A collection of my poems.

Enjoy! ^_^

FREQUENCY

Stolen devices

Mount your secret hiding place

Conniving in a deathly manner

Spare witness to your carousal

Feast your eyes upon these

Restless whispers on walls

Painted in blood red

Unwind this ludicrous impression

Humble residues of your

Burning violence

Take you on and on again

To your inferno of renaissance

Speak now, spare this

Frequency of delirium

Kill this rhythm whirling

Toiling to your feeble ears

To tease the mind and breathe

FRANKENSTEIN

I fear the skies

That create

From the coarseness of your voice

From the grave

That relates

From the beating of your veins

That I would keep your heart

So still

So real

So miserable to breathe

To supply your air

That comes not from the world

The beast

That beckons you away

Stay

To play yet so far you’ve come

That I must rely

To the power of my mind

My thoughts

My fancies of the spirit

And the mist

That creates

That mutates the contours of

My Frankenstein

That I would take my life

And my time

Just to keep your heart

So still

So real

So vain that none would understand

The pain

That strikes the soul

That churns the blood

That stabs the beating heart

Just to throb

Just to breathe

To live

FLAMES

Living through winter

Living to survive this

Coldness that redemption

May come in consummation

Of a crepuscular scene

I witness specters

May consume in a moment

Of substance and despair

My precious sight

Dissolved in flames

And to think

That I may be

A little too late

A little too far

A little too intoxicated

To reclaim it

To resurrect its arabesque depravity

Let me be over

Let me be over this

Madness that surfaced

In the darkness I crawled in

Aversion I slept in

Deep slumber, chairs

They move as I slept

Faceless poltergeists lingering

Faces forming and deforming

On the walls to stretch out

Let plunge in boisterous laughter

I see death, sense death.

A LETTER

I am a corrupted soul

No passion

For things that stood

So quickly bent and rotten

Long forgotten

They could only break so fast

I am eternity in chains

Perceived so quickly

And desiccated

So confound for years

I could only comprehend enough

And still they forsake me

All I ask is one consolation

Yet you can turn your back on me

Well you can take me

Where you are, still

I am dead from my

Perfect world that promotes insanity

Here I stand

I could uplift myself

Just long enough to bear

Existence seemed perpetuated

Yet all I ask is one small thing

One redemption from despair

LUCIENNE

She sleeps like beauty sleeps

With angels perched on sleek shoulders

A glistening sparkle of music

Crystal like the snowflakes that touched

Her rosy cheeks flushed pale and red

The music perpetuated and flowing

Endlessly or she awakens

When the music has stopped

From kindling tinker of tunes to silence

Dissolved I the midst of dissolution

She wakes in a hungered pace

Melodic eyes cracked and loathing

Face unseen, obscured and silenced

The humming of another winter

The dissolving of another parched soul

The sprouting of thorns in our path

And we must never turn back

But face the thorns as they incise flesh

And to our back the lady who sleeps

Like beauty sleeps

Whose bleached flesh now enshrouded

To the deepest of swart and soot

Face dark as night and red as blood

Thou shall not, thou should not

Wait for her, heed for her

W A S P

Consecrated, smothered soul

I follow deep within you your mocking debris

Follow with your stream so you could ask me

Something, undecided, possibly

A close kill on your sanctified meat

That you gathered on your basin

Your side was an awful rot

But I felt pleased you loved it still

I saw a mirror that made me rip my face

And my fragrant rose with a scalpel

And love devoured me when I saw its bud

And harrowingly, dumbfounded, it won’t let me be

Those fingers swelled on petty cravings

A seamless match to your ravenous heart

The beating clasps your neck like claws in a syringe

Strange, it makes you a clammy-eyed mannequin

Your haphazard, unsystematic utterances

You speak them like contemplated approaches

And forced tears like streams from a waterhole

Repeatedly like blows from a hammer

Do not lay a hand on me, for I will crumble to pieces. Do not smother me with names or I will defy your words. I am infinite as the halos of a spiral. I linger on for man is created without boundaries. Let mortality take me, yet let it not thwart me, for existence is as sweet as how much you can swallow, or how much you feet can carry you

Artists are still unavoidably separated by commas, by distinctions. Though those who generalize them would believe they are familiar of the human psyche, they will still find themselves perplexed on how the diverse works. The artistic is still a haven of thoughts in clockwork, segregated in levels from the basic to the most extreme, or the familiar to the most confusing.

