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Born Apr 2015
My heart has grown more weak
my thoughts more sick
my existence  jinxed
my path darker and vague

Just let me speak
maybe I'll find some peace
in words that are meant to be phenomenon
and echoes the aches that are just too incredible

like a Cinderella story
once upon a time I went through nasty and fought it
courageous
optimistic, enthusiastic and more I was labelled

now I just crawl back to that hole
totally lost
succumbed to the darkness that feeds on me
my dismay on reply

*Will I ever find hope or just settle for a rope
Born Apr 2015
Ever thought what's like to lose the rest of your life in a second
in a blink of an eye

Your twelve year old relationship gone with the wind
your wife is now somebody's wife,happily married for 5years

Your eleven year old kid
now a fully 'bass' teenager

your grandma
she's been dead for almost a decade

how could you know any of this
you couldn't
you just blinked and its ten years later

Your not part of present at all
you're the past
you've always been the past
  Apr 2015 Born
irinia
“A woman needs to find a way of creating boundaries that is not a violation of her instinctual feeling of wholeness.”*

daring like a ballerina
simple as a peach orchard
she loves me like a daughter
from the height of wonder
I look at her with innocence
like a mother
I teach her how to stare in the sun
to see flowers of light
the fragility of colours
and how stories happen in the dark
the hardest part is letting go of knowing
reinventing the smile
words stand there not pretending
tangible, waiting to be broken
here is everything letter by letter

cruel and demanding
like a song, like a perfume in autumn
“I lend you my fairies,
you lend me your arms”
silk embraces
uncracked choices
I follow her into laughter
She follows me into tenderness
little exchanges, attunement, failures
when to draw a line
when to plunge into circles
store fat miracles
a grasshopper is coming in
propelled by the infinite desire

“you don’t have wrinkles, mama”,
she laughs
a bird came to nest in your heart,
don’t frown, mama
let’s yell to scare baubau
"should I make it yellow?"

every day she’s mapping my honesty
giving me her burden of childhood
and we found ourselves raw and dreaming
in between hearts
Born Apr 2015
I've had bumps and commas while searching for an apple
An apple for my hollowed  heart
a smile to cover my despair

Like a wish you appeared
her beauty not seen in millenniums
her laughter is like a soothing tone that creeps peace in me

It feels like the sun is gonna shine here forever
if this is a dream ,i don't wanna forever wake up
if this is an illusion,I don't forever need reality

This ain't a fairy story
am not a fairy tale
  Apr 2015 Born
i am miss brightside
He’s no musician.
He doesn't make melodies through violin and guitar strings.
Yet he composed, haunting ballads in dramatic tempos,
Rhyming every lyric,
Harmonizing, making it dance in a musical euphony.

He’s no seamster.
Yet he cuts and he traces,
plain words and printed phrases;
Then he sews and he weaves it skilfully,
into a lovely concrete poetry.

He’s no painter.
He just has a palette of pigmented letters,
splashing colorful lines on his blank canvass.
A blast of contained evocative memories,
Streaking and shading mixtures of kaleidoscopic imagery.

He’s no storyteller.
Yet from him, I heard the most romantic tales-
One, of the moon and its lover sea.
Reciprocating shy glances, whispering I love you’s,
while kissing behind the sprawling mountains.
Though the dawn will come, they do not fear.
For after the majestic tribal sun leaves his stage,
There’ll the lovers be once again reunited.

He's no poet.**
Yet he writes--
stanzas and verses.
And oh! it revives,
every strand of emotion,
every sense of intuition,
Inside me.
A lyrical perception,
Sheer perfection,
Arousing perpetual reactions,
From me.
I am not good at this. I just want to express my pure gratitude, appreciation and awe for you.

"I am no poet. Never thought of myself as one. Just a guy dabbling clumsily in words"
Yet even, everything you do amaze me.


Thank you all wonderful people on Hello Poetry. I just realized this moment that this poem was featured as Daily poem yesterday.  I have never imagined any of my work will be posted as daily. Thank you all for the hearts, re-post,share, comments and messages. You really made my heart and soul so happy. :)
And most of all, thanks to the man who inspire me to write this one. :)
(04.14.2015)
Born Mar 2015
Am growing feeble and older
am history,a forgotten sentence
a word covered in dust
a prose stuck in the mud
a rhyme waiting to flow

I've had enough of your blows
"I was once a great writer" but you ain't anymore
I might spit words that will get you choked
the days of future past belongs to the old


You are a fool young linguist
you strive for dust,
believing it's gold
quench your thirst,
but don't live life fast
you might turn into rust

hey
am still a toddler
who breaks hearts
and still fills much stronger


breaks hearts!
you've been waiting for months,
weeks and centuries
to be told I love you
but as for me
for every word i wrote
they fell in love
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