If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that life was rough. It wasn’t just about taking names and kicking ass, it was about the people who suffered among you from all kinds of things. It was about who’s life was going to be on the line next without daddy’s combat boots and your guns. Wasn’t about who could outrun you in a fast fight cause you had to learn to keep your head up whether you were you were up or down. You can live day and night without them trying to catch you. Cause in the end, you’re a waste, you’re not a thug or a gangster or in the army anymore. You’ve got no one to fight for; no hoodlum to carry for your causes coz your boy’s down. But you should never have to worry because you haven’t been through this. Life is beautiful and you don’t have a clue. Life is art, and art in itself is everything you’re doing. You strive for enlightenment you strive for the greater good and you strive for reformation. You should strive to come home; to your pride and your dignity as KING.

The Future

As a child, you depend upon your parents to make sacrifices.

As a pre-teen you look upon other adults to make the right decisions.

As an adult you look upon yourself because at the end of the day that is all you have.

Know that whatever choice you make is the decision you must follow through with.

Heartbreaker

There was once a girl with a paper castle filled with paper stars.

There was once a boy in a castle who often wished on stars.

She trusted many, was a good queen and although she did not have much, she unlike many other people had a very naive heart.

He trusted no ne and was a very good king. Although he had much; he unlike many othr people was a fierce and constant lover.

She learned that men could break down her paper castle and have it crumpled to the ground, ripped apart and eventually burned.

He learned that women fell at his heels and mercilessly he would send them away and look for the right one.

She soon learned that paper stars were only wishes made up of paper.

He soon learned to look where hearts had no boundaries.

So instead she wished on real stars and found the love of her life written in-between them.

So instead,he saw scattered paper stars with wishes in them and filled in the gaps and found what was once a girl with a paper castle filled with paper stars.

She was now a dragon-lady who lived her life off of the love of cold hearted men and ripped them apart for a change.

He was now a constant lover trying to woo her.

Now the one she had loved was far away, but what could she do but to tell him by leaving him without saying goodbye that she had to leave withut mercy or beg of pardon.

Now the one he had loved was mercilessly abandoned and left without a love-life of his own and a wounded, casual, but searching heart.

Her soul was left empty; unfulfilled and left with gaps of broken mens\\\’ hearts.

His soul boiled with hot watery and salty tears and he felt like he could never love again.

She had grown up to be very beautiful and mysteriously promiscuous and deviant.

He had grown up to be very tired of trying to find her heart.

Time went on by too fast for the girl and she never wanted to feel the pain of men ever again.

Time went on by and he never saw her; ever.

For you see what she had never anticipated was that once she grew up there was a maze in which she had a key to her garden-protected heart with walls that were unexpectedly too high.

And he; half-heartedly fell forgotten at the end of the story serching at the ends of the chasms of the abyss; the dark, voidless world.

At this he fell sick and died.

Soon she found that what she could find of him when she saw the stars and she finally knew what it meant to break hearts and trod on the spirits of willing men; and so she lingered on into the chaotic abyss.

There, she found the King half crazy and half dead.

He then told her,

There was once a girl with a paper castle filled with paper stars.

She trusted many, was a good queen and although she did not have much, she unlike many other people had a very naive heart.

She learned that men could break down her paper castle and have it crumpled to the ground, ripped apart and eventually burned.

And so they had lived happily ever after as he had died holding his wife as the girl with the paper castle had fallen sick and the king who withheld the stars died right after.

The two souls had melded into one finally amonst the stars in the dark for the king who had once shown her that stars were very real and that the universe fights for people to be together even in spirit.

 

 

 

For You

Into the depths of the deep, watery abyss I had swam and in its depth I saw a light.

It had to; it was you. It must have been you.

Everyday whilst my heart stood pounding among the ferocious beasts that kept me from you….

I surrendered my heart into the light;

that which was laid unheard of;

I had transformed darkness into light.

You were my sweet surrender; my happiness.

My agile ability to think for you are my everything.

My happiness alone.

How could there ever be a way not to want you?

You in my presence?

My light in desperation…..

Your heart my love reacts to my soul, and in the kindling fires, my heart is still beating.

For you….

My winter lover in the Spring…..

Nostalgia

Remember that feeling of nostalgia?

Well here it comes again the moment you said you’ll never fall in love again….

