Climactic Poet

Climactic Poet Apr 2017

I am a mother.
I am no ordinary mother.
I have an overwhelming number of daughters
they fill as far as your eyes can see.

I have countless sons.
They all came from me.

I am the wealthiest mother, you see.
I have the largest pearls stored somewhere
beneath me.

Gold, diamonds, rubies?
I have them hidden somehere you can't find.

You must think I am the most beautiful woman
to have a billion children.

Unfortunately,
I can't say the same.

My children have pulled my hair
My once luscious green hair.

My children infiltrated my blood.
My once crystal clear blood.

My children have grown wise.
So they left me to die.

They haven't forgotten me though.
They remember me when they feel like they need to be beautiful
They dig up my diamonds, they collect my pearls.
And after they are done digging,
they will leave me to crumble down

They remember me when they need a house.
They would get my trees, and everything they can find.
After chopping through, they will leave my balding head behind.

Sometimes I wonder if my children will still remember me
when I have nothing left to give.

My name is Earth.
I am a mother.
I am no ordinary mother.
I am no ordinary Mother Earth.
I am no ordinary mother...
until
I won't be a mother anymore.

Climactic Poet Mar 2017

Hatespeech

You.
Are a condescending,
lying,
cheating,
*******.

And
I wish I will never
ever
end up
anywhere close
to who you are

You
think you deserve
all the love in the world
because you did
a little good.

You don't.

It's not
enough that you
give me something
to justify the way
you take all
that is mine.

You
are my father.
but to me,
you are nothing.

You
lost your worth
the day you did not choose me
you did not choose us.

You
chose to throw
twenty-five years away
for a woman
you met on the street
on Sunday.

I
hate you.
I don't know
how you wake up
in the morning
kissing my mother
in the cheek.
When you know
by dark
you kiss another woman's
lips.

You
are worse than Judah
who killed himself
after betraying Jesus.

I
caught you.
but you chose
to be better
at hiding.

I hope you die.

You don't deserve
to be loved.

*******,
dad.

So my dad is cheating on my mom, whose father is terminally ill. There's no one else in the household who knows except me. My dad knew I found out, but he never came clean. This means he chose to let me be in the position to save his ***.I hate him. I want to tell my mother but I don't think she can handle losing two men in her life in just one year.

To all the cheating men and fathers: Please note that there are people like me who are affected in this situation. I want to **** myself sometimes, but I think about my younger siblings when this blows up.

#cheating

Climactic Poet Mar 2017

Perfect Night

The night is cold
But my tea is still hot
The sheets are soft
My toes are frozen

The world outside
Is buzzing around
But I'm right here
Lying in bed

With a good book
resting in my palms
And the rustling leaves
calling my name.

I take a sip from my cup
One less page to read for the night
I bury myself under the sheets
and finally, I sleep in peace.

This is how I put myself to bed every night

Climactic Poet Mar 2017

To the child I will never have...

My utter frustration
lies with you,

the child I will never have...

You may come to life,
But I bet you will not.

Either way,
I would like you to understand why
So you won't have to ask me
haunt me
coerce me
force me
hurt me
lambast me.

I want you to understand.
I am not having you,
not because I don't love you.

I actually am not having you
because I do.

You see, honey.
I can never be a mother.
I want to be
but I just can't.

I cannot put you through
the same emotional turmoil
that made me decide
not to have you in the first place.

I cannot bear the idea
of raising you in the wrong way
because I have no idea what the right way is.

I cannot let you suffer
the same wounds that I had
as I tried to survive this life.

I cannot let you live.

I cannot
because if I do,
you would hate me so much
you won't even let me lick your wounds
the wounds I would have probably given you.

So honey,
I hope you understand.
I love you too much to let you go through me.
I am a wreck and I know it.

I am also sorry.
Sorry for not giving you a chance.
to live.
to breathe.
to run.
to play.

to live.

Your mommy,
your nonexistent mommy,
has gone so much pain,
heard so much bad words
it's all overflowing
from her mouth.

And honey,
she doesn't wanna let you hear them.
she will never let you hear them.

Don't worry, my baby.
No matter how much I wish to have you here.
I'll fight it.

To save you.
From me.

Because I love you.

This is my message to the child I will never have

Climactic Poet Mar 2017

To the person who weighs me down...

You.
Of all people,
should understand me.

You.
Of all people
should know that I am weak

But
That is how you play the game
You poke at my weaknesses
You point out my mistakes

And
Though you know I'll crash and burn

Still
You choose to do the same.

But
To you who weighs me down,
I have no words to say.

Since
I see past your hurtful words

I
Find pain behind your rage

So
I will try to understand

I
Will trust that you will find peace

I
Will wait until you see me through

Because
That is the only thing left to do

Climactic Poet Dec 2016

Rust

Maybe I have matured,
maybe I have outgrown writing stories,
maybe I have buried even the thought of creative writing
beneath the disgusting idea of education
- so utilitarian, and functional.

I grieve the loss of creativity in my head.
I used to think that it will always be around the corner,
that these skills will probably stick around.
Unfortunately, I have grown enough to realize that incrementally,
what little skills of mine shall soon leave my feeble body
before I even know it,
simply because I have forgotten to use them altogether.

I don't know where to begin from here.
I don't even know what to write next.
Sadly, I don't even know what to write for my fictional characters,
and just like me,
they are stuck in a havoc of confusion and unfinished stories.
Just like me,
they are lost in a fictitious land where there's no way forward
Just like me,
my stories stare at the vast darkness and wonder...
When?
Why?

And just like this poem...

#EternallyUnfinished

#lost #story #wander #reading #write

Climactic Poet Nov 2016

Perso

I don't fit in anywhere.
Not with random people,
Not with acquaintances,
Heck.
Not even with my family

However,
It's sick, and yet comforting
that I fit with you.

No matter how many times
you have ruined me

I still fit into you.

It's plain and bland but
just by thinking of you,
I survive.
No. I don't thrive
But at least I survive.

I hate how you know me so well
that even when we're not together anymore
You know my heart is yours.
Still yours.

I hate that you're happy.
I hate that you're happy without me.
I hate that you now fit somewhere.
Somewhere I will never belong.
It's just as if you have excluded me on purpose

I hate that no matter how hard I try
I will never fit into you again.

But that's okay.
Maybe it's even for the best.
It's humiliating
It's agonising
But hey...

You can come back to me
Whenever you feel like
You don't fit in anymore.

Perso means "lost" in Italian

#fit