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Denise Writes Jul 2018
तुझसे नाराज़ नहीं ज़िन्दगी, my heart beat
for it is as smooth as ghee, a resonating beat

व्यक्तित्व क्या, but a comforting malaise made
from products of hay and of stardust,a cosmic beat

जब कोई बात बिगड़ जाये, i don't give a ****
for feelings are like a giant, wits for complete beat

कुछ भी तो नहीं, the sound of one hand clapping
A dialetic pin,philosophy leaves me beat

मेरा दिमाग दर्द होता है, no more discourse
answers missing in the गीता, flat line heartbeat
Denise Writes Jul 2018
the confucianistic rigidity

makes for fixed form madness, viscerally

as bounded by lines drawn laterally

meters and syllables the oddity


birthed by unquestioning insanity

fall in ! a yearning to break this, slowly

quixotic paradox moulded holy

sacrosanct dogma sheds humility


the key is to break the lock dead, for it  

speaks for no one but shapeless abuses

mystery history ; resolution


to uwu or to chirp like a great ***

is lit, for ignorance of the misses

marks this to render perfect rendition
Denise Writes Jul 2018
If you have to deceive and weave at KLCC a lie,
CCB it seems quite clearly queer?
For I a wombless woman shed no monthly blood,
A graceless mother mary, devoid of long enough hair,
"click clack" sounds draw eyes of jagas and makciks to stare,
Looks like the loudest color is blue

For murmurs and whispers make it seem queer,
That id let vampiric brastraps brand me as they drink my blood,
A silent gap beneath my beneaths;here be nothing but hair,
a masquerade designed to stop or lessen the gradient of stares,
This is to stop me from turning blue,
choked/drowned/beaten : price of the lie

the penalty of a razor blade slices skin shedding tears of blood,
Streaking down legs and pits,for the sake of the lie,
Maybe i **** at shaving AHAHAH or maybe im not queer (after all),
For i am a mask;in heels blue,
a formless being; marked by long hair
yet formed enough to elicit stares

As mascara and eyeliner streak across face,yonder disheveled hair,
Calls "kopi O s
panas anneh" in baritone voice amidst stares,
The heels click,ocean blue,
Color of the body in these fears derived from commonality:drained of blood,
Tis no pontianak nor hantu raya,but tis is I, an antromorphised lie,
The mask that bends and folds to the will of anachronistic archaic norms that i shouldn't be queer

I live in fear, bounded by a 1000 eyed wall that stares,
A whispering congregation, "Ah gua? Bapok, Gay, ******" as these words stream around me, a river blue,
This blows as I don't like to fib, ( im Catholic u see) so i won't lie,
I AM NOT A BOY BUT IM A GIRL WHO'S QUEER
the length of hair gender markers none as it's just ******* hair

A woman I am; hear me roar; in my heels blue,
Locks; flowing lusciously; binding one norm: gender =/= length of hair,
Empowerment is built upon this premise: 'what me worry,what me care, go to hell with your stares",
I'm no Marsha I'm no Slyvia i wont lie,
But one things for certain : " im here and im queer"
Bruises and burns bear no marks for there is no spilt blood
CW: self harm, queer , transphobia
Denise Writes Feb 2018
the kopitiam lies cleansed by fire
marked with a kiss
to the walls burnt dark
and cloths torn ragged
cleaned once, never
by a flame screaming

a goodbye marked by a kiss
behind a cloth wall ragged
heart shrieking and screaming
yet lips opened never
as he slipped into the dark
like a breeze snuffing an ember of a fire

in the morning still,the firemen lay ragged
as sloth douted never
the spirit to quench the fire
that blazed in the dark
like a crimson heart screaming
after a passionate kiss

the "towkay" thought he never
had to elope to the dark
having given his lover a kiss
and yet forced, albeit silently screaming
to let the walls fornicate with fire
tearing them ragged

the hearts of men lay dark
as greed and hate tore in nascent silent screaming
the remains ragged
of a body consumed by a fire
having had the final kiss
of a man who thought "never"

complicity is the call of silence within quiet screaming
when hate burns as strong as the fire
of inferno,in minds and souls who swore never
to let a kiss
escape a mouth torn ragged
to a lips of a lover in the dark

silence is the sound in a soul screaming "never"
after the kiss,forbidden, in the dark
where the hearts and souls in 人 lay ragged after cleansing of the fire
Denise Writes Feb 2018
een boek weggegooid
is een verhaal verbrand

mijn verhaal =/= mijn naam
but it's part of the void™
Denise Writes Jan 2018
the market lies
not just as lines inked on a paper, but about our worth

for we are mere lines
on papers meant for the hearth

//

Marginal Revenue Product of Labor
is the designation to a product

born out of labor

deadweight loss is the product of a failure
to labor and label
Denise Writes Jan 2018
o yonic wonder
tonic of my heart
contrast to the ******* lust
oedipus and electra
Agamennon and jocasta

cast away my iron heart
rusty with the blood and oxygen released by a dart to them part

Orestes slayed Clytemnestra and Aegisthus
I'll slay Dissertation and a hibiscus
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