Tag Archives: dedication

Hime-time

When I’m around you, I’m predictable
‘Cause I believe in loving you with first sight
I know it’s crazy but I’m hoping
To take a hold of you…

~*~

Smoother than the

Bass guitar that

You play ever

So awesomely,

More energetic

Than the crowds

That cheer you on

Every single night,

Funnier than a

Boy walking about

With only a shirt

Covering his legs,

More surprising

Than the clandestine

Talent of your

Angelic singing,

The man who

Can ruin people’s

Lives by wearing

A black beanie.

A talented guy

With a killer smile

And dimples deeper

Than the ocean,

And with it

You drown me

In palpable vivacity

And happiness.

~*~

Could this be out of line? (Could this be out of line?)
To say you’re the only one breaking me down like this
You’re the only one I would take a shot on
Keep me hanging on so contagiously…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

C.C.

In my shoes, a walking sleep
And my youth I pray to keep
Heaven sent hell away
No one sings like you anymore…

~Black Hole Sun; Soundgarden

~*~

You didn’t stay

For the encore,

But you left a

Mark deeper

Than the cut

Of the razor.

You didn’t stay

To take a bow,

But you are a

Legend, you

Didn’t need

One anyhow.

Rock in peace.

3 Comments

Filed under Poetry

Naptime

Beetle black eyes

And candy breath

You will go far, kid

So take a first step

Cobweb fine hair

Innocence astute

Tictac teeth grins

Bunny fluffy cute

Softer than pillow

Or marshmallows

Bumblebee laugh

Every blink hopes

A vivacious spirit

After the long day

Of giggling, crying

Curious soul plays

As you laid to rest

I pondered you on

A wondrous child

My smile guessed

This tired little tot

Tranquil as can be

Sweet dreams, kid

Dream of life for me.

1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

messages over mugs of coffee

why do i drown

in coffee cups

every time

i sense your

presence?

and what is

it with you

that makes

my clarity an

omniscience?

why does my

heart leap

like a gymnast

every time i

read each letter?

and why, oh

why do i know

it’s not the

coffee’s fault

that i feel better?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Misadventures

image

~*~

She looks up to me and whispers, “I won’t be here in a year.”

~*~

Year of misadventures

Red ink harsh on paper

365 days on emotions

I love it, its medication

With lyricism eloquent

Melodies spun in pent

Dive in to songs within

Its notes floral & fading

Sambukas on the patio

Just bedless in Mexico

Circles around the pain

Texas, forever remains

Phantom power mingle

Ludicrous as speedster

Today we’ll see it most

The whole world coast

Gold medal ribbon pins

Zero in its divine whim

Creepy hotel, ’69 mess

An album of craziness

Thank you for that fun

For the tears that’ll run

Soul stopping at 3 AM

Heart crash since then

Fuentes on a path long

Hime times, tone bone

Isabelle sings her song

As the boys carry home.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Mütter

This hasn’t been your year. Matter of fact, not a single year in your forty plus years of living, minus a several tenths for when we didn’t exist yet, has been quite too fulfilling. And understandably, it’s been a rough ride. You’ve been flying this journey Lindbergh solo for five years and counting now, and you weren’t always locked and loaded, and the machinery was not always all systems go, and the weather was not always clear. We’ve been ungrateful bastards who act like sweet-smelling pink roses intertwining around you with pretty innocent smiles, and then we bury our lacerating thorns deep in your steel-plated chest until we hit flesh and you bleed. We’re irresponsible lazy creatures, we get that, we refuse the simplest of chores, saying no to refilling the water bottles after downing the entire one litre liquid in one gulp, or slam dunking our filthy dishes in the overflowing sink and then denying appraisal over doing the washing-up. We grate on your nerves at the worst time when they’re already stretched to their limits, and we pull at them until you snap. We’ve been disappointing and apathetic, and you can only scream and reprimand so much before your worn-out voice and the fingers you crossed breaks. We’re no good, and vexingly frustrating, and annoyingly juvenile, and seemingly hopeless and futile…just like any other stupid nose-picking kid out there who needs guidance and care in the gentle yet sturdy hands of a parent. You simply wanted the best for the worst, and some due indemnity and pride, and to set your wayward children on the proper path, not into the ocean horizon to drown in sovereign failure, but onwards beyond the sunset to discover the way and amass all the lights in the sky. Someday, that’s a promise to be fulfilled. But for now, we remain your stupid bumbling companions, building bridges to last longer than London Bridge and making memories on a photo album (or selfies, as the cool millennials say or whatever, since you seem to be more connected with my generation than I can ever be). I feel faintly terrible that after all that you did for us, for me alone, I wasn’t able to get you anything decently celebratory or did anything to make this one hell of a day, except for a greeting card written with a dying marker on used tissue that says ‘congration you done it’, an IOU written on paper ripped off carelessly on the side of a notebook that entitled you to an entire day of my silence (valid on May 14, 2017 only), and doing the aforementioned chores which I should be doing on a daily regular basis anyhow, so I can only offer with what I do best—getting drunk. Oh no wait, that’s a different thing innit, that’s rubbish. I meant to say writing (although the best is not even good, to be bluntly frank). You out of all people needed a cheer upper and a break, and I out of all people should be the one giving you such things. So, here it is. And despite you begrudgingly commenting it several times today, no, the universe does not always conspire against you. Sometimes it’s me who does.

