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Jun 2018 · 13.8k
Onanism
Bato sa balat,

Hayaan **** lumapat ang ‘yong kahinaan sa mahinahong baldosa

Payagang lamig ay yumanig sa bawat panig ng iyong katawan

Mula sa kalamlaman ng iyong talampakan hanggang umabot sa–

Pagitan ng iyong mga hita, paakyat sa kalamnan, patungo sa dibdib

Hanggang maramdaman nginig na dala ng iyong pag-iisa.



Ipagpaliban mo muna ang mundo

Ilaw sa paningin,

Hayaan **** angkinin ka ng daang-daang mukhang nasasalamin sa bawat tisa

Tignan ang iyong mga nakikita, ikaw ngayon ay nakakahon sa bato–

At mga multo na iisa lang ang mga mukha’t hinaing

Payagang ika’y ariin ng kanilang mga nanlilisik na titig,

Huminga ng malalim at iyong sabihing

Ginusto mo ang linggatong na ‘to

Mata sa dutsa,

Tumingala hanggang kadahilanan ay magunita

Ang iyong katwiran kung bakit pinili mo ang kapangahasan

Hamakin ang sarili’t magnilay-nilay sa nagbabadyang kasalanan

‘Di hamak naman na mas ikakasaya mo ang pait–

Ng paglalapastangan sa sarili nang ilang makamundong saglit

Pagbigayang mabasa ang sarili



Silakbo sa kawalan,

Ipikit ang mga mata’t pakiramdaman ang daloy ng tubig sa’yong balat

Ipaanod sa agos ang haplos ng pighati’t pagtitimpi

Sa mahigpit na bisig ng isang mapanghusgang mundo

Tikman ang hagod ng malamig na pelus sa iyong mga labi

Sumidhi sana ang pagdanak ng init ng pagnanasa sa bawat bena

Mahalin mo ang iyong pagkatao

Makipagtalik sa sarili,

Ibigin **** maibigan ang pagiging makamundo’t makasalanan

Ibaling ang pansin sa pagpapalabas ng himutok

Muling sabihin na hindi makasarili ang pagnanasa sa sarili’t

Ulit-ulitin ang pagbaluktot ng diwa’t isipan hanggang ito’y tumatak,

Hanggang sa mabulalas mo ang iyong mga suliranin

At matapos ang lahat ng iyon hindi mo maiiwasan–



Pagkamuhi sa sarili.
Aug 2017 · 2.1k
Shirley
Ang matinis na tinig ng isang libong nagkakalampagang bakal na maninipis ang tumili mula sa gilid ng 'yong ulunan,
Umaga na naman.
Mauuna ang pagbangon mo mula sa kama kaisa sa pagmulat ng iyong mga mata't pag-gising ng iyong diwang pagal sa 'di maalalang panaginip.
Ang hangin ay umihip--
Mula sa bintanang kumakaway gamit ang mga kurtinang bughaw sa paglisan ng gabi sa pagkamusta ng masalimuot na umaga.

Pumipihit na naman ang oras.

Pinanonood mo ang pagputok ng bawat bulang nabubuo mula sa pag-ugong ng kaldero buhat ng initsigan,
Bagay na 'yong kinaiinggitan.
Ang natatanging paraan para mapainit mo iyong umaga ay ang paglaklak ng kapeng 'sing pait ng pagiisa.
Tapos maliligo ka,
Pipihitin mo ang gripo para bumungad sa'yo ang nagyeyelong tubig na kumikitil sa 'yong kakayanan makaramdam.

Sana kumukulo rin yung tubig.

Pinanonood mo ang pagdating at paglaho ng mga pangitain ng isang 'di makatarungang siyudad ng maralita't dukha.
Paano pa nila nagagawang ngumiti?
Ika'y naririndi sa malalim na pag-ungol ng mga sasakyang minamaneho ng mga diwang humihiyaw sa pagkakakulong,
Sa pagkaubos ng oras.
Sinusulit mo ang ilang saglit na ang tanging suliraning iyong sinusumpa ay ang pagkahuli sa klase't mga responsibilidad.

Pagkakataon na naman ng buwan.

Huminga ka ng malalim bago mo nilapat ang 'yong palad na 'sing gaspang ng gasgas na pinto ng iyong bahay,
At dahan-dahan mo itong tinulak.
Nilanghap mo ang kulob na amoy ng hanging 'di magimbala sa segundong umapak ka sa loob ng yung 'di maturing na tahanan,
Isinara mo ang pintuan.
Kasabay nito ang pagsara mo ng iyong sarili sa buong mundong tanging inaalala lamang ang kanilang mga sarili.

Bumuhos ang iyong mga luha.

Ang iyong katawan ay nanginginig, ang isip ay nangingimbal at ika'y nangingimi sa kawalan ng katotohanan--
Ng 'yong pagkatao.
Maririnig **** umuugong ang iyong bulsa't napagtantong may nangangailangang marinig ang iyong boses,
Tumatawag si Mikoy.
Sa pag-sambit niya ng iyong pangalan ay napawi ang bumubagyong luha't naglaho ang unos ng 'di maintindihang lungkot.

Sa pagkakataong iyon, saka mo lang sinabing nakauwi ka na.
Check out more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Jun 2017 · 574
From Setanta
If I **** the dog and change my name,
will you tell me you'll wait?
If I ask for courtship and marriage,
your hand, will you give?
If I seek more strength, go far away,
will you tell me you'll stay?
If I long for end on some royal stone,
for me, will you live?

If I ask you to forget me, will you?

Because I can't.
This is for the love of my life, Emer.

Read more of my works on Tumblr: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Mar 2017 · 660
The Painted Lady
I miss the Painted Lady
The way she strides on top of murky depths
Making it pristine like rain down crystal beams
Like a white tipped brush that sweeps one with grace

The way she erotically leaps from ripple to ripple
With her gestures like man in amphitheatres
I, longing for when she dove for blackness say
I miss the Painted Lady.
I wrote this March 13, 2016. I was inspired by one of my favorite episodes from Avatar: The Last Airbender. Check out more of my works at: www.brixartanart.tumblr.com
Mar 2017 · 1.4k
It Is Quite Simple Really
A friend of mine asks,
“Why do you only ever write about romance lately?”

Well, the answer is quite simple, really. It is because I have tasted it.

I tasted it when my eyes first drank the light from his grace when he stood tall above me
His saturnine windows called out to me behind flesh curtains whenever he spoke, ever asking me to join him in his ecstasy
He, from a distance, darted towards me and pressed our sides together—letting myself melt in the velveteen touch of fabric skin
There was a shower of momentary light that night but only his radiance did I bask in.

