A friend I've never seen -
Waving and smiling and laughing.
Hiding all sorrows away
Beneath faint morning smiles.

I dreamt her in the evening...
That same gesture expressed.
Too much of blissfulness
Haunting in excess.

I never saw her again -
Unseen in visions, visible in seams.
Thoughts chide this empty room
As placid as the nighttime chills.

Love, what have I to do with thee?
We parted in the dewy heat of yesterday
Yet yearning remains, echoing
Till time runs short, grieving
Amidst a crown of stars.

Gone for moments to pass,
Bleeding hearts die and fade away.
Freely, invisibly;
It stutters plainly in verses
After the thrill is gone.

There's a sullen word
Written on my windowpane
Though my eyes can't see
At a glance far
From the distance
Of viewing.

Maybe scribbles of street children
Creeping the panels
Kept the glass sheets
Full with designs
Of hand markings
Able to confuse my soul
With my thoughts.

Is it really
The four-letter-word
That has denied me
Of life?
My eyes do not lie though.

True.
The sights are keen.
But the feeling?
No.

I could only remember
Anagrams of the word,
The consonants
And its vowels.

An evening out with myself.
The works of the night's been idle.
Star-filled skies view silence
With tranquil dreams of vice.

Creepy winds doth blew my ear.
Fear - the vast aura of mind.
Shadows spill darkness' cup
Of wickedness' demise.

Plainly seeking her still,
The love I had confide.
Out in the dark, had I seen her?
Out there, her form, out there.

"Come closer dear." A voice speaks.
I recall her words last time.
The moon seems bitter at this binding stage.
She's dead, but her form deceives my eyes.

I'll play thief
To the home
Of a rich man
And steal
Malt for my
Bitterness and ale
For the happiness
That was kept
In the mug
Of paupers.

These ingredients
Are a lot cheaper
On sidewalks
But mansions store
The most flavorful:
Bitterness
From the source
That stings
On the plate
Of paupers.

Bitter ways come
In bridal suits.
Do these clothes fit?
Judging my looks can be
Quite a hard task.
These sleeves are a bit shorter
Than my worn out tuxedo
Dumped inside the *****
Of my closet. Will anybody
Lend me something?
She's waiting.
The ceremony has begun
And I still can't find
The right clothes
For the occasion.

Can I call you mine?
I guess not.
It took me some time
To realize this fact.

Smiles reassure second chances
But never will it
Blossom and bloom.

Lady, I am weary.
Induce me a deep sleep
And allocate my fears.

Though I call you mine;
Your heart,
With aggravations,
Will never be.

We now live two lives
that cannot connect.

Married... with children...

I guess it has to be
Goodbye again.

It should have been
Way better
If I never have met you.

How untimely
And harsh it is
That fate still leads me
Back to you!

I played the game with a smile.

Pawns suppressing the move
Made by my hand for the king.
A mistake, and it's all over.

Checkmate.

The king couldn't move neither direction
For the opponent's difficulty,
But rather an invitation of defeat
Spurned with soldiers left looking
At a king's dethronement.

No more.

I lost to a mere
Enticement
Of a Queen.

Darkness, can I talk
To you for a moment?

You must be what light
Conveys yo to be -
Lonely and desperate.

Still as the tides of the ocean,
You waited for the chance
That could bring midnight alive,
But but in vain.

All's left was
The shadow of an unloving star,
Destitute and barren.

So it is like when I met her.

So it is like.

She smiled
When I turned away.

Death devours, truth denies
Like blades of ****** swords.
Cravings killed, deception spilled...
Beware the ****** gore!
In depths of rime and falsehood reason
The world's at one with evil.
You born, you die in senseless treason
With hordes to rock the cradle.

As soon as life departs your pores
Defaced, the soul wears black.
At points where blackened candles rule
There's no road to turn you back.
Where's the path, a lightened highway?
All's just tormented, framed.
The life I live, where is it heading?
Nowhere. A mindless game.