I took the time to write all this down because (besides the fact that I am equal amounts bored and sleep-deprived, which is like 95% of the time, but whatever) despite all the bickering arguments and thermonuclear meltdowns and endless disputes we’ve rivalled against, we’ve also had amusing stories and extraordinary journeys together and silly banter over cups of freshly brewed coffee, and I would like you to know that there’s still someone who cares, that this anxiety-ridden, book hoarding, show obsessing, loud satanic music blasting, three AM screaming, rebellious blue-haired loser with the problem child attitude, a death stare and eyebags thicker than Billie Joe Armstrong and Gerard Way’s eyeliner combined, the general behaviour of a mental patient diagnosed with schizophrenia and severe ADHD, and having the irritating tendency to not reply unlike a complete rhetorical sarcastic twat without getting allergic to formalities, is, insert dramatic Psycho violin chord here, surprise surprise! A sentient being capable of being a sappy little bitch (you may proceed to gasp and wipe away your tears with my greeting card after scolding me for using an expletive). My particular thorn in question is a raging problem that has left a scar tissue in your heart more times than the other roses you’ve cultivated, and still you don’t water my roots with poison laden concoction and shear my stem off ruthlessly with my own disturbing scissor collection to off me and get rid of the nuisance; instead, you spritz my face with more fertiliser, tentatively remove the weeds that stunt my development as it chokes me, and you help me continue to grow. I’m beginning to stop making sense here, and this is getting too sentimentally personal, and you would most likely whale on me the next morning for staying up late because we have to go to school tomorrow to clean up or some crap, so I’m very sorry for all my tribulations and for a million sins (yes, the fact that I decided to tactlessly blast out Mama on full loudspeakers on such a particular day included, whoops), and a thank you, more genuine than pirate gold and your signatures in the excuse letters I forged, for being here all the while and being a total headstrong badass about it. Okay, no, I can’t say the god forbidding L word yet *shudders*, but maybe I’ll save that for a later, less awkward prospect (what is with all the excessive L words in that sentence though?!). Here’s me paying my side of the dice. Thank you for everything and a gazillion virtues, and then some.

Happy mother’s day.

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Transpierce the Roquelaure

Velvety bands of scarlet strychnine

Incite lips of gold against thorazine

Corpses pile, mental confidentiality

Jealousy and regret shatters sanity

An aftertaste as sweet as medicine

Internal communication last beyond

Menageries and cold sloppy seconds

Ebullience like whirlpools in a stream

Tallahassee sunset, tinctured chancel

Obstructions for his reptilian affinities

Neverwhere, of wars among the stars

Younger than the universe of infinities

Miracles about brotherly camaraderie

Incidents of an instrument symphony

Knives they kept, but allayed hysteria

End; a team of four repose in California.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

letters to pluto

hearts of monochrome

all lined in a tome

stamps staring as you

open the envelope

letters of chromaticicity

plucked from stars

and they spin and spiral

like skin with scars

colliding, our eloquence

in myriad nonsense

the girl with hopes to say

on inky parchment

you are a pluto in a solar

system of dreams

never one to be noticed

but no one forgets

your place in the sky, it seems.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry