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1.4k · Jul 2016
At oceans end
Akira Chinen Jul 2016
She sat at the edge of where the ocean ends
Saving starfish from thoughts of suicide
Catching them as they try to jump
Throwing them up to shine in moonless sky
Her tears unnoticed did always flow
With heartaches salty bitter taste
A serene smile she forever kept
Saving starfish at oceans end
Still she dreams of long lost shores
Of days before her heart did break
Of the memory of a simple touch
That lead to the night
Of loves long passions kiss
The life she once had
Before she found herself at oceans end
By following the starfish in her eyes
1.3k · Mar 2015
Impossibly
Akira Chinen Mar 2015
Blindly madly and impossibly in love
How is it that the mere shadow of
  your ghost
Has my heart lost in a dreamers
  haze
Has my thoughts chasing you
  through an endless maze
Has me digging deep through the
  ground
For something I had never lost
  but rather something I never held
And now I'm blind and I'm mad
  and somehow impossibly in love
1.3k · Jun 2016
Love Letter
Akira Chinen Jun 2016
The crumbling of paper
The burning of ink
The breaking of hearts

Tear tear tear
That love letter apart

Silence is golden
No word
And no prayer

Tear tear tear
That love letter apart

Don't say it again
And again and again
Its going to wear thin
Don't let them see
The tears on your chin

Tear tear tear
That love letter apart
Before it begins

...

But my hands won't listen
And my heart doesn't mind the breaking
And my soul likes writing
With burning ink best
This love won't crumble
This paper can't tear
I can't stop dreaming
Of what I'm feeling
Every time I put
Pen to paper
To write
That love letter
That no hand or fate
Could
Tear tear tear
Apart
And I just have to say it
From the highest mountain
And deepest seas
From above the clouds
And off the wings of birds
From the songs of heaven
And the seductions of hell
I have to say it again and again
Because its the only
Truth that I have
And truth that I know
I'll say it with my last
Dying breath
And say it again
From my ghostly dust
I'll say it forever
And forevermore

...

*I Love You
1.3k · Jan 2017
a crown of lilies
Akira Chinen Jan 2017
The thought of her consumed the minutes of his day and his heart smiled and dreamt and painted images of her inbetween the movements of the second hand running in circles around the clock and inside the marrow of his soul her smile sung her name in unison with his pulse and even though he had never held her hand or tasted the sweet promise of nirvana glistening on her lips
and knew he likely never would
he couldn't deny that he had fallen over the edge and over his head and that even  if she never knew how he felt  that she would always walk through the dreams of his heart as a fawn wearing a crown of lilies
1.3k · May 2016
Paper Queen
Akira Chinen May 2016
Paper planes weren't made to cross the ocean
Not the Pacific or the Atlantic
Paper hearts weren't made to burn all night
A quick flame and a bright flash
Paper loves weren't written to last forever
Nothing more than a rhyme and a rhythm
But then my paper love turned real like Pinocchio
And sold my soul to the darkness below
And my paper heart burns but refuses to turn to ash
The fire growing brighter and hotter everyday
And the paper planes circle high around the moon
Over the ocean to give my heart to you
And now I'm made of paper
And my blood has turned to ink
And my marrow is the pulp to the pulse
And you're now my paper queen
With my paper heart
A jewel in your crown
As I'm just a paper fool
A paper puppet
A paper love
Ruled by you
1.2k · Jul 2016
The whole of love
Akira Chinen Jul 2016
Love is not a singularity
It is a whole
One cannot extract a part
Or worship only one piece
It must be accepted as a whole
One cannot only enjoy the soft warm places of love
The pleasent corners and pools
The weak seams that easily split
The lose threads that unravel with the slightest mistreatment
It takes great and delicate strength to walk its halls
Love is complex
And beautiful
It has hidden shadows and dark nights
It cries to the moon and begs for the sun
And it comforts them both in turn
Love is filled with dreams and hope
Longing and doubt
Wishes and tranquilty
Torment and viciousness
It resides in both angel and beast
Heaven and hell
And earth
In the tears of god
And the blood of the devil
One cannot claim it as there own
One cannot truely love any other person
Before loving them all
One cannot give love
Without giving themselves
First to love
Love is of our time
Our blood
Our soul
Treat it well
As you treat others well
Give your all to love
And give all your love
To those in need
Life and love
Though never perfect
Are always
Beautiful
1.2k · Aug 2019
and what about the sun...
Akira Chinen Aug 2019
do you ever think that
maybe the sun gets tired
that maybe she just needs
one night to herself
just one night to sleep
one day off to let
her fiery hair down
to find an ocean
big enough to swim through
a river wide enough
to float down

do you think she minds
that we write so many
poems to the moon
that we marvel
in awe and wonder
mesmerized by the moons light
forgetting even at night
its her light
lighting our way

do you ever wonder
what it must be like
to always be rising
to always be out
to always be hanging
somewhere in the sky
to always feel the fires burning

to never know the joy
of a cool breeze
to never find shelter from the heat
in the shade of a great oak tree
to never have your hands
go numb from playing in the snow

what must it be like to be the sun
do you ever stop to think
how tired she must be
to always be burning
burning so bright
all that light
all that warmth
keeping this earth alive

do you think she minds
all the poems we write to the moon
that we stay up so late
sleep in so often
and treat doing so as a luxury
that we relish the time
she is absent from the sky
do you think she minds
1.2k · Nov 2018
the inside out
Akira Chinen Nov 2018
Just follow the trail of dead heroes
the path littered with suicide notes
and shotgun shells

tender hearts made of tinder
veins lined with gasoline
fingertips with matchstick nails

you see I’ve been thinking
a lot about dying lately
as the world crumbles apart
and human decency is becoming
a fable of days long past

I can’t stop myself from thinking
that maybe we would
have been better off
dying when we were younger

maybe as far back as six or seven
back when we were an age
that still believed in things
worth believing in

because god **** it hurts
to look at what we are becoming
while completely ignoring
what we could be

instead of reaching for are potential
we pull back and hide
in the grasp of fear and doubt

nothing is learned from denial
as we take pride in god and country
while ignoring the blood stained
pages of human history

and tell me what god
would allow such cruelty
such blind hate
so much anger and fury

to let bullets fly
in our school yards and streets
churches and synagogues
places of unity and love

how much longer can we march
how much longer can we fight
how much longer can we live
in this world of “us vs. them”

when we’re just like them
and they are no different than us
whose line is it drawn in the sand
whose border is it
that separates this land
from that earth

who decided that there
was a difference
between you and me

two souls lost along the path
of dead heroes
with our tender hearts made of tinder
veins lined with gasoline
fingertips with matchstick nails

