Tag Archives: moon

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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sweet sundown sky

there’s a peach hanging from the sky

or maybe it’s an apricot

or a freshly-ripe pomegranate…

but whatever it is,

it looks deliciously sweet and succulent

and i’m very much tempted

to pluck it off the honeycomb fade

of the descending horizon

even though it might burn my fingers—

and take a bite of that tuscan sun

to taste a million explosions

dancing and flaring on my excited tongue

for a final palatable moment

all before the golden platter sunset

is ushered away from me

and the table is draped with velvet ebony

embroidered with scintillating stains

of sparkling yellow sugar

presented marvelously before me

and i open the silver tray in anticipation

only to be delightedly surprised

with a half-eaten moon pie.

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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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Mood Rings

I never have to carefully shape sentences
When I’ve got some words to say
They’re falling from my mouth from the time
That they hit my brain
‘Cause we built a picture made for frames
We live in chemistry away from all the wasted time and taste…


There’s a reason why I like the pink in your mood

My words hit the ground, but you catch them so we’re good

If time’s running out for me, I’ll be sure to take it slow

I may be high on conflict but on your sights I’m low


The amount of space between my smile and eyes are closing in

But frustration and disappearing sense is not a problem

Because if you laugh, then I laugh, and if you cry, then I die

The city’s a slow waltz into the colourful cocktails we have to try


I may speak my mind but I talk with my heart

And it only takes one skipping beat to know where to start

I keep falling for everything that wants nothing to do with me

But I’ll keep trying until the blondes stop being pretty


I change so quickly, I don’t even know what to think

And your face goes from soft violet to vivid blush like a 90’s trick

I’m the rain that you chase, you’re the lone cloud in May

Our weather’s too erratic and unstable, but I adore it anyway


So don’t get me wrong, your fingers may be pointing

But I’ll take them in my hand and yell bang, the bullet’s flying

You’re troubled by the clothes you wear, confused looks good on you

It accentuates the glow in your halo, but you never had a clue


I’m asking all the wrong questions, but you still answer them right

And I’m hoping to the moon that you’ll answer the most important one tonight

I’m dirty red, you’re canary yellow, let’s collide together and be orange fire

A hurricane’s sleeping in my bedroom, can I stay over? We can dream until we’re tired.


My mood’s dictated by our conversations
And if you don’t text I get too frustrated
I want you all to myself this time, t-t-time
Conflicted looks good on me, I’m trying desperately
I want you all to myself this time, t-t-time…


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Gloom Boys in Natural Blue

I have candy floss over my eyes, and no one can ever take that away from me.

I’m a double dare away from jumping into the clouds and getting lost in heaven, and even though their motionless lips tell me otherwise, imploring that the despondent sun will burn my frail skin and my charred cape will drag me back down into the ground, I’ll simply fly over them and defy what it means to be human.

For being an angel is not made of mere matchsticks and febriculic feathers, rather, it is the catastrophic sensation of breathing in your existence from your lungs and never letting it go, holding your oxygen in so tight that your chest will hurt, and tasting the very molecule that the wind is built up of, all before exhaling heavily and letting others share the light that passed the very chambers of your symphonic heart, and inhaling that decadent love once more like it’s the only sugar high you need.

I’ll be dancing a hundred footsteps as I reverently play the halo’s mellifluous beat around my head over and over again, but I shall never get tired of laughing and listening, and the glow never fades, the glow never coalesces into a darker retrospect of aspirations and bad habits, the glow is etched at the very back of my confounded head and if I close my eyes and wish a little softer, I can see pastel whispers floating and resonating behind my dreams, smiling quietly as it tells me fairy stories about twill reveries and acrylic oneirism.

Will you tell me that much? Will you beg in blazing yellow and speak in purple hand grenades, waking up again when the water parks detonate and soothing water splashes everywhere? This is not my gloomy lullaby meant to be kept under hushed tones and clandestine affinities, buried under the bones of ‘92, rather it is an everlasting caprice that is meant to be jubilantly shouted from the rooftops, until the nightingales and mynas and bluejays and hummingbirds mimic the colours in my eyes and echoes back a chromatic rainbow to be chased.

Am I not making any sense, or is the semblance of my self-optimistic throes withdrawing like violent ocean waves? It is not their fault, and it certainly isn’t mine. It’s yours. It’s all yours. This nonsensical tirade making me backlash the usual defamation that is my wretched soul, making me passionate for what used to be desert sand and black light, now efflorescent flowerbeds and ultraviolet ecstasy, making me smile and laugh childishly at the most fickle of things like a madman staring limerently into the cornflower moon. You let a playful cyclone into my bedroom while I was sleeping, and it ravaged my closet and spun me all the way to your window until I was sickly dizzy, and you held your hand out to steady me and pulled me in, winking cheekily at the cyclone and returning its breezy grin before waving it goodbye.

