Category Archives: Valentines Poetry

Dies Irae

“And in the end, the love you take

Is equal to the love you make.”

Quite frankly, I’m a bit jealous of people who have the casual nerve to fall in and out of love all the time—as if it was simply as bothersome as changing the frayed shoelaces on their trainers on their wornout trainers, or replacing old guitar strings because their sound has long gone dead from overuse. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course, but just;

How ever do they manage it?

I also desperately vie for that graceless, apathetic minuet—for your jaded body to queue into those monotonous cycles of halfhearted flirtations and shamefaced unspeakable nights, for your eyes to linger and your skin to prickle whenever some form of a chance draws near, to have your mind so far detached from your own overbearing sentimentality that when you crave, you simply act upon it. No love letters. No second thoughts. You don’t even have to know their name. Back into a I-V ostinato, humdrum and most times repetitive, but callously familiar all the same.

Meanwhile, I could barely make sense of all these dissonant polychords before another stray minor third or suspended ninth is forcefully thrown into the chaos, stacking up with clashing sharps and muddled tritones and making a colossal mess—and all of this coming from a singular source, no less? No consideration for modes or solfeggio? The absolute heartless anarchy.

Why must I be cursed to be a cynical romantic? A rational poet? A corrupted lullaby? I have discovered where my affections fully lay and have viciously fought tooth and nail for it; but only within myself, for myself, against myself. They need not know. They need not care. They need not suffer the awful way I have, only for nothing to come into fruition at the bittersour end, mainly because my terrified demons have their lacerating claws wrapped around every struggling limb, holding me back, screaming don’t you dare!

Aha, but what if? I hear another resolute little voice at the very back of my head interject, their rather coy tone heavily slurred with infatuated chemicals and heaven knows what else kind of drugged illogicalities. Mayn’t you take an actual chance first and maybe haphazard throwing a rose to your preluded hope, before you hang up your coat in defeat and throw it at your pre-dug grave instead? What if such an unexpected act of courage takes you where you needed to be and…more perhaps? What? If?

Courage, sugarcoated tongues call it. I call it blind and utter foolishness. Yes, I know that I willingly write about fate and destiny and the skinny scarlet threads potentially intertwining our two-syllable names at the A; but beyond that, I dare not stake my chances for a temporary happily-ever-after, nor do I refer to the gathering dust on my windowsill as fairy glitter. I know fully well what is beyond my means, and my means, in turn, know better than to continuously contradict me.

My palpitating heart and tremulous breaths, however, do not. For I have tried my untrained hand at a foreign chord inversion, and now all the blood has rushed into my skull and poured out of my gaping orifices. Everything feels so exhilaratingly t h i c k . . .

Well, curse me and my one-track mind, then. And hex/jinx/potion/burn-at-the-stake combination my asinine brain with its obsessions and hyperfixations and aspirations that focus solely on overblown proportions, it finds a shiny object that it likes and, akin to a stubborn, rabid magpie, it harshly grits its beak until one or the other shatters and even then, it does. Not. Let. Go.

Sooner or later, the hardheaded magpie will starve to death.

Honestly, I would sorely like to believe in cosmic mysticism. In soulmates and “the ones” and in pure, innocent, whimsical luck. I want to believe that if I close my eyes and daydream vividly enough, some of the pieces will slowly melt and start trickling right into the infinitesimal cracks of reality, and when I gasp awake, there shall be more shades of colour beyond my imagining—like the quaintly iridescent hue of their iris—waiting patiently in front of me. To live and to dream and yet to do neither

But in the end, no matter what I choose to believe in, I am still unfortunately a victim to reality. In reality I rightfully reside, and so in its rules I must abide—no matter how demanding, or unfair, or just plain disappointing. C’est la vie. So I must do my very best to stifle my raging adoration and love in secret—otherwise, must they think me so childishly petty?

Long ago have I ceased caring for physical intimacy, anyhow. For satiating a strange hunger that was never actually within me to begin with, like a rather curious augmentation dot in a measure that has long since ended. And I personally find it much easier to think without such fantastical denouements further clouding already-confused judgment. I simply seek another life to hold out to. Another arrangement to harmonise with mine in more pleasant overtones, and create a completely new melody once unheard of. I simply seek someone to understand with.