trying to hold on to hope
without burning ourselves
from the inside out
1.2k · Feb 2018
lost and never found
Akira Chinen Feb 2018
She drew out his desires
with the shape of her smile
and the colors of love
that she wore on her lips
and her voice was soft and sultry
and her dark sweet eyes
hypnotized and seduced his flesh in places
that made him blush
and he wanted to know the secrets
she kept between the letters of her name
as each syllable felt like a prayer
as they left his mouth
and he whisperd them again and again
until they became a mantra
to the goddess she was
beneath the curves of her skin
and he offered his heart
to sacrifice for her pleasures
and his life was hers to drain
and release and spill out
as he laid next to her
and lost in her
where he wanted to stay
and never be found
1.2k · Oct 2016
24 hour coffee shops
Akira Chinen Oct 2016
Where are the late night painters and poets and dreamers
The 24 hour coffee  shops with chipped saucers and street musicians  and black  and white photo opportunities
The 3:07 am philosophers and talkers and ******* this and **** that "I aint' workin' for the man" protest fighters
Where are the push back the day
I'm not finished with the night
Loners and monsters and strangers
Because normal isn't working and humans are disgusting
So I would rather walk alone
Than be part of a population wearing blinders pretending nothings wrong with living in a world that isn't safe for our sisters and our brothers sitting on the wrong side of a broken justice system
Its safer on the streets for rapists and murders
Than a girl in a short skirt or a man born with dark skin
Where are the architects of love and the masons of kindness and the engineers of empathy
Who's  gonna save us when heaven turns out to be empty
And there's no one there to wash away the blood off our hands for our crimes and sins against  humanity
Without the late night painters and poets and dreamers
The 24 hour coffee shops become ghost towns and the world crumbles
And the only thing beautiful for humanity to do is give itself to death
1.2k · Oct 2015
Simple
Akira Chinen Oct 2015
A simple life full of simple things
Is worth more than all the crowns
Of all the kings
1.2k · Aug 2016
Ribbons and butterflies
Akira Chinen Aug 2016
She was made out of ribbons and butterflies
She floated with a tragic grace and a melancholy smile painted on her face
She only existed by the magic and wonder of lost yesterdays
There was a quite storm of rage and sorrow trapped in her eyes
She found comfort in the fingertips of deaths cold grip
Though she could no more die than she could sleep or dream
And she could not sleep or dream for she was made of dreams
She lived in streches of hours and days
And inbetween seconds and flashes
She was neither here or there
But always everywhere
The ocean crashed and rolled within the threads of her hair
Tidal waves of mist hid her ever flowing tears
In moments of secrecy she prayed for the extinction of ribbons
And of a burning blaze to consume the last wing of all butterflies
1.2k · Oct 2014
Old Scarecrow of War
Akira Chinen Oct 2014
Old scarecrow of war
Do you remember what you died for?
Whose flag did you wave?
Who gave your life away?
Old scarecrow of war
Did you remember to pray?
Did you thank god for every bomb
   that you dropped?
For every soldier you killed for wearing
  the wrong uniform?
Old scarecrow of war
Did you make your general proud?
How about mom and dad?
Were those tears of joy as they put
  your body underground?
Old scarecrow of war
How many more of our children have to die
  before someone takes you down?
You don't frighten away bullets, tanks, ships,
  planes, or bombs
You don't scare away hate or chase away our
  sorrows
Old scarecrow of war
Being prepared has never brought us peace
Just constant death and grief
1.2k · Jan 2017
broken piano string
Akira Chinen Jan 2017
She was an old jazz song played on a broken piano string tied to the moon and the scars of his heart
He was the twisted and warped kneck of the ghost of a violin haunting the halls of her soul
Their love was lost long ago in a forest forgotten by time and swallowed by eternity
They both wandered the world never knowing the others name but finding each other every night at the brief moment between sleep and dreams
and they would both hear each others music as it was sewn note for note into the fabric of true love
and they would wake miles and mountains apart and years away and yet still feel the nights song flowing within the pulse of their blood
1.2k · Dec 2017
connected by love
Akira Chinen Dec 2017
As it is in the flesh and bones
  of every man and woman
    and child
and the name and blood
  of every god
as it is within every heart beat
  of every dream
the sting and weight
  and beauty of life
is the essence that makes
  all things mortal
nothing is eternal
  as even forevers
    have their end
and as we breath
  and die
    and dream
from one existence
  into another
we lose and find ourselves
  in and out of time
and as we sleepwalk through
  the skull of death
   and the womb of life
we catch a glimpse of that
  which lives within
  and outside of all
that which defies time and decay
  and in an unending song
  and single thread
we see everything
  is connected
   by love
1.2k · Jul 2017
the good laugh
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
I've laughed the good laugh
and I've giggled and snorted
and I've loved and been loved
beyond fear
and beyond beauty
and I've been broken
and shattered
and lost and found a reason
to laugh the good laugh again
despite the pain and misery of life
and I've been stupid
and done stupid
and I'm not done with my own stupidity yet
and I'll laugh at the joke of my unfunny life
and I'll laugh with death
at the end of it all
and it will be a good laugh
at a good life that had been filled
with good love
and good misery
and good company
that knew how to laugh
and giggle and snort
despite the pain and suffering
of living a good life
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
And I blame the likes of JM Dematteis and Jon J Muth
for writing and Illustrating The Complete MoonShadow
so perfectly well
and Charles Baudelaire for leaving behind
his flowers for all the world
to smell the evil within their roots
and for Blake for his reeds and his tiger
and his heaven and hell
and for freezing eternity so we might all catch a glimpse
and for Bukowski and Hunter
for turning ugly truths into something beautiful
we could all enjoy hating
and for Shakespeare and Gaiman
and the dreams they weave
into the fabrics of our soul
and for the devil and temptation
and for god and shame
and for the laughter of children
and the tears of the grieving
who will never hear their children laugh again
and for those that paint
something beautiful out of all the pain
that they feel and see in the world
and the melancholy who sit high up
in dead tree branches to hang the moon
and the stars in the dark of the night
so the rest of us dont have to be lost and alone
in the lonely hours between sleep and dreams
and for each painful breath
that reminds me where love once lived
in my chest and each joyful sigh
that reminds that I'm still alive
and that somewhere between the shadows of doubt
and the glimpse of brief moments of hope
I still might find a seed shaped
like a heart beating  to plant in my hand
and sew over my chest
and I can meet death
with love still living inside the cold ground
where my body will rest
1.2k · Aug 2016
Of love and death
Akira Chinen Aug 2016
I often think of love and death
For they often seem the same
One cannot exist without the other
It is the end of suffering
That we find in the kindness
In the lips of their kiss
There is both the thrill and fear of the unknown
When we feel the approach of either one
Too often fear has the stronger pull
For even the excitement of the thrill can terrify us
We run from love we could embrace
For fears of its validity its vitality its inevitable end
The pain and suffering we see in its wake
We use our past failures and misconceptions of love
To judge and misdirect our current and future interactions with love
It is hard to belive that love is immortal
When we belive ourselves to be not
To live in fear of death
Only robs us of moments
We could better spend in the pursuit and hands of love
We cannot escape death
We cannot out run its grasp
We cannot avoid its breath
We cannot hide behind locked doors from it
Yet we often fear it as if fear will shield us from its inevitable kiss
And once again in spending time with fear
We are only losing moments we could better enjoy in the pursuit of life
It is in this pursuit of life we should find freedom from fear
That death is not a thief of immortality
And that we find ourselves immortal when we embrace love
1.2k · Sep 2018
kung-fu grip
Akira Chinen Sep 2018
Depression doesn’t loosen its grip when I am caught off guard by a joke / and it is funny enough to make me snort and that only makes me laugh at the embarrassment I feel from snorting / it’s still there coiling quietly while reloading its fangs with venom / ready to strike whenever I start to feel something good is happening / that maybe this whole life and art and love thing is worth taking out my paper and pencils and pens and brushes  and paints for / and maybe just maybe give some hope to dreaming like I did back in my youth / back when I thought more about my potential / I thought more about my abilities / I thought I could do anything / I thought I would do anything / I thought love... / I thought love was within reach.../ somewhere with someone... / I wouldn’t say I really suffer from any serious forms of depression /  more of just “situational” depression /like I hate my job “depression” / I hate my ability to procrastinate so well “depression” / I hate the way I carry so much self loathing “depression” / the I hate my “life” depression... / you know / situational “depression” / and the situation only being the situation of being alive “depression” / but it comes and goes / slithering quietly through / from my mind through my heart / back and forth / waiting silently for anything I might feel or think that it might want to strike out at and strangle and swallow head first / its nice like that / to not always be present in every thought of every day / but never to far away / never gone for good / I mean theres a lot in this world and this life to be depressed about / how horrible would it be to not be able to feel depressed...oh man, I almost snorted...
1.1k · Nov 2016
warmth of her breath
Akira Chinen Nov 2016
Her voice dripped with the slow sultry ease of forbidden lust and I was lost in the wanting to know the warmth of her breath and haunted by the dark grey of her eyes and the perfect pitch black flow of her hair I often found myself waking in a dream of her soft velvet lips folded over my hard skin and whispers let lose secrets of pleasures blooming in hidden flowers just below hiked up skirts and just above loosened belts and I was wandering between the rings of Saturn and prayers for Kalypso to release the raging sea of desires flooding the echos in the chambers of my heart and finding myself being helpless to the temptation of the moment of life kissing death and gave into the eruption of self induced gratification and felt the dream slowly die between my legs as the ghost of her lips spoke with a slow sultry ease that she was only the dream of lust born from the beauty of impossible love found only in the warmth of her breath
1.1k · Oct 2016
what fools...
Akira Chinen Oct 2016
What fools we are to spend our lives
not painting or *******
What feels better in our hands
than a brush or a lover
To feel the paint spread along the canvass
And tounges pressed against our flesh
To explore and mix colors before our eyes
And tangle and twist our limbs
To merge heaven and hell with water and paper
And lust and sin with lips and skin
Push the sky with oil and knife
Open legs with mouth and breath
Make flowers bloom in eternal night
Draw moans from throat and *****
Let the paint and nectar flow
Melt flesh and expose our souls
Passion paints desire
Desire burns our bones
Lets not waste our time
And hold brush and lust and love
And paint our every hour
and grind hips to lips to sin and moan
Lets not waste what little time
We have to make life beautiful
1.1k · May 2017
The Mermaid Moon
Akira Chinen May 2017
The stars danced and twirled and streaked and fell and the moon floated low in the sky just an arms reach above the silent horizon.  The mermaid laid halfway out of the cool water in the middle of her favorite lagoon on her favorite rock as she sighed deeply and gazed longingly into the secrets of the night.  She had swam and explored and discovered and unlocked every mystery and treasure the ocean could hold.  Her stomach grumbled and soul yearned to know the untold stories of the infinite sea of stars and moons and celestial orbs beyond the vision of the eyes trapped in her skull.  She lazily rolled onto her back and let her head sway and roll turning the world upside down so that the sky became the sea and the sea became the sky.  Her arm stretched out and she traced an imagineray circle around the moon in the sky and then let her fingers dangle and sink into the water just below the reflection of the smiling crescent moon.  She quickly closed her hand around the water the moon laid in and brought her hand to her lips and whispered,  "Trade places with me or I will swallow you whole...", her voice trailing off into a giggle.  And as the moon gave no reply she sipped the water down and continued to laugh and giggle and she may not want you to know this, but she snorted once or twice as well, and then let out a deep sigh full of dreams and wishes.  She slide back into the lagoon and circled her favorite rock and swam to the bottom and grabbed a handful of starfish and shoot back up and out of the surface of the water and tossed the starfish flying through the air to do their nightly ballet.  She splashed back into the water and swam back to her rock and searched the sky for the moon.  She looked left, she looked right... up... down... she swam on her back in circles and zigzags looking and looking, but the moon had vanished.  