I tasted it in the heart of the stone city where usurpers of old stood on polished stone
The Bulwark’s adobe reach embraced our reverie as memories from sleep stories become reality
He, in the confines of that venerable fortress, made me vulnerable for I was secure in his arms
His fingers are in between my own like woven mithril unbreakable lest he broke its bond himself
It is in this kingdom of carven stone and handmade walls that he sang of ardor with a dragon’s petrifying gaze.

I tasted it in yuletide storms where men and women waged war with happiness and grief
When the armies of pain and suffering fell at our clasped hands and cheeks red from amorous verve you said you were to journey home
But you did not let go of my grasp
With me you remained and in your arms I stayed
As the bitter winds of bigoted mouths blew, as the fire from damnation is declared by self-righteous souls, we stood fast in the storm.

I tasted it when he said our love he could no longer endure
There we sat, on a tarnished vehicle, as the last of our love gave into rust
What is frightening to me peeked from his saturnine eyes and he closed his curtains shut for the downpour of despondency was to come
We flooded our façades and the rivers quaked our emotional integrity
He held my hand for one final chance before we ripped our wrappings forever apart and he kissed me tender
Our lips made love—like the first they ever met in weathered heat—for the last time.

I tasted it when I told him “Just do so, when your appetite roars to love me again,” and until now I am waiting.

So, why do I ever only write about romance lately?

Well, the reason is quite complicated, really. But–but it is because I’ve tasted it.
For my muse, Emer. I ever hoping you'll find your way back to me.

Read more of my works on Tumblr: www.brixartanart.tumblr.com
Feb 2017 · 739
Not To Return,
Are shooting stars
angels that came too close,

f
    e
      l
        l

for loving the Earth
much?
Fourteen word poetry challenge by the Loudmouth Collective.

Check more of my works on Tumblr: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Feb 2017 · 8.5k
Pumikit
Pumikit
Lasapin ang bawat saglit na lumalangitngit ang pawis sa inyong balat na magkadikit.
Huwag niyong ipagkait sa apat na sulok ng silid ang kanilang karapatan masilayan ang inyong pagmamahalang saglit

Igapang mo ang iyong mga nananabik na daliri sa pambalot ng kanyang laman,
Sa bawat segundong inuudyok at kinikililiti ang iyong kasiping
isiping siya ay isang anghel na ipinadala ng diyos ng dilim ng silid

Manampalataya
Manalangin na ang sandaling maglapat ang iyong labi sa kanyang katawan ay pang-matagalan
Na ang pagsamba mo sa kanyang katawan ay magiging makatarungan

Iyong lubusin ang pag-halo ng laway at pawis
Tumingin sa pagkinang ng namumuong asing itinuturing **** bituin
dahil sa bawat paglamas ng inyong dila sa isa't-isa, dahil sa pagdurugo ng labi, dahil sa panggigil at kagutuman at libog ng katawan at isipan
Hangga't siya'y nagugutom at uhaw sa maling pagmamahalan–

Kumapit
Hayaan ang sarili maipit sa kanyang bisig sa tuwing pipilipitin niya ang iyong isip
gamit-gamit ang kanyang mga matang nanlilisik sa pagnanasa at tamis na kay pait

Ang kanyang mga mata na nagpapakita ng kaluluwa na umiiyak dahil hindi kayo para sa isa't-isa
Iyong nahihinuha na pareho lang kayong dalawa, parehong kumakapit sa ideya na ang pakikipagkantutan ay paraan para mahanap ang pag-ibig na bumabalot sa mundo't umaakap

Umakap
Panghawakan ang alapaap at huwag kang kukurap para masilayaan ang pamumuo ng mga ulap sa kanyang mga mata,
Ang pagbaha ng inyong mga kalooban dahil sa pagragasa ng inyong kahayukan

Ngunit wag kang magpahinga.
Hayaan mo siya ang mauna sa pagpapahinga,
Ito ay senyalis ng pagkapagod at pagsuko sa kasiyahan na inyong tinatamasa
Masasabi **** masalimuot ang karanasan na ito kahit nilubos mo ang pagkakataon na kayo ay nag-indakan sa bawat sulok ng silid na madilim
na sa pagtapos wala na kayong ibang magawa kung hindi–

Huminga
Huminga ng malalalim bago umalpas ang inyong kamunduang pangsandalian
At sa pagwaglit ng iyong hanging ibinuga, tanggapin sa sarili na libog lang ang inyong nadama
Check out more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Dec 2016 · 450
Spectacle
Stand still...
Feel as if the silence is defeaning your ears—
Hear the fear beating within your chest—
Think of it as a test, this twenty-story height
Fright is sublime as the dark sky is as black as  daylight is bright
Yet at the same time inside, you fight
Because tonight eternal punishment is your delight

Spread your arms...
The warmth of the cold city wind is home—
Alone is no longer a word to describe yourself—
Help is not a number to be dialed on a phone
Help is the couple hundred feet, your distance from below
Your adrenaline rush as your feet push concrete robust
Memories flush as cold wind brush your skin
Pushing the thoughts of hard concrete replacing satin wind

Peripheral visions alert you
The sound of trickling sparks are familiar too
Ecstatic spirits embark on a journey to
The center of their world becomes those sparks in a blast
A vast symphony from an ear bleeding band
Yet this show is never bland unlike this man
Standing on top of a building ready to fall face flat on pavement or that conveniently parked red van

You wonder how you got this far.
You wonder how you got this low.
You wonder what it's like when your already six feet below.
Maybe, I guess so, you just want to be the star in your own show
Because you couldn't do it in life 'cause they ignored you the most
So you got provoked
They invoked suicide in your mind like a card shark owing the mob a loan

Alone you see the lights start moving
Spiralling sky high astonishing eyes on the ground
The visual equivalent of an angry concerto
Hitherto, you've been standing amazed
On how everyone's in a daze with lights that quickly fade
It made you think that no one would notice what you're about to do
So you step a little closer to the edge in front of you.

You never did much in life, for them not much,
Never even touched the life of at least one person you know
This life is ending on the sour note at the end of show
I let myself freefall...
Let mother earth pull me towards her cruel embrace
Falling, I still chase for limelight's given grace
Crestfallen, I face the skies hoping I go to heaven after my grave
Yes, an appalling fate
Self-inflicted with distaste
As I crash on that red van I saw that people paced,
raced towards my body...
I smiled, because before everything faded everyone's attention was on me.
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Oct 2016 · 661
Reminiscent
I miss the days euphoric
The wonderful tunes of music that made me frolic
The times when love was a tonic drink that made me a stoic alcoholic.