But even that, particularly during these trying times and ages, is already far too much to ask for. Even more unfortunately so than the former. I have found mine allure and yet lost it in the same clumsy risk. It’s affected me so much that even as I write this down, I can’t help but speak in constant musical metaphors. For I love in the same concentrated frequency as I devote my life to music. In unexpected eleven by eights and stiffer four by four cadences, in novelistic sonatas that dance around in dizzying triptychs and roaring otherworldly symphonies without a conductor present to keep it at bay; music and love and [?????], so tightly intertwined together, practically stitched at the smallest seams, inseparable, infinite, molto allargando. A trifecta of syncopated synergy tethered directly to my pulse. No wonder it is absolute agony whenever I attempt to pull one away from the other.

But music, just like everyone and everything else, desperately desires resolution. Life rarely ever offers one.

So, where do I go from here? I am hopelessly stuck tapping my fingers along to a singular timbre, and since I know all too well that there is no other exact same (or even similar) intensity nor perfect pitch that will ever come close to matching this one, I chose to deafen my entire hearing instead. There shall be no more lighthearted serenading melodies or serendipitous harmonies playing in bloom after this cantabile. I have completely given up trying. I am simply far too tired of it all to even bother anymore. I just want to get over this reckless charade and move on with my life. Better to have nothing than too much, one supposes.

Ah, to be young and in love. I quite feel as though I barely even fit in one category anymore, and yet I still vicariously persist in the other; like an octogenarian layman nearly drowning in the same river many times over the course of their entire four decades of living, whilst somehow vainly hoping to catch a pretty feathered dove. Existence is admittedly rarely too dull—but it is, however, messy and pointless and full of cacophonous noises and obnoxious plot holes. That’s what makes it exciting. I’d very much rather be bored to death.

So tell me, how does one love if they do not know how to—and do not ever want to? How does one get rid of love when this exhausted cliché has nothing left to give, yet invisibly clings on to them like an unpleasant earworm just to suck them dry and make their stomach feel relentlessly sick? And how does one ridiculously fall prey to love over and over again and still keep crawling back for just one more bruise—when I myself have already stretched out every aching muscle, squeezed out every drop of vital liquid, and fractured every bone in my abused and protesting body just to get rid of one person, like a frenetic rondo without decrescendo???

Perhaps it’s an acquired taste. Perhaps the primal survival of our specie deems it necessary. Perhaps I am simply fucking weak.

Truly, I am not jealous of most people’s normal ability to let themselves loose and dive headfirst into everything at an uncharted whim. I am only ever jealous over my own lack of self-control with my incessant, irrational, one-sided reverence; though the mercurial world’s unpredictable rhythm pushes past like a steady heartbeat as it constantly heeds me to move on. Move on. Move on.

If only I were more human than that.

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Filed under Prose, Valentines Poetry

in which love is just another imagined story by a hopeless writer who has dysgraphia

“and though to my arms you are forever lost,
you are a prisoner in my fantasy.”

~Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

~*~

you are my sweetest fiction,

conjured, derived from the very ends of

the lacklustre impediment

that is my algid imagination.

light calla lips flushed pleasantly

(though, i may only be imagining it so)

elusive soul a taunting fugitive

(from which i could never hope to catch

with bare hands and bare feet)

cerise smile melting upon liquid gaze

before i then realise—the blood was my own.

missing birthdays, unsent letters

piling into sealed dictionaries upon my oaken desk

and again, i weep the night sky

in the grievous absence of your starlight.

falling, falling; lilies, lilies,

plucked like shimmering innocence

from the skin of my gritted teeth, sighing

irreplaceable—!

though, your divine body is not mine

to ruin and revere relentlessly

under eternal storybooks and lost volumes of

anthologies, the empty pages

all at once interjecting: “impossible?!”

but, is it always so? must my fluttering shyness

be short-lived like your tyranny?

surely we must not always adore the

blinking butterflies, cascading iridescence

billowing solemnly into my reverie—

accidental interruption.

aralias, aralias; painful, painful;

i am to dirty fly as you are to decadent fruit

dragged down rather cruelly into

the ad infinitum of your fiery veneration

and i am unable to twist my words into cathartic

crashing, collapsing, holding it in…

but, i do not mind at all; for i lost mine

the moment you slipped from enthrallment into

the ache of my charismatic sternum,

submerging me in pacific oceans of desire—

enchantingly alluring me into the cozen, shackling confines

of the prison you call your heart.