The mermaid pulled herself out of the water and sat curled tightly on her rock wondering and worrying about where the moon had gone.  She quietly whispered to herself, "...no... no... no... I didn't swallow the moon, it was only pretend...".  Her eyes began to swell and her heart trembled and a tear began to swim toward the corner of her eye and as it slowly crawled down her cheek a small white sliver cut open  the dark indigo sky and a star came crashing through and whooooooosshhed over the silent horizon and splashed into the lagoon.  Without thinking she slipped back into water and swam sure and fast to where the star was sinking and glowing brightly.  With her two arms reaching far in front of her she swished her tail and body back and forth faster and faster until she held the star in her two hands.  It was warm and cool and hummed and sang without making a sound and the mermaids lips spread into a wide smile.  The star had been sent by the keepers of the secret of secret keepers to grant her her dreams and her wish and the mermaid instantly knew what to do.  She swam three circles round and round and round her favorite rock and gathered one and two and three of her favorite star shaped fish and glided across the bottom of her favorite lagoon and then darted straight up and out of the water and into the night and arched her back and touched her tail to her nose and made a circle silhouette in the sky and then splashed back down.  Then swam to the bottom and back up into the night higher and higher until she went so high into the sky that she hung there like a dream suspended and glowing and beaming and she became the new moon.  And only the keepers of the secret of secret keepers and you and me know the story of The Mermaid Moon.
1.1k · May 2016
Pursuit of love
Akira Chinen May 2016
All in the pursuit of love
Footsteps of misery
Walking the lonesome miles
Lost to the sands and fire
Soul sacrificed to the divinity
Of longings aches
And distant dreams
Love needs a flame
Life needs the hurt
Theres no difference
Between heaven and earth
When lost in your gaze
No distance too far
No hope too dim
No wish too frail
For footsteps taken
Towards forevers end
When all in the pursuit
Of love
https://youtu.be/Klt904ga4IA
1.1k · Nov 2018
Fathers boots
Akira Chinen Nov 2018
He steps into his fathers boots
and his feet are soaked in blood
and he straps on a helmet
already riddled with bullet holes
to his head
and marches off to an endless war
with the same hate in his blood
fueled by the same pride in his heart
as his fathers father before him
“For god and glory!” he shouts
without questioning what it is
he’s fighting for

