Tag Archives: fall

A Momentary Lapse of Judgment

Dissonance playing rhythms in my mind

My mouth is barely touching the ground

Both my eyes cannot find their way down

Back again, I am drifting without a sound

In momentary distractions, unmemorable

Surface words leaving the barest of ripples

On the distilled clear of the glacial lakeside

With every lambent flourishing and withers

Silver lines tying and intertwining intricate

Then colourblind separation falls apart like

A shower of collapsing glasshouse, piercing

Opalescent, as shatters of astern fragile skies

Alluvial perspectivism resting itself on hearts

That have never once touched pure rainwater,

The magnitude concealing itself within caprice

And presenting in caustic dyes of oasis failures

Cacophonies dancing tarantellas in my thoughts

And my lilting lips are barely tasting the sunlight

Both of my hands can’t pull their own weight up

Back again, I’m crashing violently without a sight.


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submerge me

under crystalline depths

i’m taking on

these liquid-laden breaths

haunted by the

cold bite of the coastal air

and i’m hanging

by the sand, shorn away bare

while my body is

pulled under the stygian grave

of chasmic serenity—

returning again like a tidal wave

choking on water

and the breeze becomes critical

i’m falling away

elastic flesh numb and insensible

i will sink down

before i can move myself to swim

please let me drown

water in my lungs, death in my sins.

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Shades of Blue

the taciturn rain,

sometimes quiescent drizzle,

sometimes clarion storm

reminds me of turquoise memories


of electric glitter nail polish

shaded onto fingernails

pointing in the wrong direction

and chipping at the edges


of hair that looks like clouds

but coloured blueberry-slushie sky

and is iridescently sweet

like a gloom boy’s laughter


of sulky mp3 players

singing sempiternal distractions with

symphonies of dizzy dreamers

and skyward soul collisions


of apathetic faded scarves

wrapped around breeze-bitten necks

subtly referencing a beloved one

of the same jaded violin notes


of self-made backpack straps

a final flicker of glimpsing hope

before cosmic turns infinitely invisible

and footsteps cease giving chase


of cerulean paint peeling off bus seats

revealing a dull sheathe of grey slate

of wailing sirens intertwined with alarming red

of the ocean navy pen composing this poem


of the sky and the sea, melting horizon’s clarity

stark in mindless scratches adhering to scarred skin

the taciturn rain, so quiet, that cobalt eyes never noticed

coldness ceased falling, as blue memories caught up with me.

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Hold On, Fall Away

Do you know
I count your heartbeats before you sleep?
I bite my fingernails to bone
And then I crawl back under the stairwell
To a place I call my home…


Hold on, she says, and her suspended voice feels like a serpentine blossom, mutinous choking thorns wrapped gracelessly around the wall of my deflated lungs’ chambers, puncturing them effectively and leaving me gasping for the air that never enters my mouth.

But I can’t breathe anymore, I implore.

Hold on, that simple phrase again, manipulative and senseless, gently caressing the convoluted scars on my wet face like quietly-raining feathers from a fallen divine being’s cast wings, the burning touch barely grazing past decrepit flesh, ethereal and gossamer.

I didn’t want to miss anything, but the wind is chafing my dehydrated eyes. So I blink. I suddenly feel dizzy and nearly fall flat on my back, reveries resting as I attempt to steady myself. Sleep would be so merciful right now.

Hold on, another rousing round to jolt back the drowsy senses of my rapidly-decaying nerves. Each uttered word is like the sweetest taste of corrupted fruit in an exegesis dream, and I can’t allow myself to swallow it anymore, even if I took the first bite of sin.

Don’t make me do this. A foreign voice breaks the muffled barrier, and I flinch in static shock before shamefully realising that the unfamiliar sound was my own. Who…who was I now?

Hold on, the conversation hits like a loaded shotgun with a chipped bayonet, bullet penetrating the back of my head and cracking my skull once, before the sharpened blade cleanly slices through my wandering brain, a merciless double kill for certainty. Bang. Crash. Slash. Crack. Death.

I’m forgetting the colour of your hair now, the dainty lavender scent that follows you around everywhere you flutter, the way your plush lips mouthed serenades that collided and lit up fireworks in my reflection; I’m forgetting the sensation of seeing you, of wanting to see you again.

Hold on, the promenading whisper has amalgamated into an earsplitting scream now, dangerous hedonism dancing in demons and demigods around my shattered ears, past my constricting throat, relentlessly waltzing in wearied circles over and under what used to be the armistice memory of you.

No—My deteriorating vision blurs and falters, cascading and collapsing in iridescent shades of gold and silver, coalescing in glistening hues of diamonds and rubies, fluctuating in pastel blossoms of jasmines and forget-me-nots, all before shutting down into that damning void of sempiternal blackness. The last thing I saw with my weakening sight was her colourless ashen eyes tear up once, twice.

Hold on…was the last thing I ever heard.


Murder the moment!
My god, I’m the serpent
I’m sorry, I can’t see
That you truly love me…

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Filed under Prose

bang bang

a yesterday

or two ago

i watched

my child

grow up and

get married


but today

and in the now

i watched

my child

fall down and

get buried.