But life is tragic enough to render anyone a philophobic;
making them manically depressive,
making humor esoteric,
making them despise anyone
whom to love

was ecstatic.
This was written October 26, 2014.

Check out more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Oct 2016 · 701
Keep It Together
Do you know hard it is
To fall face first, stand up,
And show off that toothed grin
To disguise the loosening cluster of bones?

Ivory on ivory,
White horse on white horse
Clenched tightly
While you also struggle to keep
Your elastic lips from snapping
In trying to keep your incisors from falling.

But then there's an ache
On the left hemisphere
Of your itching face
And when you realize what it is
You shut off your vision
With the worn down excuse:

You close your eyes when you smile

But that is also to stop yourself
from flooding your face,
putting weight on that strip of muscle
That prevents your teeth from falling out of place.
Check out more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Sep 2016 · 385
Shout!
Gravelly and coarse
is my strained voice.
I do not know when
it became this tense,
it is either when you
forced me to shout
your beautiful name
or when you left me
forcing tears to drop
on my wrinkled face.
But I am sure of one
thing. I will continue
shouting 'til my voice
reaches your frozen,
non-beating heart.
Check out more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Sep 2016 · 807
Fan Fiction
If you can't imagine the person you're in a relationship with—wearing nothing but old house clothes at 4 in the morning, stirring a mug of 3in1 coffee, as you kiss them on the shoulder while hugging them from behind—five years from now… I hope someday you do.

And when that day comes, you take that mug away from their hands. I want you to entwine your fingers with theirs. I want you to hum the most romantic song you could think of and start dancing. I want you to look at them and tell them "I love you."

I need you to *love.
Check out more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Aug 2016 · 571
From Suns to Blackholes
He
    l    i
                 u
        m,

you were and I was

              hy d r  o   g    e     n,

and together we
shone like
the

stars

The heat we made
whenever
we made contact and love

bre…
…athes

life to those who
bare witness
to
our
romance

But when,
when you left
me
in the center of this collapsing
b o
            n
d

as you said you were
all spent and
done

I caved in
and tried to swallow
every ray of

~light~

we shed

d e s p e r a t e l y clinging
to what
was once

*ours.
Check out more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Aug 2016 · 1.2k
Padayon
I won't be able to move forward
as long as you are there…

I'll continue
—to hurt myself
with high hopes that you'll save me,
as you did when we first shared stares,
as discourse from unruly mouths turn
into white noise and muffled voices
around us—
and I will smile through it all

I would never want to leave 'here'
as long as you are there…

I'll continue
—to hurt myself
using Edward's words in hushed tones,
the same melody you sang in little Rome
about how I reminded you of a place
that you've never been to except
in song—
and I'll endure everything to come

I won't be able to love another
as long as you are there…

I'll continue
—to hurt myself
tenfold, from that time when you
viciously undressed my heart bare
stripping it off of your words that blanketed
it with crimson passion leaving
it dull—
and I will keep you in memory

As long as you are there
I will love…

no one other than you.
I will never stop loving you, Emer.

Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Aug 2016 · 712
Man of God
My heart breaks at the sight of your face
A hearth's burning stake pierced through my body
Realizing that it was from your mouth it did originate
I let the stake's embers burn and eat me wholly.
For it is my happiness to just see and not own your grace.
You're the angel that smote my entire existence
Because you represent the wrath of God on people like me.
I wrote this a year ago (August 9 2015) and only got to share it now.

Check out more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Jul 2016 · 706
Sore
Crystal windows rest,
Glistening at the faintest of lights
Its ivory body filled with luster and glints of awe
Pure, neither tainted nor cracked.
Iris is at an ocher hue with umber undertones,
A mandala etched by nature on polished stone
Centering a void that engulfs
All that gaze upon the ascetic purity it holds

"Its fairness is a lie," cried the Right eye.

Ruby stone fractured,
Crumbling at the gentlest blow of wind
Its crimson dyed sheen is broken beyond repair
Bloodshot, both pained and aggrieved.
Iris is jet as the night that is starless,
Singularity of corruption and indignation made stone
At one with the entropy
Emanating from its core, its truth breaking away

"Says you who bathes in rusted scarlet!" shouts the Left.

But both window to the patriotic soul fail to see
That their visions made one is what's needed
In steering society towards a panoramic view of tomorrow.
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Jul 2016 · 4.1k
Araw-Araw
Lunes

Siya ay tatlong-daang talampakan mula sa aking kinatatayuan
Sa kanyang pinaroroonan ako ay patungo
Sa dulo ng pasilyong ito siya'y taimtim na naghihintay
Sinuway ko ang tawag ng kahayokan ng damdamin
At hindi kumatok nang madatnan ang pintuan ng kanyang silid
"Hahayaan ko na lang siyang umidlip." sambit sa sarili

Martes

Siya, isang panibagong habol ng paningin, sumenyas
May ngiti siyang ipinakita bago dumiretso sa kasilyas
Sa silong ng eskuwelahan kung saan ako nag-aaral
Ako'y sumunod sa utos ng aking katigangan
Sumunod sa estrangherong may kislap sa kanyang ngiti
Ngunit dali-dali akong umalis nang mga mata ko'y nanlisik

Miyerkules

Ako ay nakaupo sa dulo ng bus, iniwan ng mga pasaherong inip
Napaisip at nag-iisip na bumaba na ngunit
May sumakay na lalaking marilag at ako'y nabihag
Hindi ko naiwasang hindi tumitig habang siya'y nakangisi
At sa kanyang pagtabi at mag-dikit ang mga biyas namin
Agarang tinawag ko ang kundoktor at pinahinto ang sasakyan

Huwebes

Mag-isa sa aking silid, nakahilata sa kama, Luna sa aking mukha
Ang diwa ay naglalakbay at may hinahabol na alaala
Bigla kong naalala may mensahe sa aking selepono
Isang hubad na larawan ng kausap ko nang wala pang limang araw
Nandilat ang aking mga mata at nagising ang aking diwa
Sa kalakhang kanyang ipinakita na aking di naman gaanong pinansin

Biyernes

Ikaw ay aking muling nasulyapan sa isang kainan
Malapit sa iyong tinitirhan, may kausap sa iyo'y nakikipagtitigan
O sa imahinasyon ko lang iyon?
Ngunit hindi ko maiaalis sa puso ko ang masindak,
Manlumo, malumbay na kaya **** mabuhay na wala
Ang init ng mga balat nating nagtatagpo.