A pawn from the other side
steps onto the board
and repeats the same thing
walking the same steps as his father
in the same shoes as his father
in blind obedience
with the same hate
and the same pride

two sides on the same board
and somewhere in the middle
all the pieces are painted
with the same color of death
and the squares disappear
into puddles of blood
that turn into the rivers of ink
that write the obituaries
of all the young lives sold off
to the illusion of freedom
that whispers that this is the price
we must pay over and over again
for god and glory

but somewhere behind the curtain
hands are being shook
and money is exchanged and piled up
and the pigs are keeping themselves fat
from the feast provided
by the endless storm of bullets and bombs
raining down from the smoke pouring out
of the diseased heart
of the never dying war machine

the corpses are stripped down
and sent home  
and the boots are recycled
and isn’t it a beautiful parade
with all those dead bodies
wrapped in a flag full of pride
with a lesson of how to hate

to keep the peace
we keep a gun loaded
with nuclear bombs
pointed at each other’s forehead

and somewhere in the distance
in a hospital room
in a bedroom
in the arms of a new mother
a new father

a baby cries

with a fresh pair of feet
that will one day
******* an old pair of boots
and step onto a square
and march off
to the endless war
of god and glory
Akira Chinen Dec 2017
We sculpt clay into the things
we cannot force our bodies into
we string the alphabet
into stories we are afraid to live
we paint with colors we cannot see
and we ignore the music
inside the beat of our hearts

as we forget what it means to live
we muse on what was
once beautiful about being alive
and forget our thoughts
as we stare emptily to the sky

and the night swallows the day
and the day murders the night
and prayers become graveyards
for dead gods
and our beds become coffins
for dreams

round and round the clay
of the earth spins
and slips through our fingers
as time is something we waste
and our reflection
is a ghost of once was
and what could be

if we could only remember
who we were before
we became prisoners inside
our own minds and found shame
in the shape of our flesh

before we needed the alphabet
to speak of love
and metaphors to hide behind
and fairy tales to mend our wounds

back when the music
inside the beat of our hearts
was all we needed
to know that we were beautiful
1.0k · Jul 2017
foolish endeavor
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
Love is a foolish endeavor
of dreamers chasing fairy tale poems
and midnight dragons
made of moonshine and butterflies
and fire from the time before
heartache and misery
and the evil and sins
invented by better men
who know not to love
for love is a foolish endeavor
1.0k · Jun 2017
poems of furnace and fire
Akira Chinen Jun 2017
There was a kindness
so soft and quite
in the acorn nut brown
color of her eyes
that the magic there
though silent and still
burst into fireworks
of magic and awe
beauty and splendor
and he felt that
he was under a spell
where he could tell no lies
and though he did not want
to spill the truth
he had no choice
and colors of love
were forged andlayed out
and hammered and sharpened
over the stones and water
of the wellspring of eternity
and shaped into poems
of furnace and fire
and laying helplessly
under her milky way skin
his voice cracked
and his lips trembled
and in a hushed whisperd
he confessed thathe had fallen
stars over moons
and suns sleeping in oceans
and into the beautiful madness
of finding the meaning
of life and love
as he sewed her name
within the walls of his heart
1.0k · Mar 2017
Romeos funeral
Akira Chinen Mar 2017
She wore her red shoes to Romeos funeral
and misssed the stale smell of his cheap cologne
and that his lips had always tasted of whiskey
she picked up a card and some flowers and a strange ballon
for $29 and some spare change from the drug store
on Kentucky Ave. where someone had stolen
her favorite alligator purse
somewhere in the distance a train pulling box cars
whistled to the magpies with their wings spread up above
just hanging there like kites
and she wore a pretty blue gun strapped to her thigh
right over where he had left his teeth marks on the forth of July
the one he had given her on the Valentine's day
he had spent in jail for attempting to rob the jewelry store
for the necklace she had wanted for Christmas
the December before
the same Christmas all he could give her
was his favorite skull and crossbones ring
tied around the broken piano string
he had once tried to wear as a tie  
they had meet the night he stole her record player
and she had happened to be on the wrong side of the road
as he made his way from the scene of the crime
completely unaware she would steal his heart
before he would see another sunrise
but that was all before he took a bullet to the chest
after avenging his brother that was left to die
without his knife
they had found his body in the theater
with his shoes full of blood and a smile on his face
and she knew as his body was lowered
into the cold cold ground her new favorite color was going
to be blue come next Valentine's day
1.0k · Sep 2016
where it hurts
Akira Chinen Sep 2016
Lift up your shirt
And show me where it hurts
Is it near the middle of your chest
Beneath your skin and flesh
Is it that beating thing inside
That thing that is keeping you alive
Although it feels dead inside
Lift up your skirt
Tell me something new
Reveal a new universe
Do you belive in pleasure
Bloomed from sin
Or is there only pain tangled in the roots
Of the flower that you hide
What do you carry thats beautiful inside
The colors in your eyes
Says your silence tells no lies
But whats the deeper truth
Of the soul lost in the reflection
Of the darkness in thier black
If I share my scars and wounds
The ghosts haunting my living pulse
The dead love buried deep
In the lost sea of beating ocean red
The thing that was once my heart
Nailed to the misery
Of something that was once a dream
What could you do or say
If I show you where it hurts
We both know its just a lie
To say
I'll take your pain away
But I'll still belive you anyway
Its what we are suppose to do
As we grind bones and time to dust
Is it any different
If we just pretend to love
Will it hurt any less
When its just empty motion
And hollow words
The echo of a long ago truth
Spoken years ago
Back when the thing
Keeping us from death
Still made us feel alive
1.0k · Oct 2016
throw the book in the fire
Akira Chinen Oct 2016
There are still mornings where I wake up with a raging after thought of you and a hard memory aching for release.  I lay in a pool of cold sweat that still has the perfume of your pheromones that you left stiched in my skin.  And I can still feel the warmth of your lips over the scar you left on the inside of my thigh with your teeth the night you wanted to see what would come first... a scream or a moan or the taste of my blood against your tounge.  Your way of loving burned and reduced me to ash every time our flesh tangled and twisted and contorted and melted away until we were nothing but lust and rage and passion fusing together under sheets and over floorboards and in front of mirrors and ontop of counters and parked in driveways and in the downpour of the rain scented by the lost and found ghosts of love.  I don't open my eyes but find myself praying to gods I don't really belive in to fall back to sleep and find this dream of you again and again and find myself questioning if you were ever really real.  Some would say that this was the kind of love you could only read about, that it was the kind of love only madness could dream of... that a human heart and mind and body couldn't survive such a feverish affair.  Or maybe it's just me, maybe I'm the one trapped on a page, the fool and the pawn to some story book queen with ink for blood and paper for skin... if that happens to be true, throw the book in the fire, but for old times sake... read it one more time again and again
Akira Chinen Sep 2018
They will sell us the addiction and then profit off the treatment they pretend to be a cure but it ain’t nothing but a revolving door of pills and rehabilitation and relapse the doctor is just a dealer with a license to ****** what little humanity we might have left side effects of no free will and plastic smiles and refills of suicidal thoughts and if depression doesn’t suit us they can strap us down in high anxiety and low self esteem straight jacket pin strip suits to cover up the tracks and scars that decorate our arms where we mixed our blood with the poison to feel like someone more than human high above the clouds in the atmosphere where we can always see the son of Jesus dancing as we let our mind run free in its cage beneath our skulls and when we’re down and numb we cut ourself twice to see if we can still feel and three times for superstitious reasons that we hear whispering from something crawling just beneath our skin and we add up the two by two of who is who and the devil is only real when he’s human but the myth is easier to blame for the down fall and disease of modern man and what’s so modern about mass ****** isn’t that the commonality running through all of our history what have we done to earn the crown of most intelligent as we destroy the only planet we have to call a home it seems to me we are all addicts of complicity and stupidity and what are the wealthy going to do with all their profit when we have buried the last of our humanity and its **** **** **** for the spoon and needle and bottle of pills for cheap thrills and we got nothing to lose by using our last few moments making sure if were going to die from our addictions we’re taking them on our last ride there’s no cure for the living that live each day as they already dead walking in circles of relapsing rehabilitation of refillable suicidal thoughts all in a single pill all in a single pill all in a single pill to cure everything but the addiction
993 · Dec 2017
her name
Akira Chinen Dec 2017
To speak her name
is to let the syllables
fall from your mouth in a prayer
of perfect love and desire
to gaze into her eyes
is to fall into eternity
and see all that
is beautiful about heaven
and feel all the temptations
forbidden even in hell

