Dearest don't frown,
when you're blue and down,
for even if I'm out of town,
you'll see me twirling,
around and around,
in a majestic princess gown,
making your frown go upside down.

Dearest don't cry,
and sigh,
if I happen to say,
Goodbye,
for I'll be your guardian
up in the sky,
within the clouds so high.

Dearest don't weep,
yourself to sleep,
trying, but failing to count sheep,
for in the dark hours I creep,
protecting, watching, observing...
You as your tired body tries to sleep.

Dearest don't shout,
nor pout,
when I'm out,
and doubt,
that I've forgotten you,
for I'm your guardian angel from above,
watching you as I should,
smiling a sad smile,
as you fall into dreams clutches,
after mourning for so long.

Dearest don't cut,
it's not the answer but...
put one foot,
before the other and you'll find, that a path has formed.

Dearest I hate watching your life-long struggle; humour me and find the light, choose the right path...

'Cause life's like a circus; you have to take chances juggling multiple ***** and fight lions and walk the rope...

Dearest be good,
as I know you could,
make me beam,
in a place unseen,
where I watch as you struggle,
with your father's mistakes,
with the absence of a motherly figure...

Dearest make me proud,
join the crowd,
of those that heed,
a dead mother's call...

In the shade of my smile,
echoes a certain depletedness,


in the depths of my eyes,
is a spectacle of inanition,


in the chaos of my heart,
lies one true thing, a lie...

Flutter of silver wings,

The feeling freedom brings,

Flapping a harmonious breeze,

A chilly glacial freeze,

Over my tethered limbs,

Counting the Devil's Sins,

Moon-face, beaming brightly,

Shadows dancing on the nightly,

A nocturnal suave,

My heart's empty cave...

Another poet from another age,

Proudly standing the pressure of the locked cage,

Racing heart beating in a fitful rage,

Innocent as a blooming pitcher sage,

Colours flying in fits of energetic madness,

Eagles watching from the mountain ledge,

Thousands of actors on stage,

Ongoing act of inhumanity,

Perhaps one day they'll realize,

Another day the sun won't rise from the east, nor set in the west,

Youthful wishes, sighs of deception, apocalypse



(acroustic: A PRiCE TO PAY)

The sun showering me with her morning kisses,
The wind purring long-forgotten secrets,
The clouds, moving, surveying, observing,
The trees whispering of tales long-foretold,
The nightingales singing sweetly of divine tragedies,
The ocean holding a secret at heart,
The stars witnessing what should be kept behind bars,
The moon mourning, the earth as it once was.

Flickering gently, sending an enigma across every face,

Breeze of jasmine scent
bathing o'er us,

Candleflame, scarlet wonder,
source of life, source of warmth,
my relief, my first class solitude.

Dark shadow creatures
of the night, dancing glorious
dances of the ol' days,
them young, joyous girls.

Drums beating in time,
with my heart,
dancers jumping, spinning in time,
all in the shadows
of a single candleflame.

On a mournful dark night,
in the ghastly moonlight...


  *

---What I was thinking when writing it:
I was thinking of African dancers and shadow plays and the eiry moonlight that reminds me of a candle. A completely different world of beauty and magic.

In a flourish of tutus,
Proud elegance in a swan's long neck,
Beauty in the enchanting movements,
Music paving a path to the depths of thought and dance,
A curse of bitter-sweet heart-ache,
Made from luscious mellow melodies,
Covering the sovereign in a flurry of glittering feathers,
From gliding wings, forever soaring as high as hope and unconscious passion,
Dancing upon a high cloud, leaping over majestic stars,
Twirling robotically with such smoothness and precision,
Fragile human machinery; well calculated,
Her longing arms stretched out wide in a drastic need of embrace; of the warmth of love,
The spectacle draws tears for the spectators to shed,
As no warmth is received, no modest love released from the drowned heart of a boy,
The poor swan is left agonized, spinning alone, numbness taking over,
Left to the intense cold of an empty world of loneliness,
As the thief runs away, stealing her bleeding heart,
Leaving her to wander ever on in the bitter cold and slowly fading music...