Oh Diyos ko,

Ako'y pagbigyan mo makasama siya kahit isang gabi lang
Isang magdamagang nananaig ang kamunduan
Na maglapat ang aming mga dila
Na masubo ko ang kabuuan niya hanggang mabulunan
Na malasap ang alat ng pawis sa kanyang balat
Na mahila ko ang kanyang buhok sa gigil ng pagkasabik
Na muling takpan niya ang aking bibig, pinipigilan akong umimik

Sabado ng gabi may mensaheng bumungad sa'kin
Kami raw ay mag-hapunan at kumain ng pang-himagas hanggang Linggo ng umaga

At sa pagkakataong ito ay pumayag na ako.
Read more of my works on Tumblr: brixartanart.tumbr.com
May 2016 · 688
Profound Bond
"I am yours and you are mine until the day that we both cease to exist."

I cherish these words like how martyrs hold crucifixes close to their hearts
Only separated by a wall of bone and flesh
I keep these words fresh
By reiterating them every morning since you left
Their poetic tone makes me long for your voice,
Your warm breath and your soft caress as we lay in my bed
Chaste, no acts of lasciviousness or mundane carnal lust
It was just us.

Do you remember when we first met,
How your voice that rivalled thunder bellowed as you fell,
How you appeared as a flash of lightning that failed to destroy
For grace ground zero is pure creation and no other choice,
Or how you took the likeness of my form
And as you said to an awestruck me
Using typhoon from your lungs and a canyon deep voice
"I am an angel of the Lord."

Yes, you were an angel
—As the windows to my soul followed the water dripping from brow to knife-edge cheeks
To course through first man's downfall to nestle where collarbones peek
I could not speak for I was transfixed by your androgyny
Or is it just that the symphony of celestial applause silences my throat
And the low heavy notes of thunderous cause muffles all when the Heavens cried for its children lost—
I agreed

You stared at the distance, admiring how your brothers and sisters met ground
As they used natural phenomena as a facade
Like how Rameses decided the last plague in Egypt long ago
Is angel-kind disguised
Ending the lives of a thousand slumbering children at night
But this coming of the Heavenly Host was different
You came here not to deliver seven plagues nor fortnights punishment
You came to know what it's like to be human

Do you remember how I was dumbfounded,
As I, a testament of how flawed a creation humans are, hear this from perfection,
How I witnessed in your eyes Cain's mistake,
How I saw you make your first steps in disobedience
That will lead to a series of consequences that you said you would cherish,
A road of pain, suffering, and anguish
Or how you told me that you long for human emotions
And how you envied the mouth that bit the fruit in eden?

I still remember how I fell in love with you
How you told me that the weatherman on tv was a false prophet
And that he had changed the weather himself
How you told me every being in the universe that became one of your Father's favorite
Showed similarity with Heaven's most wanted
How you, in veil of night, moved from my living room couch
To sleep by my side
To roost on my bed

Every night I held you tightly in a warm embrace
Close to my heart like how a child holds a blanket reminding him of his mother's calming face
At morning jet skies remain as you stretch your raven wings
Gale winds push forth to ******* away,
Bedazzled by gleaming feathers astray
You are a monument to beauty, a greco-roman statue
Obedient to the Maker, chiseled, stone cold, perfect.

Obedient to Him you were,
He called for all of His children, including those who have fallen
To fight a wargame against Hell, Avalon, and places unknown of name and origin
And you, you headed His call
You again summoned a storm to conceal your true form;
Titanic, terrifying, and phantasmagorical with a hundred pallid furnaces etching the surface of your rock like skin
And in that moment I knew I lost you to Him
Because you said "I am an Angel of the Lord, now and forever."

You said those words using typhoon from your lungs and a canyon deep voice
And as you raised your hand
To an act of God approaching fast,
I lost your warmth to skies unrest
Your memory a dead man's switch if I let go it will detonate unstable emotions
I begged you to play me like harp strings because my heart seams to
Unravel, remembering from Earth you did depart
Knowing I could no longer feel your warmth.

And it came to me,
Angels are not the cloud-jumping-perch-on-your-shoulder kind,
They are monstrous warriors
With the Word of God tattooed on their hundred feet bodies
You are soulless automatons built for war yet you still loved me
You told me stories of alternate realities and distant galaxies
Elegies to dying stars and civilizations in jeopardy
But never again can you tell me...

I still remember how an angel came to me in a dream,
Told me you died defending Heaven from the enemy
Told me that your last words were for me:
"I am yours and you are mine until the day that we both cease to exist."
And since angels are soulless they cease to exist when they die
I cried myself dry, regretted the fact I once had an angel in my life
Whose grace filled me with warmth and whose wings comforted my lonely nights

I still remember how I realized I was human
And I, with those cherished words
Can buy myself more time, buy our relationship more time
For me to be yours and for you to be mine
You may have faded into nothingness but I have not
So until I call out to you using my dying breath
Until the last second in my deathbed
Until my soul's eternity in its infinite Heaven...

I am yours and you are mine, as simple as that.
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
May 2016 · 13.6k
Plaza Maestranza
Nilawis ng dilim ang mayorya ng mga ilaw sa kalangitan
Ang kapanglawan ng mga ulap na nagdaan ay nakakapangilabot
Kumikinang ang maliliit na butas sa telang itim na tumatalukbong sa himpapawid
At sa bawat minutong nagdadaan may tila bang may naglalaro sa balabal ng karimlan
Tila may kutsilyong pumupunit sa alapaap para makasilip ang liwanag
Ngunit muling isasara ang tastas na nagawa sa segundong ito'y nagsimulang bumuka

May mga bulalakaw na nagpakita.

Tayong limang nakahilata sa kamang kayumanggi na sinapinan ng damo
Agad-agad tumingala sa pag-asang tayo'y makakahiling sa mga nauupos na bato
Ang saglit na gumuhit ang bulalakaw ay nag-umapaw tayo sa tuwa
Halata ang paniniwala sa pamahiing matutupad ang pangarap kapag humiling ka
Sa isa't kalahating segundo na iyon na nagising ang ating mga diwa
Ang mga daliri ay nakaturo sa nagdaang hulagway na hindi na maibabalik

Sabay-sabay tayong pumikit.

At sa pagbukas ng mga bintana patungo sa ating mga kaluluwa
Ang isa sa atin ay nagreklamo; "Hindi ko nakita!"
At sa kanyang pagsamo sa uniberso na magbigay pa ng pagkakataong humiling
Paghalakhak at malarong panunukso ang nakuha niya mula sa atin
Habang ang mapangilabot na simoy ng hangin ay humaplos sa ating mga katawan
At ang katatawanan ay napalitan ng isang tanong walang kasiguraduhan:

"Kailan kaya ulit mangyayari 'to?"