to dream of her lips is a dream
that makes the gods tremble
and the devils heart ache
her skin is made of the lost pages
of soft lust written from the blood
within the heart of fairy tales

she is the magic of witchcraft
and the witchcraft of wonder
she lives under the sun
and above the night
she is the wish of every star
longing to be beautiful

in all of mans imagination
nothing could be as lovely or as sweet
as to have her name fall
from your mouth in every breath
and to have the prayer
of perfect love and desire
wrap around your very heartbeat
986 · Oct 2016
something about your smile
Akira Chinen Oct 2016
There is something about your smile that makes me want to part your lips
And discover the touch of your fingertips as they carve your name into  my back
To feel the warmth of your breath as your teeth release the blood within my neck
Revealing the hidden lust and rage of my pulse
Letting both tounges and limbs tangle and twist
Along the secrets locked beneath the colors of hushed closed eyes
To give you my flesh and bone and time
To grind away
To pave the sky
To paint the stars
To have my heart and life explode
And scatter across the dark haunted sky
Below the slight part of your lips
As the moon reflects
The mystery and beauty
Of your smile
975 · Jul 2017
blood is cheap
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
Playgrounds turn to battlefields
as our children grow into children
who **** children
and it's always us vs them
as sneakers filling with sand
turn into boots filling with blood
but blood is cheap
and easy to make
the less we educate
the more likely our babies
will make babies of their own
while they are still babies
so take away birth control and information
and it doesn't have to be safe ***
as long as they keep getting pregnant
consensual or ****
lets keep that fetus safe
we need new feet to keep marching
to keep those old war drums banging
late into the night
to keep our enemies hating
on what we do because
they just don't get our idea
of what it means to be cool
it's live by our cross
or die by our sword
in the might of the dollar
and the words printed on every coin
we know we're always right
so military or civilian just bomb them all
and let god sort them out
because blood is cheap
and the dollar needs
  more
    more
      more
of that beautiful thing we call war
974 · Apr 2016
Endless Ocean Eyes
Akira Chinen Apr 2016
I heard the song
Of a London bird
Last night
Outside my window pane
Softly she flew
Into a dream
And with her
Endless ocean eyes
And feathers
Painted red
She sang
Of love
And loathing
Bitter tears
Kind smiles
Longing
For fingertips
Touching
Sultry skin
That was
Too far
Apart
Too measure
But only
A dream away
Lost stories
Only found
In darkness
Love
Unnoticed
Unreturned
Unfelt
Undying
My heart
Grow heavy
As I listened
Sitting alone
Inside
Knowing
If I looked
Outside
She
Would not
Be there
All I could
Do was listen
And
Wish
That I had
Wings
That I might
Join her
In dreams
In darkness
In hope
In her songs
And nest
https://soundcloud.com/jason-hughes-240320794/endless-ocean-eyes
964 · Feb 2019
The Murdering of Crows
Akira Chinen Feb 2019
While the mother crow cries
over the dead bodies
of her children
the doves fly away
as if the murdering of crows
is not any kind of crime

as the doves
see evil
hear evil
protect evil

The crows heart
a constant target
of the doves violence

Who's next?
Whose name is destined for hashtags and ******
how many lives
will it take
before the hate
and fear
in the doves heart
bleeds out

The deadline of
the life of a crow
is drawn by the jeweled crown
of loathing the dove wears
on its head
and the fear inside
the loaded gun
of the doves eye
and the hate beating
wildly beneath its wings
and blindly in its heart

Hope is a heavy burden
under the pounding
blood red sky

Where the doves
practice ******
more often than
they protect the peace

As the oath has changed
to protect and serve
their own kind

and lady justice
has been blinded
by a white wash
of white lies

And the murdering of crows
goes on...
and on...
and on...

While the living
can wait their turn
to be murdered
and crucified
and martyred
on the next hashtag

while serving their time
from inside the freedom
they have behind the bars
of the cage of poverty
and there is always
more room for another
and another
and another
inside the skin
of the prison cell life
they were born in

The crow is suspected guilty
until pronounced dead

and its innocence
is nothing the doves
cannot beat out of it
even after it is already dead

as the color
of the doves guilt
is judged to be
more pure than
a corpse with
a crows dead heart
no matter the weight
of its innocence

and the murdering of crows
goes on...

and on...

and on...

While the feathers
of the doves wing
spread out sharp like knives
with a seemingly
bottomless hunger
for the heart of the crows

and we lower the body
of another martyr
into the earth
how much longer
will we allow
the murders of crows
to walk free
as if the murdering of crows
is not a crime

the doves can bury
the body of a crow
after crow
(one after another and another)
but never their songs
never their names
never their hearts
and the dead will speak
for the living
as long as the living
never forget the dead

