Tag Archives: sweet

sweetheart

the thought

of your embrace

is like being

spun and wrapped

around plumes

of sugar caramel

soft candy floss

for the dream is

sweeter with

each taste, but a

residual toothache

leaves my dizzy

heart feeling

cloyingly cross.

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spotted scarlet

cherry apple

ice cream soda

vinyl diner wall

of spotted scarlet

a funny fanciful

ditty on a poppy

nickel jukebox

for another set

bass rhythms

in spotted scarlet

whirl me again

my darling pet

a soft rosy breeze

a dandelion kiss

raspberry love

don’t go away yet

disneyland ears

of melted hearts

beyond infinity

you won’t forget

to the lips of a

spotted scarlet boy

golden sleeves

that i won’t regret.

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hell sweet hell

you make

home

feel like

hell

and make

hell

feel like

home.

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3 a.m. cake and day-old coffee

I can’t afford the kind of love you sell
But I can’t afford to ever watch you leave
Won’t you come and put your sugar on my tongue
You’ve got your spell on me…

~*~

i would pretend

that it’s to mask

the bitterness

and overpower

it with even more

bitter grounds,

or to dislodge

the hard lumps

forming in my

drying throat,

but i’m not that

deluded or fucking

melodramatic—

or maybe i am.

the cloudy creams

of ivory frosting

melts with a touch

of tawny coffee,

perspectivism

and disillusions

blending madly

as i sit there,

stuffing my rictus

with pastries in

the darkness, like

a total gluttonous

shameless piece

of poison pie.

i am disgusting;

but i’m merely

enjoying crumbs

and leftovers of

my ant-eaten sanity,

trying to kill time

and soured anxiety

with decadent sugar

and innocent tongues,

all while attempting

to ignore the fact

that the immense

sweetness makes me

want to throw up.

and i indulge in the last

few poignant pieces

of a humbled life,

before this cold cake

and day-old coffee

becomes my final meal.

~*~

I’m the only one who knows
The secret places that the light don’t show
(The light don’t show) You know…

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Purple Rain and Sky-Blue Candy Floss

I never meant to cause you any sorrow
I never meant to cause you any pain
I only wanted one time to see you laughing
I only want to see you laughing in the purple rain…

~*~

solitary notions

and a dazed memory

childish daydream

of a black sheep

i’m drowning

trying to find the

bullets in weekday rain

singing delicately

about a toothache melody

shivering blue lilies

hiding from ocean mist

pennies spent

in mossy wishing wells

and another nickel

for a cloudy carnival snapshot

and heaven’s sky melts

in my bruised lips

cool water droplets aching

for a taste of sweet

pastel drenches darkness

and i pass out from the cold

as eastern skylines end

a monday requiem.

~*~

Purple rain, purple rain
I only want to see you
Underneath the purple rain…

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5:48 a.m. downpour

Believe in me, I’m sad and blue
Left with nothing but a picture
Third or fourth weekend in June
December seems to come too soon…

~*~

the rain comes parading

like an old friend comes to visit

in torrents of cool greetings

and sweet altruistic mornings

.

the rain is contented jubilance

like yellow smiley faces pleased

on a blue patterned umbrella

entrancing me with pure peace

.

yet the rain never stays for long

like the fleeting kiss of an autumn leaf

perhaps that’s why i cherish it more

whenever it arrives and leaves.

~*~

Quilted in our hands
And keeping you tucked in too deep
Struck in the shot of two
Twenty-four hours in June
Will you wait until tomorrow?

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Eye Candy

your brown sugar eyes

and glances that tasted

of soft candy and vanilla

lifted away the gravity

and it spun candy floss

in shades of pastel clouds

within a heart that was

as bitterly grey as can be.

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Lemonade, Licorice

Lemonade, licorice

Make me a promise

Of stars and sunlight

And neverland night

.

Lemonade, licorice

Make me a promise

Of candy and kisses

And maiden misses

.