Little did we know that these quiet nights of subtle forevers would never last long.

The echoes of your silent sighs resonate within my heart in this lonely room in your dark and damaged world.

I refrain my song until your subtle sentiments become my own. A kiss for a kiss and a subtle sigh for a subtle sigh.

Staying the night with you and thinking of what we could be.

Looking at the moon and its rings.

Remember that feeling of nostalgia?

Because I’ll be remembering you….

Forever.

In The Silence of The Night

In the silence of the night,

The darkness looms over me and i am one with you.

I’ve dreamt of you at such hours and times of the night. When nights were like these.

And I’ve loved you more than I ever have.

Because I know you better than that.

You’re a gentle soul with a heart of untainted gold.

I love you as all terribly terrible things in the night love one another.

You are my monster.

You are my thief.

You’ve wrecked my comfort zone and stolen my heart.

As the full moon follows me in. The darkness of the sky,

Your light shines throughout and I am and always will love you.

Your wide dark, sad eyes.

Your coffee-cream skin.

And a gentle soul.

You are my lion and my lamb.

And I know you love me….

In the silence of the night.

From America

Home is where you used

to be with us. Home is where

your heart used to roam freely.

Come home to us safe.

Love From Hokkaido : A Veteran’s Poem

I will be coming home

Soon to you and to family

My love is sent through the wind.

Blowing through your hair.

The Daughter of Rå

The Gods recite their poetry so subtly and it is the web of time and the way of life.

One God came down and fell in love with a beautiful hypocrite whose lies were demented as to lure him to bed.

“A nymph.” He sighed as he fell to bed with her.

She loved him in a way that all terrible things are to be loved. But could he not save her from the darkness?

As her dress fluttered in the night, his madness was his bliss as he’d drink his wine. Subtleties were his weaknesses as she disappeared into the darkness.

Her wings were caught by the sun and the rays were once again dismissed until he saw a different her.

The God, racing through time of his memory of the ungodly nymph.

Her promises had turned to lies only for him to know that the sun’s rays spoke to him.

His misery as his power above his navel diminished between drinks of wine which was his madness and in madness he found bliss.

But would he ever save her? Humanity started to show how very human a God can be for you see, there comes a time for you see in every man’s life where madness in the arithmetic of life revels in bliss and bliss only.

We shall see….

“Listen to me my darling. Listen to the sun and we will never be apart.” She sang through the rays of the sun.

And at last he understood. She would love him forever.

Emotions in Math

You, you are my Magick at night,

And also my inspiration to write for my love for you is deeper than the Nile; farther than the trench.

I think of you night and day and tomorrow I will love you forever and always like I always have been.

You are my favorite thing to think about.

The things I like about you are your subtle comments; your quick witted attitudes of fire behaving as warmth.

You are water on fire while I am here alone trying to make sense of the world and its weight.

You are my favorite person dear thing.

What philosophy of math; what the written language of arithmetic cannot solve.

You are out of proportion my dear. It means you are hard to understand.

And I wanna know what you think about.

I want to solve the arithmetic; the algebra of your mind.

What dear I pray?

What philosophy do you follow?

Innocent Love

The wind blows softly tonite and my canvas is the darkness of the thickness; this thick color of the sky.

I want you as a canvas.

A canvas I can put my kisses on.

The circles around the moon and the clouds at night; a filmy grey tells me that you cannot seem to be without love.

My dear; you are my lamb.

You could never bring yourself to hurt nature in itself.

You are the gentle breeze and the warmth of the sun on a Summer’s day.

But it is only Spring darling and you although we met are imaginary as all romanticized thoughts should be like.

What are we really?

Are we defined by what it is we see?

Because I see you.

And in you, I see love.

Innocent love.

Apart

The way he talks;

I wanna get into his mind and he is so outgoing when he talks that it just blows me up with inspirational words that I cannot describe how I feel. Although I do have a warm spot for him, I want him to know that sexual context does not mean that I wouldn’t like to see his wide eyes glow with wonder,

His voice that stood for tranquility is the same as the way water makes you float. The same way as air makes me fly. For you are the wind beneath my wings.

The earth I tread on for the dawn to. The very core of the blood that pumps in my veins throughout. It is my dear, my heart.

I wouldn’t want nothing less than to be ever so close….