one day the crows
  are going to rise up
over the black asphalt
  city skyline

singing into the
  blood red sky
   hearts crowned
    with fire and hope

flying high and free
   flying over
     the mountain tops

singing of the
   promised land

singing for the dead
   but not forgotten

singing words
  of flame
    and poetry

singing for
   freedom
     and unity

carrying the weight of hope
and hope is a heavy burden
we all must carry into tomorrow
and tomorrow
or tomorrow will never
be better than today
we must always lift our dreams
with love and hope
and one day may we find
our way over the mountain top
and into the land of promise
where birds of every feather
are free to fly in a sky
without violence
and fear
and hate
where tomorrow is a river
flowing into a better today
963 · Apr 2017
velvet whispers
Akira Chinen Apr 2017
Your velvet whispers trace along my neck
and snake into my ears
and stich their venom into my heart
and force grateful moans from my lips
wet from your flowers kiss
and I sink deeper into you
as your poison races
within the blood of my quickened pulse
and my heart feels ready to explode
as our flesh and bones ****** and grind
outside of time and space
I am drowned beneath the crashing waves of your silken skin
and fire dances between our entwined fingertips
as our limbs tangle
and melt
and merge
and we slide in and out
and through the mist of your soft folds
and the raging flow of my hardened skin
and we become more than just a dream of lust and sin
and we flow beyond the lost stars
of the indigo river of eternity
and transcend through the dark secrets
from the moons heart
floating in the sky of perfections love
962 · Jan 2018
the art of love
Akira Chinen Jan 2018
It all started so long ago
that even time cannot recall
where or how it all began
and I was not there
but somehow in part I was
and you as well
though we don’t remember
in the traditional way of remembering
yet we can see in the ways
that leave our eyes blind
that we all were there
in some small
yet infinitely important way
a thread pulled from the nothing
that turned into everything
a spool of love unfurling in waves
of sound and dance
and life and death
and Vincent yellow stars
and pastel ballerina Degas
and time melting into pools of Dali
and sounds trapped
in in the silent world of Beethoven
and the drum beat of Kerouac
and the flowers of Baudelaire
and the drunk truth of Bukowski
and something lost
in the shape of memory
betrayed by what would become ego
was the simplicity of joy
before we had flesh to cover our bones
and bones to move our flesh
and our hearts where stars
that dreamt against the emptiness
in the space between what was
and what could be
and in the pulse of becoming
and into the flow of being
and with the birth of want and need
we gave ego sharp tooth and claw
and drew lines across the night
and dived eternities horizon
into heaven and hell
and pulled the gods and devils
from a hat that we found
upon a corpse that was once
a man made out of snow
from a land where winter
was not cold and bitter
but had a gently warmth
and easy fire that was calm and clean
and things of all sort knew
that the need to be loved
was no more or less important
than the need to love
for time was a waste of all
when absent of the art of love
and now what are we
if we are not allowed to dream endlessly
if we are not allowed to love infinitely
if we fail to live kindly
if we ever forget
the art of love
then the beginning may as well
have been the end
957 · Feb 2017
last and first
Akira Chinen Feb 2017
He knew it was love when he awoke in the middle of a dream that felt like the answer to a prayer and he didn't care if it was god whispering the truth in his ear or the devil selling him a lie and he knew either way he would love her until this lifes last breath and find her again filling his lungs with the first of his next
955 · Apr 2016
Terrifying Exhilaration
Akira Chinen Apr 2016
I crawl slowly
Into my empty bed
My mind heavy
My heart light
Dreaming of what could be
I've been falling
Too quickly
Too deep
Terrifying
Exhilaration
I can't stop my thoughts
Of you
This feeling consuming
My heart
My soul
My whole being
Has long sought
Such fire
My body
Drenched
In pure
Desire
Trembling
My hard
Flesh seeps
Life and
Love
At your
Every image
And
Every word
My hands
Shake
To write
This down
But my
Heart
Smiles
For your
Name
Falling
Falling
Fast
And
Deep
948 · Apr 2019
a good bullet
Akira Chinen Apr 2019
a good bullet never saw a good war
a good bullet never felt the hammer strike
a good bullet never heard the thunder
  never felt the heat of the explosion
    that sent it like lightning
      flying from the chamber of a gun
       the barrel of a riffle

a good bullet never tore a hole through flesh
a good bullet never shattered bone
a good bullet never bite into a heart
  and held it in its teeth
   until it stopped beating

a good bullet was never made
  
  was never made

was never made to steal a child’s smile away

not your sons
not your daughters
not at any age

a good bullet was never made

  a good bullet was never made

a good bullet was never made
to turn a playground into a graveyard
where a mothers eyes drained
of all their colors but grey
fill with storm clouds
that endless pour down
tears of grief over the dug open earth

a good bullet was never made
to turn a school into a war zone
where a fathers chest is emptied
of everything but the pains of loss
for his daughters smile
that he will only see
in photographs of memories
and haunted dreams

a good bullet was never made
to turn a traffic stop into an obituary
where blind hate and fear
flows from heart to hand
to trigger and hammer and...

****** will somehow
not be considered ******
when the hand of the killer
wears a badge
and the training manual
says shoot to ****
as it is more cost effective
and the deceased
will become just another name
to be lined up behind a hashtag
and a slogan...

a good bullet was never made

   was never made

to feel the hammer strike
to leave the chamber off a gun
to steal a life away

A good bullet was never...
946 · May 2016
By Metaphors Betrayed
Akira Chinen May 2016
Goodbye world
Goodbye poetry
The metaphors have sold me out
And exposed my lies and lies and lies
And now I have no where left to hide
The doctor tried to lock me up
And tear off my new head
But worry not for he did not succeed
I pushed and knocked him down
He yelled,

"Come back!  Come back! You're  mad!"

But I knew
It was he who was crazy
Fallen I may be
But I know my heart
Is exactly where it belongs
That doctor would rather make me
Numb and dumb
He doesn't know all love must be
Mad
Or not be done
So I jumped the wall
And escaped his Loony-Bin

He gave chase
And yelped for help

"Stop him! Stop him!"
"A stark raving Lunatic is on the loose!"

Having taken lessons from my fallen heart
My feet did race fast and quick
Oh my metaphors, my metaphors...
How could they!?!?
Exposed my lies and lies and lies!
Now where can I hide?
Oh woe oh woe oh woe...
I've got nowhere else to go
But to take the trek
To the forbidden
Hills of madness
My crayon eyes of red
Now turning blue
As I run and cry and cry and cry
Why oh why oh why
Did my metaphors betray me?
My heart head
Feels doomed to breaking
But broke or whole
To love you
Was the only sensible thing for it to do
Even if it seemed crazy
I run and sing
Off key and out of tune
And horribly
But no choice left
All other words have disappeared
No more metaphors
No way to lie and lie and lie
Only three words left to sing
And scream
And howl
And I trust the moon
To pass my song to you
Across the sea between us
It may be small
Only three words long
But these three words are true
And this may be my last breath
So here I sing

"I Love You!  I Love You!  I Love You!"
Kiss me today and **** me tomorrow
Loving you was easy
And if this heart does break its love will not
And forever will it sing off key
943 · May 2016
The Other Side Of Love
Akira Chinen May 2016
The other side of love
The side no one wants to talk about
The side everyone sees as ugly
The side that they call hurtful and painful
The side they blame their own failures on

The side that takes our abuse
And our punishment
And our stupid pride
And our indifference
And our neglect
And our hate for it...
The hurt days of love
The bad months
The horrible lonely years
The cold nights
The armless dreams
Where there is nothing
To hang onto
But the misery of our
Failed attempts
Side of love...