New moon orb hanging high above,

Flying across is a silver turtle-dove.

Closing in's the brighter daylight,

Star-staring at twilight.

Treasured moments of certainty,

Planting themselves for an eternity.

Lovers hushed vows drown the silence,

Forgetting the dread-filled year of violence.

Farewell seconds ticking, resounding gong,

Wistful kisses at the ****.

[Happy New Year! For the first time in 19 years the New Year's Eve moon is a new moon so I'm celebrating it with fellow star-gazers and poets through this spur-of-the-moment poem. Have a glorious 2014 starting with a clean slate :) ]

Rose in an aquatic lair,

Trapped in the enchanted sea-snare,

By a blue diamond, so rare.


(**** this one was hard to write!)

walking through the hidden realm of my heart,

whistling close by me, a poisoned dart,

burning lightning in a pearly orb,

the essence of my agony you absorb,

echoes of a dog's anguished howl,

the opening eyes of a new-born foal,

ruby tears from the eyes of an innocent child,

a Spanish bull fight gone wild,

fiery chimera in a hailstone blizzard,

a multilingual emerald, flying-lizard,

purple mountain majestic mistletoe kiss,

a rare sorrowful bliss,

a distant ringing of mournful bells,

walking along a rocky beach collecting empty shells,

carousel of blood-hounds, running on fire,

my only desire; to hear this unearthly ire,

wretched arlequin, juggling the last string of sanity,

this truly isn't a show of subconscious vanity,

reaping emotions at such surprising speeds,

along with bitter memories of horrendous deeds,

diving into a sun-warmed tropical reef,

floating with fire coral far beneath,

a lilytrotter on candy-sweet waters,

the irreplaceable smile of a cherished daughter,

a blue fish dancing on a ghastly moon,

corruption swept away by a gilded monsoon,

a flurry in a race-horse chase,

no thoughts left to chastise,

shrewd smell of ancient tree-spice,

lingers in the unreachable corners of paradise,

when the red and golden banners are hung,

a far-off nightingale's song is sung,

the cresent moon, white-light projector,

an involuntary earth-life protector,

darling Ludwig, you sly minx,

for you have put my uncontrollable will under a jinx,

I'm ****, my true colours on display,

until it comes my time to decay,

Elise trapped thee heart in Limbo,

full of shadowed stars and powdered moonshine,

in a fairytale land divine,

treacherous Elise, make a speech,

of words no Poet can breech,

to thy trespasser, rowing,

in forbidden waters of longing melody.

175 seconds of unabridged art in blood...




AN: I'm sorry about how mad this first appears to be. If any of you know the history behind the song Für Elise then you might understand what this rant-like poem is on about.

Elise, (not her real name) was proposed to by Ludwig van Beethoven but rejected him to be with an Austrian nobleman. It is thought he wrote this for her. So I tried to describe a bit of the emotions he put into tune.


(there are many theories on who this song was meant for but I just chose this one)

beyond the archway,
a hope-filled star glows bright,
burning the ghost-war

The pulchritudinous aquatic lair,

Of resplendent melancholy depth,

A place damaged beyond repair,

Teeming of glazed ghosts of death.



Hither and yon an offed world lingers,

The alluring charm of the cadaverous expanse,

Where bony-ice settles deep in frigid fingers,

A bloodless shore of gothic romance.



Eyes burning with a copper glance,

Vermilion waves wash over the bare sea-bed,

Waking the argenteous sand lance,

From their hide-out in death's head.



This oceanic God's acre,

Populated by inert remains,

Destroying the soul of a ballad-maker,

Hang-out of many sins and life-banes.



My languid, crippled stony heart,

Floating in this burgundy desert,

In fragments shattered into pieces of ****** art,

Blown away in a riotous explosion of subvert.







A/N: This poem is a tribute to the thousands of forgotten lives lost under the sea.