Yet we are very close yet so far inasmuch apart.

Our feelings as you should know come in seconds and every moment; every second of each season counts.

And my feelings are just but a trial…

Inasmuch, no; I do not want your body for I cannot lust to taint beauty for the reality is, we can only be friends and that is more to me than love.

Angel, do love….

Me….

I Promise

I keep looking at the moon.

It is far too brightly lit at this night but as the clock ticks till, I think of you the most and how much brighter you shine.

You make my world shine brighter than most.

And I appreciate you being there for me to love your presence all over again.

I assume that it is just like old times only better.

And sometimes these sweet delights have these terrible endings.

And what better than to find love in the city?

Whereas on this island, lovers fall in love everywhere?

And although we cannot fix the world or the way time works; I know that I will see you again someday soon.

I promise….

Always

Don’t tell me if you’re in love with her because I’d already known.

And I will love you like I always have.

And O, just to hear from you; the sound of your voice; and the beating of your heart.

I start to think of you and what you would think about.

About when you’re looking at the clock above your bed, do they really remind you of the rings around the moon?

Or is it me that you think of up until now?

I think of you and as the music fades away, you’re the one thing in my mind on subtle days when I can see you again.

And when it’s nighttime, I am awake hoping that your nightmares are gone.

Know that when they are, I will be there. Smiling down upon your face when all is said and done. I will be the one to kiss you in the mornings and when the subtle sunlight hits your face.

And I will love you like I always have.

Lover Of Mine

The smell of plumerias in the pacific on this tiny island is a wonderful thing to experience.

I think of the fragrant smell of different flowers and I think of you; my lover.

The way you smell of cacao beans and coffee.

The way your light, chocolate skin rubs against mine.

I love you the way all things are to be loved.

I keep you in my heart all the time.

I pray because of you.

You are the only thing I pray for if need be.

You are the crisp, cold air at night that I love to breathe in.

You are the only one person I love.

When there is no one else lover, I think of you.

Love me, kiss me kill me….

And love me harder.

Put your sword in its sheath..

Put sugar on me.

And I’ll tell you how much I love it when you pull my hair and stroke me gently as if you knew what you were doing.

Moan for me lover.

Take me because I know you are the only one, and the only one I’d come home to.

I run to you….

Only.

You Are My Magick

There is a dark cloud overhead and the darkness of the night is fading in upon your moonlight as it becomes you.

Sometimes I just look at the night and then I think of you.

Your love is like sunlight and the sun is so high in the sky as daffodils sway in the nighttime darkness.

And then I think of you and what I tend to see is brown skin and dark eyes with jet black hair.

And suddenly that dark cloud disappears when I’m with you.

And every night that I am outside, I think of how magickal you are when words of some philosophical power overwhelm me.

I am then overcome with the gladness that’s you’re still alive and safe.

Everyday I think about you and I hide from my own heart for I dare not speak of love to you for it is something I dare not ever confess.

Not even tarot decks and crystal balls can define the meaning of your grace.

The future of our fated love;

The marriage of the wild youth.

The chasm by which Lucifer fell for a woman.

The abyss of truths untold and of darkness’ veiled life.

The way you my love, fuck my warm cunt.

The Wild Youth

We are young tonite and we are the wild youth.

Tell me you’ll want me forever and that then and there; forevermore you will be the one for me forever.

Tell me this isn’t a temporary forever….

For those moments do not last long.

With the cool air and the moon up, tell me you will stay in love with me forever.

And that you will love me always.

Tell me this is not a phase I am going through.

Tell me you love me.

In seconds.

For forever is not meant for the wild.

Tell me you are wild….

For me.

Nuts

I may be nasty and at times overtly sexual;

But this doesn’t mean that I can’t love you like I do.

Because I think about you day and night.

Kissing your fingers while you kiss my closed eyes.

You looking at me and sometimes somewhere in-between, me looking at you.

I may do things that do not apply to today, but that doesn’t mean I am not there for you.

To make ends meet, you,

Drive my mind and my body;

Nuts….