The actors play the life of men:
Of rulers, knights and kings.
But no one plays the part of jesters
So why should i believe?
Meaningless schemes, meaningless dreams -
A stage that life beguiled.
Death devoured, truth denied
The life I tried to find.

Chinaware arranged
On a dining table -
A spectacle of silver
And breakables.

The clock strikes another hour
Yet no figure enthrones itself
At the opposite side
Of my seat.

Clutching my eyes
To the staircase
Of the chamber,
I wait patiently...

Though the food have gone cold.

Don't want to be
Swept away
Far, far from
Your arms.

Your return.
I plead
Reminiscing
Your touch.

Can't understand
But actions
Tell me
I love you too much.

You are encased
In a dream,
No way to pry and find
Its sealed treasuries.

These I have been using:
Clips, pens, knives and edges.

Can you read
The ambiguity
Donned by my actions?

Give me the key then
To unlock my aspirations.

He packed his things as he go
Towards a decaying silence.
In tune to the cricket's cry
He ascended into acres
Only desolation has seen.
"A glistening of thoughts." He told himself.
Living couldn't pry the wastelands of life.
"To remote lands where I'll be wandering
The dusk and dawns of time."
The voice in his mind is still.
Too bitter - his conscience.
"Receive me in thy death-bed!"
The last words of a heavy heart
Accentuates in darkness.

Evening comes
And the day
Grows dim.
Tired of
Illusions
From a setting sun
As the routine
Continues:
Sunrise,
Sunset;
But the skies
With its clouds
Intact.

I bid thee farewell
Not by choice,
But for need.
Taking memories away
Would be much bitter
If goodbyes are not said
A little bit sooner.

I've done my fair share
Of wholehearted giving.
Not because of reason
But all because of meaning:
The definition of the heart
And its profound measure
Of understanding.

Seeing you falter
Involves quite a pounding
My tears could never grasp.
The upcoming grievance
Would be the most pitiful
For thoughts to comprehend
And for life to consider.

For choice or for need -
Not one or both would matter.
Imparted flames will never cease
The pain that scars forever

Though the wound in my heart
Should someday heal
The ravish misconception
Your warmth conceals.

For a friend I write.
For a friend I rhyme.
For a friend I'll raise my pen
And show her things I find
A little pleasing, kind and sweet;
Though my heart broke down
In successive trilogy:
The love, the life and the soul
On someone else I've known
Ages and ages ago.

A poem you say,
This is all I could give -
A little stale in verses,
A little plain in creed:
"A friend of mine, you've always been.
A friend I'll always crave.
A friend that brightens my day
And brings me smiles and ease!"
But I can scribe no more.
These verses are all fed up.
My timid brain, my wounded heart,
Has left me torn apart.

Of all the things, I ask of you,
Am I the one to know
That love devours completely
When once the truth unfolds?
Fathom it well, I know you can.
You know how women think
When one says to a desperate lad:
"Go away, for heaven's sake!"

Now I'll end it all here.
I'm tired, though a bit restless.
Thanks for sparing some precious time
To hear my hopeless crisis.
I'll end it all with a heavy heart
And hope you'll understand
That my rhyme has not yet come
To scribe the Fairy Lands.

Joyful at the moment...
Desperately hanging on
To former dedications
Never to return.
Every now and then
They seem to pass by,
Retracting every alteration
Of letting lie outgrow
The sediments and bits
Once possessed by the heart.

I try to walk
In this garden of youth
To see if it will hone me,
Take me in and guide me.

Flowers on the aisle
Walk me be the side
As I gaze my eyes
To its vivid life.

I noticed a lone breed -
A **** quite so strange;
Ugly to my eyes,
Yet strong in pure scent.

I asked the gardener
Why keep such a thing
And ruin the spectacle
Of this beautiful garden.

He laughed out loud
And said to me: "My son,
It grew on its own
To catch the warm sun.

"I've let it be
For it need not tending
Unlike these **** roses
Who need babysitting."

I stared awhile
In wonder and awe.
This ugly ****, I realized
Should be my guide after all.

Gave my words to a spy
Then off she goes.