Na tayo ay magkakasama sa isang pagkakataong
Walang inaalalang pagsalansang ng mundong hindi tayo
Na ang tanging balabal na bumabalot sa ating mga puso ay ang yakap natin sa isa't-isa
Na ang kalinawan ng ating mga isip ay nagiging malaya
Magpakita lagpas pa sa pagkislap sa gilid ng balintataw ng mata
Na kung saan, tayong matatalik na magkaibigan,

Tayo ay masaya.

Sa bawat pilit na pag-alpas natin mula sa bisig ng nakaambang
Mapanglaw na kinabukasan, tayo'y palaging magtatagpo dito
—Hindi ko sinasabing sa plazang ito kung saan ang usok ng sigarilyo ay lumulunod sa baga,
Kung saan ang mga punong nakahilera ay nakahubad at dayupay,
Kung saan lingid ang ating kagustuhan gawing tirahan ang tinalikdang plaza na ito—
Kung hindi, dito! Sa pagkakataong busilak ang tawanan at totoo ang ating pagkakaibigan

Sa huling pagkakataon tumingala tayo.

Lubusin natin ang pagkakataong kinakalmot ng mga anghel ang kalangitan
Magpakasasa tayo sa saglit na pinatotohanan natin ang pamahiin
Na kapag humiling ka sa bumabagsak na bituin ito'y magkakatotoo
Na inuulok natin ang isa't-isa ipikit ang mga mata sa bawat ilaw na gumuguhit
Sa himpapawid na madilim na mamaya ay babalik sa maulap na umaga
At sa nagbabadyang pagtatapos ng pag-ulan ng ilaw at muling pagbukas ng ating mga mata

Hanggang sa huling bulalakaw,

Kaibigan,

**humiling ka.
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
May 2016 · 1.5k
Plaza de Roma
A cardinal traversed within himself
Retrograding, an opposition to time's progressions
Letting its wings cut through memory streams

It notices–

A cold sea breeze
Journeying from dock into the Walled City
Mixing with arid wind and fumes from Manila streets
Twisting and turning sky-high greens
Causing umber to fall, separating themselves from virescent leaves

Familiarity drove it to circle this scene
As the curtains of relativity are pulled back to show it–

A street lamp dims,
Refusing to team with others' gleam
That give the black iron above Charles' skin an auburn sheen
As it keeps on flickering like hints
From an undecided heart, calling out to the man with every whim

Familiarity drove it to land on a tree
Perched on its viridescent sepia shoulders, playing guardian to–

A couple sits
On the rim of the fountain at the king's feet
A hand touches a cheek, a warm caress as their eyes meet
Fitting into each other's gaze
On the dried cascade, dessicated, as the street lamps stay lit

It notices–

As it traversed within himself
Retrograding all of its current progress
Letting his memories cut himself six-deep
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
May 2016 · 3.8k
Turumpo
Pangarap tutuparin nang masabi natin
Ang mundo'y nalibot, hindi makakalimot
Tuloy lang sa pag-ikot
Karamay mo kami sa ginhawa at lungkot
Pagagaanin namin ano mang lumbay na nadulot
Nandito kami palagi, hindi mo mararamdaman ang puot
Walang **** sa sasabihin ng iba, hayaan mo sila
Basta tayo'y magsasaya nang walang kaba
Tuloy lang sa pag-ikot tropa
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
May 2016 · 1.4k
Pastime
Let us sail, hand in hand, off this cliff towards the endless azure
The fresh air, a soft caress, lifts us up towards that circled warmth
I see your light, brighter than the torch above, shines not for me.
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Apr 2016 · 588
If I Was An Angel
If I was an angel
I'd put you in a warm embrace.
My wings will be your shield,
your raincoat,
your cooling breeze,
your warming blanket in a cold winter's night.
But I'm not an angel.
But I'm yours.
For Emer. My love for you will never wither away.

Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Mar 2016 · 605
Provincial
It should be dark.

Ethereality is brought upon by shadows
Comforting shades that beautifully waylay prancing lights
permeating mysticism to arouse the blandest of hearts.
Clustered crowns of effervescent greens scraped the sky
Their lithe fingers clasped, uneasy to divulge light
yet they do so for their trunkless kin at their feet

There should be music.

At dusk the chiming of army throats moan
the deep humming legato of elastic croak to their content
rich baritones with an orchestral blend of alluring notes.
Exoskeletal feet, an angels' choir too quick to play
Their voices, violins in concerto with hissing air
that slither in between the crevices of trees for beauty to play

I should be afraid.

A tiny mouse that shifts beneath dry leaves should scare
Rustling grass dimmed by jet skies fill you with dread
The tapping of leafless hands on rusted roof puts you under duress
Flash lightning mimics the morning in negative filter
The heavy blows of drizzling rain harmoniously mix with discordant wind
Then when it all settles, the beating of your own cardinal is unnerving.

Then I realize, all of which I stated are now in memory

That the stone road that always greeted me is now but dry and dirt
That the music I once heard met a sharp end that made everything else flat
That the movement in the brush no longer shivered my spine
That the birds and beasts will never again come to cheer
That the storms that ravaged my midsummer's night dream
is the same storm that ravaged my youth

And without these childhood memories
I am left unsophisticated, rural
Bare.
Read more of my works on Tumblr: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Mar 2016 · 507
Pagkikimkim
Journeying into deep ends of thoughts silent and unprovoked
     A growing tremor lay in slumber
     Asleep yet its consciousness aware
Wary of predatory emotions that seek to rest beside this truant bare
     Beguiling heat do they propose
     Bestowing dreams of ardor prose
     Beseeching thoughts six deep
Yet their prodding could only rouse it to grow further in its sleep
     Calling out to old man grey
     Clustered with thoughts astray
Journeying into deep ends of thoughts silent and unprovoked.

     Despite its vice grip on normalcy desired
     There is little truth in its solitude
     There is little truth in its cowardice
     Despite all hiding there is little truth in this heart.
Pagkikimkim is a derivative of the Tagalog word 'kimkim' that means “to hide emotions within oneself.”

Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Mar 2016 · 1.3k
Martyr
It is a fallacy we all believe.
As we vehemently exclaim six words
to prove the chastity of our thoughts,
to fill our pride with self-validation,
to ratify our existence with falsehoods.
"The Devil made me do it!"

"The Devil made me do it!"
I bitterly laugh at your blundering gaucherie,
as you lay blame on an eons old transgression,
as you smote the sinnerman flying with flames,
as you called him out for your own actions
impassioned by heresy.