Lemonade, licorice

Make me a promise

In daisies and decay

And cloud-floss clay

.

Lemonade, licorice

Make me a promise

For twists and tears

And floral-blue fear

.

Lemonade, licorice

Make me a promise

In bittersweet taste

May we never fade.

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Wild One

It’s been a year, kid.

I don’t have to constantly check up on you anymore, and be paranoid whether you are still breathing as you slumber, unknowing, naive, innocence in its most delicate form. I can only count your heartbeats, slow and steadily warm, whispering reassurances to me, making me believe still in a transient hope on a world so lost and pitifully dark. All the nights I’ve had to give up, interrupted sleep I’ve had to bide my tired mind by, the erstwhile activities and further indulgences I’ve had to forego to help in taking care of you, the stress, the weeping, the spewed bodily fluids, the horrid diapers, the sacrifices ventured and risks undertaken, everything and nothing all at once…I suppose it was all worth it in the end.

You’re still here, after all, breathing, laughing, crying. Living. One year in. It’s crazy to think just how much has changed, how everything has been elicited by insignificance, how everything slows down yet speeds up at the same time, nerves racing clockwork ticks, how much has changed, how far you have grown. It only feels like a trembling fingertip away when you were a newborn infant delivered from the hospital, and, lying there, ensconced in white silken sheets and resting with umber eyes wide shut, I saw a part of the universe that was apt with the stars in the sky. I basked in the warmth of someone who doesn’t have to be arrogant and jaded like the rest of the heartless horizons, a soul, that was a diamond moon, uncarved, pristine, an enigma. An incandescent light that catches the sparkle in every worthwhile heart. I left the room dazed that day, with ink all over my hands, holding a crumpled piece of paper, unsure of my own senses, pensive and ocean-deep.

Admittedly, I’m not the best babysitter. Sometimes I’m clumsy and end up panicking amid bloodstains and scarlet bumps. Sometimes I get vexed and irritated by your inability to act and your constant incessant shrieking, for heaven knows what reason. Sometimes I snap at you for your tantrums and for the things I know are not under your control. Most of the time I don’t know what the hell I’m even doing when I hold you. I know I’m a child-hating misanthrope that doesn’t take any shit from any other snot-nosed bratty brat that dare crosses my path, and I should be a choking hazard, kept fifty miles away from any person under 5 years old. But you are the exception.

Your shrieking laughter trumps all the crying and wailing I’ve endured from you. Your adorable cooing and chubby tottering alike, the fact that I was there for your initial steps, your first word (“Wa-ta.”), the numerous milestones that can’t be replaced by a million million-dollar paintings. The jubilance and uplift your cloudy childish curiosity banishes my demons temporarily and ties my emotions to a raspberry red balloon, sends me shimmering against your diamond moon, providing me an ephemeral glow, enough to get me though the day. You make me this incredibly maudlin and histrionic, hell, not everyone has the ability to do such a thing. And yes, I may have lost my room when you arrived, true enough, but I found a home in you.

To my sister’s chubby little child, stay wild and have fun, not only in your jungle themed party (which somehow has a clown?), but in this jungle of a life as well. True enough that your untainted whims may not last forever, but the memories remain like butterflies in my tongue, fluttering, tinting my lips with chromatic stained glass artworks, tasting of fairy dust and sweet sugary candy and an indistinguishable distinct bitter undertone, a hueful transfer with every cuddle and pinch and peck. You’ve got no reason to be sad, you need no reason to be happy, which is why you’re smiling all the time. You’ve got many people who love you unconditionally, so beat your chest and swing on the vines, you’ve got a lot to roar about. Don’t grow up too soon now. You deserve that much, at least.

Happy birthday, Gianni-ya.

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6:00 AM.

Faint incandescence of blue

Against the blurry windows

The sunrise junes yet accrue

On the startled horizon glow

Watercolour brushes of blue

Up starry ceilings they show

Sweet breeze of hope, it flew

Through the trees, they blow.

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