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Filed under Poetry, Valentines Poetry

The Madman’s Magnum Opus

Insane is all I know right now, and my head feels demented

My nails fall out, my gums decay, before I get sedated

I choke on my teeth and swallow a few, shit, it feels hard

As they wring the spit from my eyes and again I’m a discard

So numb that I couldn’t feel the knife on my spine anymore

And I couldn’t count the tally marks screaming on the wall

Keeping track of the infinite days when the demon lets me be

And inches its fangs closer to put me out of my stagnant misery

.

Because the blood tastes more delectable when it’s not my own

As the whores that I corrupted bring my wasted body home

They don’t flinch at the maggots that they suck from my mouth

But they do protest before the chloroform hits their breathing south

No no, it’s not torture, I promise I won’t ever hurt you, my dear

I just wish to lick away all your mingling doubts and puerile fear

But don’t piss yourself, don’t soil your skin, or I’ll be very mad indeed

Behave yourself and stay sweet as hell, or you’ll die before you heed

.

But they caught me revering over one of my masterpiece creations one day

Yelling loud profanities to such beauties, that’s not a very nice thing to say

They dislocated my shoulder just trying to put my artistic hands in cuffs

And took away my beloved artworks, goddamn these useless criticising cops

So that’s how I ended up in here, living and sleeping in a filthy jail cell

With a colossal man who uses me to play every night as if I couldn’t even tell

The food is bland, the nurses laugh, the doctors give me exclusive diseases

The medicine is cheap and expired, putting my mind under heavy poisoned dazes

.

But it’s alright, because the girls I love visit me when no one else is looking

Their breaths may be putrid, their bones may protrude, but I won’t be complaining

And they’re building a rope out of their intestines to help with my grand escape

Don’t worry, I’ll be back to make you feel loved again, so just you patiently wait

They may inject cholera and botulism in me, and force me to see an underpaid shrink

But I won’t be deluded at all, no, as clear as a dark day I can still properly think

I’ll lace my pustule-dotted hands with anthrax and touch them until they’re all dead

Writhing on the floor as I step on their bodies, no one can help these bastards now

.

But for now, insane is all I can ever know, and all this pain feels rather demented

My cheeks slough off, my ears leak brain fluid, yet I feel so divinely elevated

I suffocate on plastic pills and jolt again from the electroshock, shit, it’s such a buzz

As they wring the tears from my broken neck and again I black out with a slurred cuss

So insensible I couldn’t feel the rusted scalpel slicing out my frontal lobe anymore

But I wouldn’t have to count the scratched tally marks shrieking at me on the stone wall

Because when the demon rends another piece from my heart and transfers immortality

Vengeance will be served and heads will roll; this world is damned, so I’ll add a little more beauty.

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B-Side: Lament (Deep Cut)

There’s nowhere to run
No one can save me
The damage is done
Shot through the heart
And you’re to blame
You give love a bad name…

~*~

Verse 1:

I’m the kind of human wreckage

That no one would dare to love

My carbon dioxide is reeking of

Rotten memories that I once had

.

Verse 2:

I’m the raging storm in a desert

A tantrum on, the whirling sands

Fighting surrendering to defeat

This uproarious rage never stops

.

Bridge:

I do love it when my makeup runs

My wounds are not meant to stun

Don’t come near, I’m a loaded gun

I’ll only hit you with fool’s lies, hun

.

Chorus:

But, oh why can’t you just leave me?

I don’t believe in a forever valentine

You fill my heart with cyanide lead

Promise me you’ll go away this time

.

Verse 3:

First time our eyes met, I shuddered

Your beady grey eyes told of a nutter

And I grimaced in my severe disgust

But somehow you mistook it for lust

.

Verse 4:

Because of you, my soul, it fears

I crash on the tide of frigid tears

Life is dark, a monochrome leer

You’re the devil, with evil sneers

.

Elision:

Novelettish words so oppressive

You’re so maudlin and defensive

You might reckon me as evasive

But it is not that I am insensitive

.