Impassioned by heresy
You sought to relieve yourself from perdition;
brought upon by perjury declared,
brought upon by authenticated truths,
brought upon by the duplicity,
of your favored reverent ideologies.

Of your favored reverent ideologies
which is to laud your skirmish against evil
in order to remove yourself from auburn eternity,
in order to induct you as a citizen of argent fields,
in order to orchestrate contempt towards another?
Is there no truth to you?

Is there no truth to you
now that perfidy imputes your entirety?
as you declaim in front of paradise lost,
as you coerce to regain what is rightfully deprived,
as you throng duress by intoning your delusion:
"The Devil made me do it!"

"The Devil made me do it!"
Its recurrence is maddening to Him
while you, in all your sentience, chose to act unbecoming,
while the celestials perched on your shoulder bawl,
while He that you blame does absolutely nothing.
It is a fallacy we all believe.
Why do we blame the Devil for our own mistakes?

Read more of my works on brixartanart.tumblr.com
Feb 2016 · 786
Swift
Dawn came as exultant release called out to me,
unleashing their alluring notes from the endless chiming of hearts
like evangelical sermons directed to impure minds
constantly begging for me, like divine wind, to throw myself at your celestial body

Morning lingered when warmth embraced my hands,
setting its golden gaze on my earthly tones
like wings pristine with incensed hints on its tips
shedding light on my soul, overshadowed by a monolith of self-hatred

High noon was evident when you spoke of desire
of how you fell from admiring me from above
as the dark winds from wings aflame trailed us
as you told me of ardor, with the light silhouetting your design, with your mask before mine

The doting sun, oh so true does set to rest,
unmasked by the evils that plagued my caged cardinal
as you craved for seven heavens to soar
as you flew away from me, further each try, further away with every leap from ground to sky

Evening came without stars or moon to haunt,
when you grew weathered by winds too strong
when you decided Nirvana was no longer I
as you undid heartstrings, with feathered blades that came from your frustrated inabilities

Midnight grips at my chest but you are not within my reach,
candle light can no longer chisel your androgyny
nor courteous words be answered when I pray
but one thing true fell from a single star, that shed its light, from hope of your return–

Just do so when your appetite roars to love me again
I still love him but he no longer does. I think.
Feb 2016 · 498
Theatrics
A circle of faucets
-dousing its interior with emotions both false and sincere-
flooding outside the four corners of this plastered room

A literal and perpetual flooding
-of undefined and undermined thoughts of constructivism-
coursing through the alleyways of the tiled flooring

A haughty idealism floored and trampled
-buried deep beneath the cheapened underlying concrete-
back to vulnerable piping to spout out of voracious spouts

In the end it's a cycle of tactile emotions coming from the circle of faucets itself.
I just need to let this out. I know it's abrupt but this is what feels right.
Jan 2016 · 438
Tidecaller
“Oh Tidecaller! Oh Tidecaller!”
sang the people of the depths
burdened by the blackness of deep
and by those who wish for heat

“Oh Tidecaller! Oh Tidecaller!”
they wailed underneath,
as the last light of the moon
escaped their holy stone too soon

How they longed for a warrior
to fetch the priceless pearl
beyond rigorous obstacles and traps
beyond mindless beasts of sea

To exchange it with man
on a cave by the beach
beyond their star maps
for a moonstone to shed light on their city

But no Tidecaller came to their aid
and the threat of death did
swished and swam their way
and they lost hope until–

A young promising warrior
swam to accept the challenge
to take what's rightfully their's
and to save their kind from destruction

“Oh Tidecaller! Oh Tidecaller!”
they shouted in glee
for the lass that came
had power to command the seas

“Oh Tidecaller! Oh Tidecaller!”
they sang as she left
bidding her farewell until
The day she returns with light

She fought krakens and serpents
just outside their realm
she waited and averted danger
as cunningly as she can

She made allies that helped
but along the way they perished
she made friends that died too
ones that she truly came to cherish

Upon retrieving the pearl
she swam as fast as she can
too a cave beyond star maps
but no one was there to make the exchange

She waited for days
hoping that man would come to their aid
to grant them a moonstone
that would save them for another age

“Oh Tidecaller! Oh Tidecaller!”
she called to herself
as despair and hopelessness
swallowed her totality

“Oh Tidecaller! Oh Tidecaller!”
she screamed to the lands
as she found new hope in finding what's lost
is it the stone or did man forgot?

For the first time in eternity
a Tidecaller touched land
determined to retrieve and receive
salvation almost at hand

Oh Tidecaller! Oh Tidecaller!
I wish thee luck
For the world of man is shameful
and filled with ill will

You will find what you seek
in exchange for what's left
of your sanity and health
in exchange for your only wealth

Oh Tidecaller! Oh Tidecaller!
Hold on to that pearl
Hold on to your dreams of a better world
for your people, for your home
Oh Tidecaller!
I was inspired to put Nami, the Tidecaller's lore from League of Legends into poetry.

No copyright infringement intended. All League of Legends characters belong to Riot Games.
Jan 2016 · 586
Unrehearsed
You see them
—ravishing in their chosen craft and marvelous before your sight
Resplendent creatures born from the union of fabricated thoughts and witty artistry
Tantalizing celestials that grow larger,
making you feel like you're engulfed in their searing arms—
branding you with marks of inefficiency

You look down
—unsure of your own atrocious behavior and crude mimicry
Revolting are you, you believe with utmost conviction and undying self-loathing
A carnal wanton of jealousy,
insisting that you will never share the same grandeur as them—
and you miniscule yourself

You stand center stage,
—on a platform where an audience could only ridicule you from below
Unnerving is their unmerciful criticisms to your lithe skill of transformation
******* savages are they,
when oceans of daggers spill forth from their mouths—
prepared to plunge into shame

but this feeling you have in your chest,
that distinguished bass filled tune
is unmistakably and undeniably,
*Unrehearsed.
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Jan 2016 · 409
Perkins
Guns or knives; barrel or edge,
Choose which way to end
In times of war where conflict stands
The tongue is the hammer to–
Feelings, propellant to bullet words
The eyes are hands that throw–
Tears, daggers to the heart that's stone
As the cloud of smoke fades with the wind
And crimson river streets are all but dried and stains
Remember destruction is brought upon
By thine own hands
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Dec 2015 · 492
Apologies From Death
Dear reader,