Greed.

Bound for heaven
Hereafter.

Can't lie
With my eyes,

I barely
Recover.

To me
You are
The heating sun,
Giver of life,
Shower of warmth.

I am
To you
The iceberg
Melting.

Have I been
Rich
Of heaven's currency
I would have bought
Your smile.

Too bad I've been
Poor and weary.
My heart can only
Lean and
Sigh.

Have I not been
Vulnerable
To your vague
And indecisive
Smile, I would
Have received
My broad share
Of inheritance.

Split choices to choose
But I rather
Stay free;
Part for part,
Dime for dime,
I must accept
The longing
Of defeat.

I died the time when love was born.
I died, you see, I died.
If there's one thing that ever kills,
That thing is love inside.
'Cause feelings plain and simple spent
Are sane to be rejected.
A thing or two to show the scar -
Death in love was stated.

For when was it considered true?
For when, I ask, for when?
That those who loved be rendered spites
In view of love's content?
I died, I say, I died again;
The words are pale in meanings.
I died deceived, misled, forsaken
My heart's bound up believing.

I have to wait for her
Right after that low-priced meal -
Food offered by my coin purse.

It has to go on like this
Now, until the end of the hours;
At five for my next chance
To fetch her and go home...

Fare coming out
From my torn, thin pockets.

I sought her words, but in vain.
Me seek'est her haplessly.
I hath been mute all these years.
No sign of love, yet it did languish,
Assail'd at a time to capture mine
As the soul who wail'd a thousand tears.

My words she ne'er tried heark'ning.
Resonance made still and lame.
Tatter'd notions, worded be
Abhorring yearnings of friendship's bond.
The last letter, 'tis where it'll end;
Years of joy, though for her means nothing.

'Tis now the soul's been cheated -
Loving her who loves not me.
'Though silence dost cleanse the tears,
Time will never ease anxiety
Expounded by a heart forsaken'd
Of its innermost rimes and meaning.

Mom used to make me
Dry loaf of bread
In my rusted tin box,
Water,
To ease me the drought
Of schooling.

My age drew back
Decomposing tears.
Too late now
For nursery rhymes.

Up in the heavens
Over this mortal plane...
Watch me glide with hovered wings.

I can feel the winds rush
Around this surreal fin
Of satin paper, wooden frame;
Lifting up my hollow skin.

Be my navigator.
The tides of the air restrict me.
Take my hand through the skies...
I can only fly by your gentle love strings.

Lady, it is not me
Who keeps vivid
My partiality.

I envy the dark half
That covers your skin,
The shadow
That shapes
Your delicate form.

Have I seen you lately
Gliding passively
Around my dream
Or is it just
Another occurrence
To come by and let me
Cherish away eternity?

Calm my heart
And let my eyes
***** upon your mane.

You're not mine
Yet I still crave
The excitement
And convulsion
Of little chat lines.

Ain't that much
Heavy heart to bear,
But the make-believe
Enchantment
Of my dying spirit.

Lady Luck approached me.
Lady Luck waved goodbye.

Two short years of "warmth-ness",
Two long years of lies.

"Love is for suckers." I believe him.
The old man's words were true.

If only I believed him then,
That day when I'm in rue...

Morning wakens
To cradle lost souls
Bonded
By its hand.

Undoubtedly,
It touches the wound
Branded
On my skin.

The pain rests awhile
And drudges itself
Among the numbness
Of scars.

Whenever I see
Mothballs rolling over
To sublime inside
The ***** of
My closet,

I reach in
And touch its coarseness,
The roughness of size;

How come it withdrew
Itself to the world
By shrinking its
Speculations.

Strange though,
but a thought
Came to my mind:

Its state
Is similar
To a feat
Such as mine.

I spied on my beloved
Whom I henceforth met
After such a long silence.

She wore herself white clothing
And deep blue trousers
To captivate my being.

I recall it was not she
Who wounded my heart
And barred my life completely.

New one? The scars haven't mend.
But I think I'll try
Until this episode ends.