Hook:

Don’t you understand? I can’t feel

It feels like a choice, less of a will

Go ahead, laugh, at the sociopath

I’m no stranger to prejudiced laugh

.

Refrain:

But why can’t you just leave me?

You’re so blinded, you can’t see

Idiot’s drug love got you too high

I’ll do what it takes, don’t ever try

.

Outro:

It was do or die, but you took it literal

Blood drips, yours or mine, I can’t tell

You ask me one last time, hell, I guess

Let’s just get your shit over with—yes.

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Side-A: Ballad (Greatest Hit)

Now this boy’s addicted ’cause
Your kiss is the drug, woah
Your love is like bad medicine
Bad medicine is what I need, oh
Shake it up just like bad medicine
There ain’t no doctor that can cure my disease…

~*~

Verse 1:

You’re the kind of innocence

That I’ll wholeheartedly love

Your breath of mint and sugar

Tastes sweeter than life, dove

.

Verse 2:

You remind me of summertime

A radio on, a cooled coffee cup

Sensations surrender to decline

A languid peace that never stops

.

Bridge:

Nevermind your mascara runs

If your wrists cry, not your eyes

I’ll kiss away your revolver gun

I won’t pepper you with silly lies

.

Chorus:

But why can’t you just love me?

Dear, I’ll be your eternal valentine

You fill my heart with jubilance

Promise me that you will be mine

.

Verse 3:

First time our eyes met, I shivered

Your sky blue eyes bloomed colour

You smiled, and my feeling soared

I knew that day it was my true love

.

Verse 4:

Because of you, my soul, it flutters

I’m swimming on turbulent waters

Life is in glorious full technicolour

You’re my angel, purity and velour

.

Elision:

My affections beat my affectations

I’m a man efflorescent compassion

It’s spiralling, my galaxy of emotions

So won’t you be my nostrum potion?

.

Hook:

Don’t you understand how I feel?

I am chasing for you, this is real

Go ahead, tease me being sappy

I won’t care, at least I’ll be happy

.

Refrain:

But oh, why can’t you just love me?

I’m so blinded by your light, so see

I’m your fool, you got me way high

I will do what it takes for you to try

.

Outro:

It was do or die babe, the deed is done

One final word to enliven me with sun

Now I will ask you, just one more time

Will you accept it and be my valentine?

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Dolorous Decadentia

Is your heart singing out of tune?
Are your eyes just singing the blues?
Dirty records from another time
Some bloodstains on your shoes…

~*~

LOVE

Lonely, some are, looking desperately for a lifetime companion

Others may care not for their contagious desolation

Voices of sound reason becomes whispers of absolute treason

Everyone seems to fall on their knees, limerent to a faux ecstasy of a season.

~*~

ROSE

Rampaging against these tidal waves of cruel thorns

Over and under, on my rough skin the crisscrossing wounds are newly-born

Some blood may be shed, some injuries may never come to a complete close

Every pain matters not when I finally reach the single, beautiful red rose.

~*~

FORM

For this waltz of desecration and dignity, hold your chosen lover tight

Odalisque charm or sincere soul, harbinger of darkness or provider of light

Rays of heartless romance that pierce your flickering, faltering health

May your one last dance with life be graceful as you get pulled away by death.

~*~

STAR

Sharpened double blades of luminary constellation

Truculent tempers in a supernova, anger that causes exhilaration

Arrivals and fluxing of colour and chrome, radiant from afar

Relieve the moments when I felt dim and yet you still made me a star.

~*~

JINX

Je ne sais quoi, that’s how my doubtful, errant feelings felt at first

In times whenever I catch your sight, my heart seems to achingly thirst

Now I know the cold truth though, that I was poisoned with a with a diluted love liquid

Xenophilia was nothing but a desensitised lie that you set up for my emotions so insipid.

~*~

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Filed under Poetry, Valentines Poetry

Amor, Corda, Sanguis III: BLOOD

(Part three.)

Honey…wake up…dear…darling?…

I  woke up, and my dear wife was dead

Shotgun, a bullet put through her head

The bed, the sheets, the floor, they flood

With endless amounts of warm, sticky blood

I blinked my eyes, and cried in vain

When I realized that this was not a dream

Who did this!? Which sick bastard killed my wife!?

Which psychotic bitch broke her pretty face, ended her life!?