No one stops to look
At it
Feel it
Really feel it
Other side of love
They're too busy
Filling their empty
Souls
With resentment
And anger
And disappointed
For it
Side of love

If they did though
If they stopped
For a moment
Stopped their
Woe is me
Pitty
Loathing
Moment
And listened
And looked
And just felt
The air there
On the
Other side of love

They would feel
And see
And hear
That it is every bit
As beautiful as
Its opposite
That it is nothing
More than the
Exact reflection
Mirror image
Of the absolute
Truth of love
That love
True
Perfect
LOVE
Is
Mad
Mad
Madness

It doesnt have sides
It is always whole
And complete
Full waiting
To be poured out
To needing hands
Empty waiting to
Be filled with
The kindness of
Strangers
Always broken
And always
Unbreakable
Its unexpected
And unexplainable
No reason
And absolute
Sense
The
Answer
To the perplexing
Question
Of life
Answered
Perfectly by being
The question
Of life
Itself

Give into its
Mad
Mad
Madness
And be
Grateful
To have
This chance
To go
Stark
Raving
Lunatic
Crazy
Mad
Through the
Good days
Bad nights
Lonely years
Cold armless
Dreams
Beautiful
Pain of
It all
Life
Let it
Break you
And make
You unbreakable
Be whole
And complete
And be
The
Mad
Mad
Mad
You
You were meant
To be
Go crazy
You
*******
Lunatics
Heartache has its privileges...
943 · Jul 2017
wander
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
Stars swimming in
the endless ocean of the night
Lost songs of infinity
dreaming of a forever
that never never ends
And I wander between
the things I never said
and the smile
I can not forget
937 · Mar 2017
starfish ballet
Akira Chinen Mar 2017
She wove life from the threads and fate of dreams and she was and wasn't a dream herself
She had filled the first hourglass with the sand of the desserts of the time before and upon flipping it over set the hands and gears of the first clock in motion
There is no secret buried in the endless depths of the ocean she doesn't know and she was the one that had arranged and named every twinkling orb in the night sky
Using nothing but a small kiss and a sprinkle of magic from the colors of her eyes she brought dead starfish back to life and taught them to dance in the palms of her hands
And when she wasn't choreographing new ballets for the fish in her hands and the stars in the sky
She was collecting lost dreams and broken hearts and suturing the cracks closed and finding them new roads to follow and teaching laughter to the tears they had shed
And if you are every lost between always and heartache if you follow the roads and the sky of the starfish ballet you will find her sitting and waiting to weave you a new day and a new dream and a new fate under the street sign that reads
Oceans End
936 · Jun 2017
the moon of lunatics
Akira Chinen Jun 2017
In the mountains along the paths
of forgotten time hangs the moon
of lunatics
where dance the heretics
of forbidden lust
to the song of eternal love
and truth does spill from rivers red
into bleeding seas
where stars do swim beyond the reach
of modern men of rot and decay
who slave away under pretense
of virtue and sanity
grinding their bones between the gears
of profit
made for war disposable innocence
crack the skull
cage the heart
poison the soul
for a free mind
a wild heart
a living soul
is a danger to the democracy
of this free world we live in
so I say
let the rivers run red with the blood of
presidents and politics
and law makers in expensive three piece suits
and if we are to be ****** and doomed
and force feed death
let it be for dancing with the heretics
along the paths of forgotten time
in the mountains where our corpses will sway
in the winds of truth and love
as we a hang
from the moon of lunatics
935 · Nov 2016
a dream to dream again...
Akira Chinen Nov 2016
I am in the bones of life
The void of light
The final kiss
The end of dreams
The beginning of song
Wrapped in black shrouds
I give you black wings
And set you free to the night
To become a star
a moon
a sun
and a dream
To dream again
and again...
925 · May 2017
stars under the wind
Akira Chinen May 2017
We are just stars under the wind and grace of love
Fish dreaming of mermaids in the river of lost eternity
Children playing at war pretending to be gods
Poets drowning and lost in the sea of the blood of ink
Nothing of nothing in search of everything
920 · Aug 2017
our last breath
Akira Chinen Aug 2017
It's in that first line and first word
and then upon letting it
spill from our fingertips
and letting our minds drift
and our hearts dream
we can find ourselves lost
somewhere in the mists
of illustrated longing
and the seas of painted lust
and the beauty of a monsters heart
and the nightmares sewn
beneath an angels wing
and the tears collected
to print fairy tales
and it's as simple as
the song of children laughing
and as easy as
the hard falling rain of mourning
and as necessary as inhaling
is to exhaling
and it's always there in the air
to breath in and breath out
and it's good and it's bad
and it hurts and it bleeds
and its in everything
that can be beautiful
and all we have to do
is let it fall and spill
and stain and dance
from the fabric of our souls
through the rhythm of our pulse
and out into the world
from that first line
to our last breath
919 · Jul 2016
Thirty-six poems
Akira Chinen Jul 2016
Everyday of being
I fall a little deeper
Every day of falling
I find myself more in
And love has
Never been more
An honor and a privilege
Than being so in love
With you

...

And the words that made
My hands tremble
To write
And my heart fear
You would be
Scared away
Once whispered
And shouted
And put on paper
And sent over mountains
And across seas
Brought a smile
To your lips

...

And now though they still
Send shudders
Through my every fiber
And quake the blood
Within my soul
I ache and long
For each new moment
I can repeat them
And here a moment
Has come again

...

My heart rocks me to dreaming
Singing its sweet lullaby
Of beautiful you
And softly I drift to slumber
As I whisper
To pillows like clouds

...

Sitting on my pillow cloud
Watching my heart
Laugh and dance
With everything
Beautiful about you
I know I am exactly
Where I am supposed to be
As I shout out

...

As cloud and pillow part
To morning light
I can still feel the warmth
Of your ethereal ghost
Dancing in my arms
And before my eyes
Fold open to see the dawn
With my first waking breath
My mouth gently says

...

Open eyes and outstretched limbs
Dreams still lingering
Beneath my skin
Your light and warmth
Still hold my heart and soul
And in the quintessence of my pulse
My every fiber
Reverberates these words

...

Another day has come
Another never never
For the sun
Always always
Burning burning
Its smile
And flame
Dancing endlessly
For the infinite stars
Of your Vincent blues
And I burn in synchronicity
With the blaze and fervor
Of the never never
Ending dancing fires
Of the sun
And I sing all day long

...

My heart a puppy
In your hands
As day fades to night
And night gives birth to day
And effortlessly
This love flows
To endless oceans blue
Where everything beautiful
Is truely found
In you
I take brush to canvas
And pen to page
And paint and scribe
Of another day
I find the good fortune
Of saying

...

The blank pages on my desk
By brush and fold and cut
Fill with color and stars and love
Fold and shape
A flower
A moon
A queen
Little trinkets
Made by hand
And time passing
Through my pulsating blood
As your inspiration
Has set forth this flood
Were I'm drowning
To say again

...

Forevers flower
In full nocturnal bloom
Your hair of crimson flame
Across the endless oceans blue
But your floral petal scent
Still fills my lungs
And lasciviousness
My broken heart museum
Crumbled and burned to ash
As your seeds
Of dreams and hope
Have painted
Inside of me
These words
With every breath
I yearn and must say

...

Time moves to quick
And time moves to slow
Yet every moment endless
When waking in dreams
Of gardens of
Forevers flowers
And honey of golden blood
Placed there be you
And I'm lost
And I'm found
And I'm free
In every moment
I say

...

Free from fears
Of life and death
Tearful flowers
Weep in joy
An oasis springs
Within every essence
Of my soul
And peacful waters flow
As these words
Travel from within
My deepest depths
And sooth throat
And burn as they
Pass my lips

...

Swimming through paradise
Lost to this passion and truth
From my lust for
This most perfect love
From your beautiful imperfections
And iridescent glowing heart
In secret shades of darkest reds
Within the song of
My deathless adoration
Beating in unison
In these amaranthine
Gardens of Elysium
These words immortally echo

...

The chambers of my heart
Turned to Eden and Shangri-la
The utopia of Arcadia
As these echos become
The mantra and the hymn
Of the throbbing pulse
Of my blood
And every cell racing through me
Buzz and hums

...