He was a child when misfortune came knocking on his door
His step fathe–
the monster entered his room drunk
It told him that he should’ve died along with his ****** father
The monster’s fist came crashing on his face
Baby teeth went flying out of place
He felt like he was dying
The whole time crying
His mother’s name he was calling
She came in running
With a rush of adrenaline she pushed the monster aside
A plethora of calming words she confides
And through the child’s eyes
All faded into the void
The wailing cries of banshees both scarlet and lapis woke his soul
Ravens in navy blue told him how the monster took his mother’s life
And how that poor beast took its own with the pull of a slipknot breaking its neck
Bulbs flashing,
Ideas popping above every head in the crime scene
Covering what was what the very definition of home
And much like that definition
Emotions left the child
Leaving nothing but pain alone

Like a single snowflake rolling into an avalanche as it falls down from the everest
Our child grew into a young man
And much like that destructive force of nature
He found it amusing
To wreck lives wherever he was put in
A red river rushed right out of a jagged hole
Stalactites and stalagmites,
Blood stained,
Cracked as they crashed on polished tiled floors
Just as soon as a five year old scavenger sees a half-empty bottle containing granules as white as the broken horses from before
Our young man empties his stomach and cleanses his mind
Regurgitating everything
He has taken in ever since he was put in the care
Of the man he just killed with stomach cleansers
Foster,
As cruel as his care can be,
Immediately took him to another plain
Pain followed right away
Like tailwinds that whip what a storm could not destroy
The rapture seemingly came early that year
Designated guardians fell like raindrops
Blood drizzled on printed flowers on the wall
As our killer wallflower craved to see handprints made of blood
Replace them all
Red seas emerged wherever he went
Not leaving a single body alive

My unseen hands touched the cold faces of bodies that met an early death
Just because they have met our young man
Now a revolting adult
It is my fault!
If I had not taken pity on that toothless child none of this would’ve happened
I cannot say that I enjoyed reaping the souls
Of those he enjoyed to reap too early
He was a convict giving a cruel verdict to the jury that didn’t know him
They did not choose to know him and that is also my fault
If he ever comes knocking on your door,
I apologize
For not taking his life as a child.

Sincerely yours,
*Death
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Dec 2015 · 698
Suicide Note
For those who, whenever they chase pavements,
stare at the adjacent road that mimics the starless night sky
And inside their heads they pretend
that they unknowingly trip on a crack on the cement,
so that they could find an excuse to use the incoming vehicle as an escape goat for life

Let's raise a glass to you for not doing so!

To the men high upon beams and chains and towers, overlooking the city skyline
filled with people tracing the sidewalks like ants in a single file,
who think to themselves: the fall will probably hurt less than the onslaught of words
coming from their wives for giving them a hard life

Let's raise a glass to you for not doing so!

I lift the crystal in my hand to the women who, no matter how battered and tattered are their skins,
choose to paint their faces with whatever powdered pallet they have
even though Rowling's metal wand sits beside their makeup inside the drawer of their dresser,
waiting for them to take their own life

Let's raise a glass to you for not doing so!

And to the students who have never gotten over their childhood traumas
and to the bullies who never outgrew the bruises from their fathers
that no matter how much it hurt you,
you never chose to end everything with a slipknot or the edge of a blade or with battery fluid you found in your garage,
I envy you

So, let's raise a glass to you too for not doing so!

I raise my half empty glass to all those who failed to take away god's gift
To the men and women who failed in fear of abandoning their children
I spill the contents of this wine glass
in honor of the sons and daughters of wealthy politicians, who succeeded in receiving eternal punishment for taking their lives
And to those who regret that they failed in their first try, please,
don't throw away your life

You are exquisite, you are tantalizing,
you are worthy of a million praises like the saints we see on mosaics and church pieces
Your works are rousing and they enflame the tiniest of sparks in at least one person's heart
be ravenous and unmerciful when improving your craft
Let's raise a glass!

Because as you are reading this, the glass of wine I have been carrying high above my head
had already spilled on the parchment where I have written these words with utmost care

So, will you raise your glass to me?
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com

P.S. I am not going to commit suicide. This is just a poem that I came up with after reading a script with a suicidal protagonist
Dec 2015 · 3.2k
Passenger Jeep
Cascades were dripping outside of this moving vehicle
White noise, patternless and arrhythmic
like magnified sounds of nails on a concrete wall,
made by souls desperate to cleave their way to dryness

This public utility vehicle holds spirits successful in finding this temporary heaven
Weathered, soaked and almost drowned
like panting dogs that managed to swim ashore from a shipwreck
caused by the iceberg that is the eye of the storm

This safe haven holds champions in a world of misshapen men

A woman clutches tightly on a bag of lime and her ever waning youth
Tired, but not eager to face Death
still closing her windows to his cat burglars
that come faster than the downpour of Typhon's tears

A homeless child comfortably sleeps on the far end of this ride
His innocence tested by fate
Too experienced for someone his age
instead of just playing in the streets he calls home

The jeepney driver has eyes on the road painted by Van Gogh
Unabashed, industrious and assiduous
determined to serve,
provide for a family whose stomachs hunger not but they hunger for his return

This other dimension nurtures alien thoughts and parallel thinking among beat down men

I do not know them but I can hear the cries of their emotions,
their longing to be felt and empathized with
Their voiceless cries are guns with a silenced nozzle
shooting at anyone ignorant who curiously stare at this minefield of a passenger jeep
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Dec 2015 · 626
Nemean Lion
If I see you
—walking down the street in the arms of another,
staring at them like they were the blessed mother,
holding them like fragile equipment—
I'll trod along, pretending to never have known you were there in the first place

My love, will you let me stay slave to loneliness,
will you continue to shun me in your desparate attempt to move on?

The thought of you in the care of someone else
irks my mind and pains my soul
It punctures my armor scathed
like the claws of a lion that fell itself

The very sight of your iridescent face
gleaming like a multifaceted gem
struck by light in a way it shows
life in glamorous technicolor burns my thoughts

The way your hands are clasped with theirs
Contrast to mine holding my own
together in prayer that you are mine alone
but what I wish differs from what I see

My love, will you let me stay slave to loneliness,
will you continue to shun me in your desparate attempt to move on?

If you see me
—strolling pass by you, trying to catch a glimpse of your face,
admiring you like you are a dancing sun,
trying to catch your image in my memories—
trodding by, just pretend you didn't so it wouldn't hurt any more than I have already hurt myself
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Dec 2015 · 367
Keep Telling Yourself That
The man without someone to talk to is, without a doubt, left out
You want to shout and your lips pout because you're the odd man out!
You want to challenge everyone to a bout; to take their spot -
to be part of the crowd but you're still cut!

So, I'll wait right here until the boredom kills and you feel the urge to talk to me
Awkward silence fills the air, liked stacked up bills you still haven't paid yet!
You know it's there but you don't care and wouldn't even dare to try and talk to me
And I'm afraid you only would on a bet.