How the hell am I supposed to live without her?

She was my life, my core, my soul, my lover!

No…why, just why have they done this to me!?

My dearest angel, my love, please don’t leave me, can’t you see!?

God, why have you done this to me, to her!?

She didn’t do anything wrong! She was so innocent, so much better!

No…just wait…wait, I still hear her voice so loud!

My wife! She’s still awake and alive! Clear and proud!

Darling, are you here? Are you forever trapped in that mirror?

Is that just my ghastly reflection? What is happening? What’s this horror?

Please, no, my love, come down here, come back to my life!

Don’t come with those Seraphs, my soul will be filled with endless strife!

…I hear them coming…the persistent voices…the are near

The requiems are getting louder, soon…they’ll be arriving here

I cannot live like this anymore, so I guess I’ll beat them to the race

Just wait for me, my darling…soon, just once more, again, I’ll see your face

Honey…please…no…I…I…love…you…..

Goodbye.

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Amor, Corda, Sanguis II: HEARTS

(Part two.)

Honey…wake up, dear…darling?

No…no…

Are you okay? Come on, wake up sleepyhead, it’s already morning!

Must…killl…no, more, lies…

Dear? What is this? Are you having a nightmare?

Must…not…death, death…He’s near…

Oh no, wake up love, please, I’m getting scared!

Ah, you’re awake, that’s a big relief for me!

Are you okay now? I made you some breakfast, dearie~

…My wife…she’s…she’s dead.

What? That’s just ridiculous, I’m not dead, I’m still here!

A bullet…straight through her head.

No honey, I’m still alive,come on, do not fear!

What do I do!? She’s gone, she’s gone!

Love, Is this a joke? Are you even listening?

What will I do!? What have they done!?

Please listen to me! Face me! This isn’t amusing!

No…no! You! You killed her!

What!? No, it’s me, your wife!

You sick bastard, why have you killed my lover!?

I didn’t kill myself! I’m still full of life!

You murderer, you fucker, you sick, sick psycho!

Why are you doing this!? Have you gone mad!?

Must…avenge…her life…yes…NO!

Darling, what are you dong with that gun? No, please, this is bad!

You must die, I don’t care if I die with you, you killer freak!

Nooooo! I don’t wanna die, I don’t want you to die, stop this, please!

No more chances for you…click, click, click

Honey…please…no…I…I…love…you…..

Goodbye.

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Amor, Corda, Sanguis I: LOVE

(Part one of my late valentines post.)

I love you…

The moon shall rise, and the planets falter

But my love for you will never alter

The sun shall burn on, and the universe corrode

The unknown found and the mysteries get decode

The wind’ll stop breathing, the world will cease to spin

But I’ll take you away, you’re my regretless sin

I don’t care if they chain me, fill my head with lies

I’ll still hold your hands tight as we fly into paradise

To your darkest days, I’ll be your light

I’ll be the guide to the tunnel, I’ll be the sword in your fight

We’ll fight the demons together, break free from the chains

I’ll take the crippling depression away, all the hurt and the pain

I don’t mind the chaos ensuing, the bedlam that will arise

I’ll pull heaven and hell together, just to see your eyes

And even though I’ll have to travel far, have to walk a million miles

I’ll drag these shackles day and night just to see that smile

I’ll save you from those scorching flames, though the demons claim my soul

I do not care if the universe rips apart, I’ll still do my role

And as the world ends, I’ll pull you close into my heart

And together we’ll watch as the world plunges into the dark

.

.

.

Even though you pulled the trigger that cost me my life

And your crimson-stained hands now wield a sharp glinting knife

And even if I sit in Heaven while you burn in eternal flames in Hell

I still love you so much, that I could tell.

Darling, can you hear me? Goodbye…

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Love and Hate : Valentines Post #3

L-est you want to be cold corpse, or forever gone

O-r a slave, damned eternally, a tortured bloody pet

V-iew me as your world, your only one

E-asy as that, so do not fret

.

A-ll your love and adoration goes straight to me

N-o other person, animal, or any living thing

D-edicate your whole life to me, I’m the only one you should see

.

H-ell is what you’ll feel if you break your promise

A-ll of my rage and fury will be unleashed

T-treat me well and you won’t regret

E-ntertain me, my love, my cute little pet.

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