Now that I’m here, will you promise to keep me? Airplane conversations and clustered entertainment isn’t enough to leave me amused. Are you laughing at my sadness yet? Are you performing odes along to me mournfully singing about the underhanded depression that makes me mad all the time and fucks my worried flurried mind up when the night is young and makes me go down the long road home? I’m a car crash that you can’t ever look away from, and I can’t ever look away from you. But don’t follow me to the site of the wreck. If your favourite set of stairs is the one up to my room, piece together the trail of love notes I left in the kitchen that say it all, and when you find me, I won’t ever have to let you go up. Let’s be lucky people, you and me.

Amid tantrums and crybabies, you’re nothing but rare. I may not be a warrior and you may think I’m the worst, but I know I don’t have to sleep alone again. So won’t you stay awake, stay awake for me? If you’re singing about la-la-la-love, my tune is more to the beat of a la-la-la-lobotomy. You’re my yellow lovely jealousy, in natural blue and viridian green memories, I’m losing my mood in a late night phone call, shading everything else from silver to pink to hiding under porches and craving territorial phantasms, it doesn’t matter. My common sense is powerless when you speak, and I’m not royal but I’m stupid for you, and 11:11 can go away because I don’t wish for anything else. I’m tired. You’re tired. Let’s be tired together. It’s more fun that way, don’t you think?

I have gloomy clouds over my eyes, and only you can ever take that away from me.


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Rumours and Hearsay From Astronomy

“It wasn’t her who broke the stars.”


But she felt guilty all the same

As she stared at the dull midnight sky

Scattered with shards of light that hurt

In astral twinges and lunar fringes

When it hits her unblinking eyes


“It was him who fixed the horizon.”


But he didn’t feel responsible at all

He was merely there by coincidence

When it began to have mended itself

Coalescing into incandescent dawn

And yet he couldn’t say anything


“There’s this girl who locked the moon into the nebulae…

…and that boy painted the firmament rather ebulliently.”


Such mere rumours that the bored planets

Whispered clandestine amongst themselves

Altering details and chasing phantasmagoria

As the supernova truth shrank into a black hole

And sucked the boy and the girl in its dark void.


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i was wrong to think

dear, that the lights would follow you

back home, where i sleep alone

with an extinguished lamp


perhaps you were too prudent

and needn’t dare to waste the stars

on such fickle promenades


or perhaps i wasn’t worth the weight

of a galaxy where you exist


or perhaps the infinite nights were too much a burden for you


but whatever the curious reason

i still stand solitary under a dismal sky

and you’re still kissing the sunlight

as the moon falls under the endless well

weeping grievously for its lost love


and my heart wouldn’t be forgiven

for all the scars it left on yours


but i hold starlight within my eyes

ones you shall never touch nor extinguish

like the cold lamp smouldering by my bedside


for i was mistaken to think, dear

that you were the only source of luminescence.


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counting stars and other mayhem

“Stars awake
But we can’t see them out
So why pretend?”


come count the stars with me

for i am far too afraid to see

how much darkness there is

drinking in light on a chalice


reflect the moon in your eyes

like the final breath of paradise

i’ll never be able to take another

so i hold it in like i’m underwater


conjure another whimsical dream

where everything is more than it seems

and black is white, and grey is none

i’ll be falling west like the tenebrous sun


so come and count the stars with me

i wouldn’t be afraid anymore once i see

that in the consuming darkness, there is

a star glowing next to me, bathing me in universes.


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Seasons in Retrograde

Come at me with everything you’ve got
Burst into flames, s
cream in the dark
I’m gonna light up this place
And die in beautiful stars tonight…


They said it wouldn’t be easy

And being homesick is better than being alone

As the moon burst into flames

I ended up igniting under my coalescing bones


Throw me behind the darkness

And I’ll learn to breathe without the light

As the blade swings closer to me

Love, I’ll hold it back for you, and I’ll fight


I’m dizzy from wreaking all this havoc

Sober as the ashes melted in my numbing lips

Counting seconds until these stars drop

I’ll catch them like a nightmare, take and keep


Because everything looks even more beautiful

When I’m submerged a thousand feet deep in waters

And the undersea glow is a vicious accentuation

To those pale azure eyes that speak of blank aspiration


For they won’t come to take you back

And being homesick is better than being alone

As the midnight sun froze into winter

I ended up embracing the perennial cold for my own.


(What do you do when you’re out of time?)
(Where do you go when they’re right outside?)
(And how do you scream when there’s no one left around?)
I’m gonna light up this place (No one left around?)
And I will be the only light, I’ll be the only light.


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losing the moon

i sold the moon

to the saturn

tired of waiting

for it to turn

but when nights

lost their glow

i was quite sad to

see the moon go.


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