I still cannot relate how much this works, yet I find the skilled different to the challenged, the technical to the defiant, and the tranquil to the unruly. The expressions of the thought have gained their extremities on the corruption of their minds. Those who remain quiet will have their hands scorched by their own madness and deprivations. Those who are driven by their logic would rather be ensnared by their own rules of survival. And what of these things, when you believe you have achieved artistry to a level of mastery when only you are only a puppet of your own profession, when you only a specimen to a perpetual cycle that runs in the media. I am meek; I am a broken thought and an array of faults. But I pity you, you call yourself skilled.

But then what runs through these veins, you who question the identity of the human intellect, you who believe in distinction, you who walk in a particular scene and perceive the hurl in space and the falter of the trees and heed the language of the gods, you who speak and heed the clog in the typical thoughts, you who do not long but grasp.

You weep, but you weep no longer for you foresee more than those who weep around you. You writhe; you blend deep in your own creations like blood in a swarm of colors. Those who perceive do not appreciate you yet you perplex those who wish to be your audience. I burn, yet I will wish for nothing but the wounds you bear.

We are immoral. We are misunderstood. We are grasped and bound by solitude because it speaks our language. We weave thoughts and question each other’s convictions because we believe these would make us wiser. We pierce and cut ourselves because we believe this is the way the hot blood rushes through our veins.

Now I understand why I smile, though I am buried six feet from the ground…

We went to Trinoma this previous Sunday, while we just finished the ten paces entry. We ate first at that italian whachamacallit restaurant (i forgot the name) and had that dish called "a taste of italy" and two slices of pizza (all shared). We had a refillable glass of iced tea but it tastes funny so we filled the glass with juice instead. 

 



And I took Bunny's picture and he sorta reminds me of Seiji of Paradise Kiss. XD


Thought we'd start canvassing for shoes. We saw these cool high cut skete shoes at ROGUE and started trying them out except they're a rare kind. I mean a pair for each size. And i wanted the brown one so badly. T_T



Anyway, I'm starting to hate this tuesday, cuz i just got dead worried of Bunny trying to apply as a graphic artist when suddenly the thunder just got a tad louder.... and louder... and suddenly a heavy shower just started pouring down at 8 pm and he still hasn't texted. Thank God i got a message from him at about 9pm saying the interview had just finished when i already started banging my head against the table. DX

Darn, i hate jumping to conclusions. T_T

Today i had two handouts, one an easy closeup of George and another i have to animate two characters (NOOOOOOO!!!!). It was fortunate of me just to have the idea of going to work instead of waiting for a text message from the PA. But now i'll be a little preoccupied with work instead of drawing on my desk.

I just dressed up today. Damn my camera with it's blank screen saying "Change the battery pack". (DX) I just ran out when i'm trying to make a good photo. I wore a black hooded dress and striped socks and people think the overall's cute! (yay!) Ely begins to take shots of me and she just begins to make blurry pictures and all, and the last one's got a red eye effect.

And now i accidentally hit the CPU which made the PC produce an eerie whirring sound and when i try to fix it, it just won't reboot so maybe this time i'm just lucky for leaving the CPU's slide open and maybe it would just refuse to work again when i shut it down. And i just had a very good deviation waiting to be posted. (T_T)

So maybe this will be my last post and I'll be unable to pot again for a very long time. And i think i have to deal with Jepoy's tantrums because his PC isn't working. T_T

Reposting this one to my stock account:



It's an old Geisha photo of me courtesy of a friend. He's a very good photographer. XD