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i can do shameless too (and this one goes out to you)

As we wake up in your room
Your face is the first thing I see
The first time I’ve seen love
And the last I’ll ever need
You remind her that your future
Would be nothing without her…


a s h a m e d

of violent emotions

branded on the

underside of my

numb, petulant brain,

making dizzy patterns

and dainty waves

and tracing cicatrices

of infantile graves,

returning to plague

what i always confused

and refused to admit…

y e s  i  c a n  f e e l

as the argent feathers

on your hair are effulgent,

dwelling ebony shades

escaping the delight of

my aspired clairvoyance.

they spite me for being

no stranger to the beggar

c a l l e d  l o v e

for always greeting it

rather fastidiously and

tossing a merciful nickel

whenever i chance upon it

on a bustling boulevard,

instead of spitting and

sneering condescendingly

and holding back my

burning tongue to trip it.

am i cruel for being kind?

dear, you’re a halogen

h a l l u c i n a t i o n

and i am but a yonder

sabotaged daydream

and i shall keep on falling

victim to your musings,

like a burning ochre moth

to the sickly sweet fragrance

of the kerosene oil…

so, is that truly my solitary

t r a n s g r e s s i o n ?

for being able to accept

what i’ve always constantly

abhorred and denied,

only to discover in denouement

that i’m the only fool that’s

crashing unsteady bridges

and drowning in the process—?

i shall not be craven of

the grander bouts of unknown,

for i’ve my own armament

tucked and hidden away

in a four-chambered dungeon;

ready to slash and shear

at the abstract canvas which

they all mocked as an

i n s u l t i n g  a r t w o r k .

you are not incarcerated,

but i am yours perpetual to

black out to the moon

and i will return from my

stratosphere holiday carrying

a souvenir star, lifting

the light to you, so that we

will never have to be

a s h a m e d.


If you kiss me goodnight
I’ll know, everything is alright
Second chances won’t leave us alone
Won’t leave us alone
‘Cause there’s faith in love…

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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


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

Pockets With Holes

‘Cause I’ve broken bones for you
And for you only
I make money but we just can’t
Keep this home…


i don’t ever want

the world to fall apart

just because of avaricious eyes

begging for fool’s gold

i’ll burn all the money i have

and let my house collapse

into a decrepit debris

if that means i could keep you

because this isn’t all about

shiny pennies and diamonds

that we try to mine under our flesh

and yet only unearth coal

this is about all those prospects

we threw to the faraway moon

how our unfortunate fates

aren’t spun into twisted infinity signs

yes, our mouths may be empty

but it doesn’t mean our hearts have to be

so set your faith past obscuring greed

and cease bleeding for the sake of worthless riches.


Give me your heart
And your hand
And we can run
(You’re my hope)…

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The End of an Era

Here he is, he saves a grin
He wants to be the one who doesn’t have to sink a level
Indiscrete, in his retreat
All he needs is just a taste of the bitter pride
He held in her name…


Limits have their breaking pointss

And can fall in utter disrepair

What used to be bound with ropes

Now dangles by a precarious strand of hair


Mirrors have their cracking webs

And when they spread, it can shatter

No matter how hard you try to fix it

It’s won’t show the same reflection ever


Bodies have their wounds and sickness

And we’ll always try to slowly heal

But someday no medicine could cure

And we will then be rapidly killed


Words have an end to their capacity

Someday you might run out of meaning

We talk and take things for granted

And in the end are left silently staring


People have their gentle push

But sometimes it comes to a shove

And no amount of closing apologies

Can ever return the former love.


He’s in love with an isolation from emotion
Here he is awaiting sentence
A fool to think that anyone can escape guilt and anguish
A subtlety that can’t be learned, a subtlety that can’t be taught
He is caught in the lure of second thoughts
He might still care, as he settles down well aware…

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luna cielo

for there never was

and never will be

a finer vagrant soul

to poetically allude me

than the billows of notes

that fall from your shade

and the stars in your lips

to sing a thousand serenades

dear, if only i could compose

about all my woeful throes

in lights enchanting as yours

no word a wasted recourse

and the aesthete that lies

beneath restless amber eyes

will dream up a promise

for fallen eternity’s premise

where the universe spins

as relentless time should be

and no whispers of parallels

between the lines of you and me

i’m quite dizzy from the sun again

but i’ll close my hands, count to ten

and wait against such fragile hope

that you’re the sunrise to decode

so why do i weep, ever still?

in the midst of my bedroom floor

only bare remnants remain, until

a voice paints a distant nevermore

of faithless keep, an endless rue

tomorrow’s heart, nor i nor you

southern nights, quaint afterglow

the days pass on as we’ll quietly go

i may be weary, yet do not think

i’ll give up when i’m on the brink

let’s chase the wind, and we’ll ascend

to an everlasting paradise we can spend

for there never was and never will be

a finer valiant soul to poetically allure me

than the muse of the moon and billowing notes

that fall from your shade and the stars that you wrote.

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