Never knew
How to pray.
Fold hands...
Lower my head...
Utter words...
Never knew those.
My silence speaks
Not as prayer
But whimpers.

No ordinary stranger
Seeks me breathing.
Resentment
And discontent
Shelves his grieving.

Asking alms' say
Ere reckoning's claim:
Reprisal
Of refusal
Calls out my name.

Not that I am selfish
But true, I am unkind.
To that extent
Of stale moment
I have been blind.

One who flies away
Never returns, saddening
All what matters most
In a deranged life
Of individuals. Bitter
Words have enough say
As grief speaks in a similar
Tongue, plainly in blank
****** expressions with
No feeling whatsoever.
Only the recurring image
Of wings flapping stay
Undisturbed of life's decoy.

Remotely anticipate.
Change the wings that harness flight.
Await the time to answer questions
Of unwanted graveyard spirits
And fate's Underlying disguise.

Slowly visualize the past.
Foresee truth to reckoning.
The slumber's finally been disturbed
To show scenes of passive living
By hampering details of life.

Slowly recall the mourning.
Mend the wings of lost grievings.
Wounds deprive the soul its feelings
And keeps it sacred in its arms
To free the life of empty minds.

She peddles on the street
Gold and silver laces
At minimal costs.
Brilliant stones, rubies
Pile up her portable stall;
Neither for rent nor for sale
But in exchange of the love
More priceless
Than gemstones.

Retail consumption
Seems all mixed up.
I can't recall
If those clusters
Are real,
Not just ornaments
On sidewalk trenches.

Pale kings and warriors
Play part in castles
Named life and death and creed,
Hailing servant majesties
Upon slaves and heretics
Adverse in competence.

A jester speaks up,
Detesting comic duties
Implored by tyrant rulers
Of life and death and creed,
Requesting majesties
Implored by slaves and heretics.

Pinpoint me
Towards light
For its passage
Is never visible.

Shun death
And take my hand
For the eternal travel
Of souls.

The place is dark.
I can't walk with my own
Guiding lamp, no more oil
Left to burn.

Someone dropped a pen.
His name was Prose.
"Write." Said he.
"Use it to bind ideas
With its tears as the rope."
So I tried.
But my strength
Rattles on his weight.

"Let me interfere."
Said Poetry.
"Scrape what you have done
And let your heart
Do the talking."
So I did.
Now I speak
In deeper linings.

Quite a while
I tried to please you
With my heavy look
And perilous smile.

I am gone now
Though thoughts remain unclear:
The vibrant promise
But heartless vow.

I, Yellow.

No different
Than others.

Whites on Whites...

Blacks on Blacks...

Browns on Browns...

Racism.

How will it be
When the tie
Binds

Diverging colors?

The day had been shimmered
Through the pain...
Through the pain.
To the eyes once mingled
The elderly claim
Of love billed so soothing
Yet crouched down so low
For a wishful thinking
Of heavenly snow.

For years it's been silenced
In a dream,
In a dream.
No one could uncover
The thoughts to redeem
Of love billed so soothing
But crouched down so cold
A heart set for bidding
To be bought and sold.

It's just a state of mind.
One must approach a lady
In phases;
Expressing the love
In words careful
Of retrieving
And believing.
All in a glance
She answers.
The fight for meaning
Is being swiveled
By love's renaissance.

I plant the seed
That was hatred
To let it grow
Towards the clouds
Bringing forth
My anger.

Look, it grew
Tall as the
Acacia wood -
Strong, sturdy
And stable.

She doesn't call.
Quite a long while
Silence beckons her

I stroll along my fears...
Does she possess
Thoughts of me?

Can't blame her though.
She's busy
That's all I know.

Wise men tell their tales
Of yesteryear
With vigor and pride
To youngsters and noblemen
In accordance
With their passion
To teach.

Fools tell their stories
Of mockeries
With evil and filth
To ascertain encomium
In accordance
With their pleasure
To scorn.

Young ones keep silent
And understand
As the words are drawn
From both the fool and the wise
In accordance
With their desire
To learn.