My heart turned to golden hive
And my blood to truth of gold
And my every drop busy
Making honey sweet
For my one and only queen
The only beauty
My eyes can see
Shines from your heart
And wings
And everday I am grateful
To kneel before you
And speak these words

...

Of paper or of breath
Scattered paint or spilt ink
In living or in death
Beauty is your veracious shadow
Love is the blinding
Light of your soul
Your heart has the
Buried truth
Of what makes
Everything beautiful
And In your presence
I can speak
No other words than

...

My flesh and bones
Hands and fingertips
Have burrowed deep
And lost both blood and sin
In the depths of your earth
And aches and hurt
Uncovering both
The wings and birds
Of your tenderness
Lost so long
In this cold cold ground
I offer warmth
From these words

...

I could do no less
Than place my heart
Where clouds and pillows
Dream and weep
And release the storm
And wind
Raging from within
Let my blood come raining down
With seeds and hope
To nuture and warm
Your heart and ground and dirt
To raise your heart
To its rightful state
Of purity and desire
And passion of the fire
Too beautiful for this world
Too beautiful for my words
But I am helpless
To do anything
But humbly speak them softly

...

Heaven has no Eden
And hell has no flame
Without flowers singing
Or fires dancing
For your name
And my body here
And my heart and spirit
There with you
And I would strech
My soul across
The sun and moon and universe
Just for a wink
Of time
To whisper once again

...

I carved in tree beneath the sea
Where house  
And you did hide
In its branch and leaves
Where sun did dream
Of sleep and mermaids
With fairy wings
Where I first found
Your heart and dark
And truth and ache
And voice and tears
And endless eyes
Of sea of raging blue
And blinding light
Of the lunacy and love
When these words
Where first trapped
Within my throat
Before I dare speak

...

Waiting beneath
These waters deep
Drowning in both
Dream and love
Waiting by star
And moon
And bird
And tree
And poem
And song
And hope
And pictures
And haunting
And longing
To come to you
And speak
With gut churning
And heart burning
These words for you

...

Your every breath
Your every smile
Your every tear
All flow with the blood
And truth of poetry
Your picture
Still hangs above my heart
And every night
Your voice still
Sings your poetry
Before I fall to slumber
Beneath your Vincent stars
And dark blue
And in my sleep
I speak

...

In helpless state
Of repose and trance
I watch words with wings
Chase and dance
My heart that has fallen
To your hypnotic gaze
And sultry voice
The sandman has
No power here
All I can do is paint
With the hands
Of delirium
And trace these words
From star to moon
To heart of flame

...

Under depths
And darkness
My dreams do bind
My soul and heart
To this endless
Storm beneath
The sheets of
Endless time of
Forevers night
Where I am tied
To eternal midnight
Of love and dream
And my footsteps taken
Have left these words
Written in the dust
On the moon

...

To never have to wake
Or take a breath
Outside this
Pleasant dreaming
Let me sleep
Here in this longing
All day long
In eternities twilight
With hand outstretched
Waiting for your fingertips
To slide along my palm
Hand in hand
And give my heart
To you
To forever keep
And dance under sheets
And song of flame
Where to your ear
I slip these words

...

In the devils heart
A song echos of long ago
Before shame or sin
Where your heart
Was bloomed
Long before the gardens
And dreams of Eden
My heart fills with
Only bliss as I listen
To this lullaby
And I am forever
Caught by the desire
Of wanting your affection
I cannot force my heart
To stop beating
Anymore than I can
Stop these words
From repeating

...

I wake with your
Dream and kiss
Still lingering
On my heart and lips
My empty bed
Still warmed by
Your faded ghost
Your voice still
Haunting the morning air
The pulse and beat
Of my soul
And marrow
Repeating
To the dawns first light

...

From countless moons away
Where my heart has flown
To be with you
My chest still full
From dreams of you
And from across
The ocean I hear
My heart sing
These words to you

...

These mad visions
Follow me throughout
My waking hours
And keep my heart
In rapid steps
Of lunatics dancing
As my soul
Cannot stop itself
From laughing
In the truth
Of happiness
I have found
In writting
And whispering
And shouting
These words again

...

As I burn along
In step
With suns
Heart and breath
Your Vincent blues
Mesmerize my heart
With their magic
Swirling stars
And never
Never
Could I stop
Not even after
Death
My song for you
cannot end
You'll find
At the end
Of time
And space
Through the black
And void
My voice still
Resonates
With these words

...

As I fall to death
And to slumber
Dreams wait
Beneath my flesh
And within my bones
Where your light and warmth
Touch my heart and soul
And in the pulse
Of my every fiber
And throughout my being
These words reverberate

...

Pillows take form
And feel of clouds
And welcome moon
And stars
Before my closing eyes
Your ghost begins
Its dance
My hands strech out
To dream
And with the last
Days breath
My lips let whisper soar

...

Sleeping on these clouds
And pillows
My heart dreams
And weeps
Painting with everything
Beautiful about you
Colors echoing
Of secret shades
Of every hue of red
And sculpting
The clouds and pillows
To form these words

...

My heart rocks and
Sings sweet lullaby
Of everything
Perfectly you
And I drift through dream
And listen to
The whispers
Of pillow and cloud
As the softly say

...

Everyday I am
A little deeper
As I fall a little more
And more
And more in love
Never before has such
A blessing been bestowed
Upon my heart
Than being in love
With you
My hands
Still tremble to write
And my heart
Still fears to beat
And the words still
Send shudders
Through the pulse
And blood
Within my soul
Everday and
Every moment
And I am helpless
And I am hopeless
And thankful
For one more
Chance to say

...

I have discoverd
Through ink
And parchment
Paint and canvass
Paper and poem
Pillow and cloud
The miracle of you
Nothing quite as
Lovely or equisite
Beautiful and true
As your hearts warmth
And souls light
As the endless oceans
And Vincent blues
And madness
Swirling in the magic
Of the starry night
Of your eyes
Beyond sands of hour
And hands of time
I will paint
With my every breath
These words
Again and
Again

...

With the
Miracle of paper
And parchment
And stone
Think of all the things
We would not know
If ink and paint and blood
Had not stained vellum
And canvas
And skin
History and fantasy
And love lost
And found
The poems and plays
And battles
Of nations triumphant
And ruined
Lords and their Ladies
Beggars and theives
The bard
And the Muse
All hidden and stored
In shoeboxes
Stuffed with envelopes
Of confessions
And truth
Bounded by hand and stich
Between hard leather covers
Countless pages
That have survived
The relentless sands
Of time
And foul weather
And flood
Long after our flesh
Has rotted and feed the worm
And our bones have
Dissipated to earth and gust
Paper will still
Hold the secrets
And history
Of love
The miracle of paper
Stained by the pen
moved to dance
In my hand
As I scrawl your name
And confess

*I Love You
I started an art project a little over a month ago and knew it would eat up most of my free time, I didn't picture having much if any time to write... so before I started I wrote this out in one sitting and cut it into 36 segments to post one a day... the project is still in works and will most likely take another month or two... but working on it has to this point only helped it writing more instead of less... blah blah blah mmmyep
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