“Television: A Memoir Of A Box”

Dear Diary,
The lights blare on in the asylum and here I am in the coldness of my room. I have been in here for days and it is like a box; the nurse introduces me to a fine dinner. A cold ham and cheese sandwich with cold lettuce and cold mayonnaise. Every day we go to watch tv after therapy specials. The ones where we write about our day and about our productivity during that day. However panic-stricken you must be, do not let it spoil your day though. I am enslaved in this asylum to this abysmal daily routine where so much as one toe out of line and you get the dark padded room that smells of something between lime-away and musty old bed sheets. This, was what watching television was like. Only it was away from society except your own peers. A way away from the world.

Dear Diary,
Down here in this old Russian asylum, I watch the news. But who would like to watch the news when there are so many deaths out there? The History Channel of Russia had things like Chernobyl blowing up and things about the cold war and how books were being burnt to keep warm from the cold. There was nothing more depressing than real tv than the tv shows that showed the bourgeoisie of Russia’s rich and famous. It was depressing because these shows showed content faces; happy faces like the ones that were painted on smiling porcelain dolls. Then, you had to watch the English queen give a speech. Well what the fuck did I know about the queen except that she was a content, poised and grand figure compared to this rubbish in an asylum smock watching tv while she was watching the cameras that enslaved her image to the tv and captured the view enslaving the trees and her mansion behind it?

Dear Diary,
Watching tv made me feel less and less alive. I was always jealous of the happy people in these black and white sitcoms that my thoughts would turn to violence, to anguish, and then to a matter of escape. But then as I composed my sanity, why hurt these people who did not know me? I was dead to them rest in peace; god save my soul. Good riddance they would tell me as happy faces entered the black and white screen that was mahogany on the outside with black knobs changing the channels at every small twist. What could I do but just sit there cross legged and watch as someone screeched down the hall? I envied those faces. Why? Why? Why? I ask myself why I could not have been happy like them? Amidst the screams I would watch reality sitcoms from overseas, and it was not until I began to wonder at the commodity of myself being in this asylum that they are happier and more better off than me. One is married and is a happy housewife named Lucille Ball with a wonderful husband named Ricky. He probably gets home to his wonderful wife Lucy in a grand Chevy. With how happy they are, I could just scream at them.

Dear Diary,
It has been more than five months since my last check-in. I still watch Lucille Ball with Ricky and their wonderful laughter. I wonder how can anyone instill into peoples’ minds that life is like that?! My brain begins to absorb Ricky and Lucy, Ricky and Lucy. Everything done in a day of sitcom watching and noticing that life is harder than what we perceive in television. I hated tv for this reason. None of it seemed real. No matter how hard I wanted it to be real, I could not adjust the knobs anymore because I was disgusted with how fake tv actually was. Was it to better the hopes of other people? In the asylum, I’ve learned that not all or everything was about Lucy’s day. Out of the asylum, it got harder compared to outside life in the real world. Try me, a thirty-five-year-old woman with a patch quilt dress and a shawl on my head to keep warm tied right above my neck with old leather shoes working at a factory. You know when you have hit rock bottom, and sometimes because of the tv, you get tired of life.

Dear Diary,
I have heard that the tv was a part of progress. If that was true, then tv had sucked from the beginning. The way Ricky carried his wife and the way Lucy smiled. My only progression was cleaning clothes and doing factory work for people who liked to wear clothes and keep warm. I am a Goddamned patchwork quilt woman. What makes me angry is that in order to sustain myself, women like me could not afford to be Lucille Ball and the men here; well, some could not afford to be the richest man with a wonderful wife and a beautiful house like Ricky and I was suddenly tearing up and in mental anguish because the tv was a lie. Some of the news was not even real. All of tv was actually a lie except for things that were depressing. The tv showed things that were unable to obtain and things that were impeccably ridiculed.

Dear Diary,
Today is my birthday. I would never wish for another tv set to break by my own hands again.

As You Drown In Me

Good looks and a good body aren’t everything.

It wasn’t enough to make you stay….

I had a good heart once,

But now I am heartbroken because I know that deep down inside you left me; an empty casket with a dead heart…

I drown into you and you make me feel like the greatest thing in the entire world, as I kiss you and you begin to kiss my eyes to sleep.

You make me feel like I’m the only one inside the room and you make the sun shine for all to see.

You guide my way into the moonlit ocean beneath the sea.

Maybe this is what it means to be a mermaid.

Forever crying pearls as I drown in you for I am the ocean and you drown in me.