Let your paper missiles fly across the air as you try to hit my crying eyes -
That are in disguise as white tinted windows staring emotionlessly at the sky
Let my vulnerable naïveté taste the touch of cold steel.
As long as you give me attention it's okay, it would heal.

You don't know the loneliness that being unmemorable brings!
The way it stings as they fling those sharp notes that sing in your ear 'you are not worth remembering'
You are not someone worth fighting for, worth settling a score, worth dying for
So they slam the door to your face and leave you alone in the cold lonely fjord.

The deep push of angry slurs to your head blurs your idea of humanity
And it stirs the notions of being different and loneliness hard, hard that they turn into synonyms
Which makes you cling to the idea that your very being is frowned upon by everyone
Even your own family.

The constant blame and shame that they force you to claim under your name
Puts a stain in your heart which gives you fame in the game that is life!
It is a painful sport, that game of life. Yet you strive
—strive to separate yourself from the infamy that was given to you since the beginning of your time.

You often find yourself paying fine for a crime that you did not commit
There is a raging fire within your cold beating heart and you feel it.
Every morning you tell yourself you are not a monster but a knight in worn down armor from battles past
And every night you tell yourself that the last insult you heard today will be the last.

Yes, I keep telling myself that.
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Dec 2015 · 623
Zealot
If there was a chance that a sliver of hope in humanity
still looms within your hallow chest;
still waves a portion of your resplendent soul like how the Hunyak calls for innocence undeclared;
still looks at the moon embraced by calcium coated rods, wishing it to quench its thirst
Will you let it revel in its over-zealousness?

If not, can you explain to me why,
why have you disowned your responsibilities to mankind despite it, like velcro, wailed when you tore it from your skin?
On the matter of the justice deprived, what say you?
Does it serve a lesser purpose than frolicking on streets, crimson bathed?
Has Billy shown you the razzle-dazzle of murderer's row?

As Legends wreak havoc with twin brigands,
slander who took a page from libel and read out loud —with a projected voice echoing throughout the ages— erroneous eyewitness accounts
and rancor who is bisexual to atrocity and entropy and seemingly engulfs himself in them,
you sat pretentious on your wheelchair
Over looking war from a peephole in a filthy blue washroom

The bombs that we drop are no longer metaphors to modern ears
Neither do sacred extremes keep their insatiable thirst for ruptured streets a thing of faded memory
Attacks on clergymen are no longer a painting born from a misinterpreted dream...

And you, no longer can you regain your innocence for you have witnessed the dilation of dense war, pulling and ******* every ray of light from hope that it sees

Yet you did nothing.

If there is still a speck of humanity in the mind of a mechanical automaton like you,
Will you let it rip apart steel skin and touch the lives of those like you?
Will you let it carve a symbol on your forehead, to let people know you are to save the dying hope in humanity
Or will you let it bid farewell to fair weather forevermore?
Or even more so, will you let it brand you so that every time you hear its call for justice inside you, you cry an ocean of dissatisfaction?

In the matter of a dishevelled world, what say you?
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Dec 2015 · 689
Rain Water
A rippled sky, waylaid
projected by reflected light
on the floor beneath my feet
On top of the pitch it seems–
like starry nights with echoed rings

A dauntless guardian, still
in protecting those under him,
avoiding the meteored blues
Its fruitful arms extend–
to reach children, prideful and anxious

The downpour of thoughts, torrential
ravaging the inner workings of a rippled mind
muddy with unsolicited fetor
Misfortune had her way–
with the brine on this man's body

Offsprings of a frothy child, joyful
jumping on the heads of
worn down golemns
Nurturing weaponized yet–
repressed emotions that fell prey to false empathy

From the canvass sea to the mirrored sky
travelling through concrete mattresses and blankets pure
and men,
They seem to neglect this jubilee
because of the sadness its aftermath brings
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Dec 2015 · 606
Picturesque
Lines on each side
Pressed between your lips and cheeks
Oh, how they take me to the skies when you smile

As the cloistered horses appear to greet me with your heart's sensations
Roughed, a rose snake reels in vibrations
That mention of your love

Windows glimmer
Under the light of the sun
Oh, how I wish to gaze upon them day and night

As those hazel wards keep their watch on the dull of vision presented
Dead, without the beating and twinkling
That you can see in mine

I, insecure—
in your apparition's stead
Oh, how I dread your departure from my tight embrace

As the songs of the cardinal that sings within my beaten chest sharpen
Piercing, desolating the wrought plate mail
In fear of your inevitable absence forever
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Dec 2015 · 4.1k
A Bass Filled Tune
A cardinal sings-
Its own melody drags it down, preventing flight
A bass filled tune that echoes in a cage of bone

Every day it cries
A hot spring that reflects its color
Streaming onto the rest of the massive prison

A grey man
Older than the prison, as old as the cardinal
Asks “Why do you cry in your lonesome, tender bird?"

The cardinal sings-
Its own melody deepens its intake of air
With a bass filled tune it says: “Because I am alone."
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Dec 2015 · 1.7k
Skinny
A cold touch, lingering, searching
with every tiptoed meeting
A cold tongue lingers, searches

The warm caress of brown-paper packages-
After us, unravelling
The warm caress of gift giving

Breathy open mouthed kissing
In each stolen evening
Breathy, open mouthed, we finish
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Dec 2015 · 750
Memory or Fantasy
Golden walls intricate
             regal behind your stead
Lights reflect every detail
                      on your beautiful head
                               on fabric, indigo
             pressed against my body,
                                        my bed

Beams, dim, light your cream skin
             Vivid images shown
Distance, a hairline fracture
                      Inhales, exhales, become
                               beautiful exchanges
             heavy plunges with our–
                                         deep moans

Words intricate, precise
          handpicked by lips so chapped
Marvelous, perilous sounds
                 graze my skin, steel bullets
                     as painful as your thrusts
          Inaudible groans leave
                                          your love
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Dec 2015 · 1.8k
Hozier
‘Your voice,
           I feel sedated whenever I hear
                     its dark caress
           Yet it invigorates me enough
                     for it to be my work song
You took me from Eden
                 to the church that is
                                  you
I entered its ancient confines-
                 to meet another you,
          someone new
                                              and Wilson you said:
“Be my Jackie,
                         let’s steal a child from creation
                         for I don’t want to be alone
          like real people do
who run into the woods somewhere ne'er to return to humanity"

               I wallowed in the heat of your
                   Auburn cathedral
and got seared by the heat of your *****
             and I hear your voice
                        as sweet
                              as cherry wine
And as I hear the trickling of fire
I realized that it is the arsonist’s lullaby.‘
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— The End —