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 Aug 2013 izzat haziq
phantasmal
your eyes are
fathomless chasms
and i find myself falling
once in a while
the way alice tumbled
down the rabbit hole

you are a
paradoxical metaphor
representing every bright spectrum
of my gray-tinted universe

i count shooting stars
and dandelions
sometimes i even think
i see your smile in the
constellations

are you the wisps of clouds
on a particularly rainy day?
drifing with no direction
i often reach out to you
though i never seem to grasp you

perhaps to me
it's as if you are
everywhere
but i can't seem to find you
anywhere

- - -
 Aug 2013 izzat haziq
phantasmal
what is life about?
sometimes it's impossible not to doubt
and what of those who sell
their souls to dwellers in hell?
we grow up defining right and wrong
their words almost a prayer song
there comes a time when we no longer believe
the ingrained reasons there for delusional relief

why are we so afraid
to declare past stereotypes dead?
we know we shouldn't question
things such as religion
it's natural to just accept
and yes, we've done just that
but are opinions from different perspectives
really as deadly as explosives?

is heaven really in existence
or a lie to forbid any resistance?
we realize much more as we grow
the things we shouldn't even want to know
they say we're here for a purpose
are you sure life isn't but a repetitive curse?
maybe the stars making up the constellation
are souls who have failed in reincarnation

perhaps only those closer to death—
those who are left without breath
maybe they know every answer
the answers to the things we wonder
they merely have no time
to repent for their mediocre yet grave crime—
this world holds an endless grudge
especially towards those who judge
so why are they hiding the truths
hiding them from next generation's youths?

- - -
some things in life i ponder about every time.
maybe some answers would be good.
answers would be good.
 Aug 2013 izzat haziq
Emma S
...
 Aug 2013 izzat haziq
Emma S
...
Only four more days until it starts again
A new hell
Filled with new people

I can't wait to see all the eyes
Judge me from head to toe
I hate new people

They give you one look
And think they know
Everything

But in reality
They don't know
Anything
 Aug 2013 izzat haziq
Harsh
1.15 am
 Aug 2013 izzat haziq
Harsh
3.00 am, the witching hour,
when people wake up screaming
panic stricken and weeping
praying for a lost soul somewhere
yet completely unaware
that an hour an forty five minutes ago
cupid died by drowning
in a tall glass of something strong
into which a young lass was crying.
Every dawn at this very time
he chokes on ***** or cigarette smoke
straight after posting
a suicide poem she wrote.
As his heart beat slows
eyes close
no one notices no one knows
incidentally another John Doe.
Disturbed by love songs
all night long
rocking back and forth
losing all control
she inevitably gives in
and revives him
only to watch him die again
the next day at 1.15 am
This poem is the sole property of me and cannot be copied or used without permission. [Copyright G.H. Rodrigo 16/08/2013]
The night started slow, riddled with excitement.
Soon everything came together to light the way like lightning.
Simple plants, changed the nature of everything around us.
Everything had life, and was there to astound us.
Posters became 3-dimensional works that played with imagination.
Upon closing eyes, we were gone, lost in fascination.
Never was there fear, and everything had proper circulation
To show us that everything is intertwined.
Two souls that night were able to effortlessly unwind.
Sometimes I would giggle as I examined my own mind.
But it helped me see that I'm now powerfully redefined.
Little crystals on green bulbs of beauty disappeared into our chests.
Blow it out slow with control and let go of any stress.
Winds of change were growing, and our tree danced for us.
A milestone in our friendship these happenings were a must.

Everything had elegance, from the way the world would sway
To the way, I knew exactly what to say.  
Punch lines and good times had us laughing.
Such raw, pure energy, creating moments everlasting.
Philosophically speaking, we were retreating into places of higher power.
Once the caps and stems were gone we had bloomed into majestic flowers.
Melted in our environments, in harmony with each other,
As our solo melodies played and were soaked into each brother.
Stimulating conversations about the universal energy matrix,
Elevated on magic, we got our wondrous fix.
An influx of synapse firing sparked a rewiring of who we are.
Bodies completely relaxed, mesmerized by stars.
The moon was a goddess looking over us,
As we gazed in awe of her aura.
Faces changing constantly, but with eye-contact we had a God moment.
Spectacles morphed so fast there was no way to really hold it.

Confidence was off the page as the scenes I was conducting,
Switched from stage to stage.  
Every line by us improv actors was perfect as if predetermined.
I knew the right time, I never in my life have been so absolutely certain.
Fields of energy drew us in as our experience fluctuated between scenes.
Though sometimes I was enjoying what was going on internally so much so,
That we both had periods where we wouldn't speak.
The levels of creativity increased as I was realizing inner potential climbing to our peaks.
Outwardly, we may've seemed goofy
But we experienced something mystical, all by our own choosing.
My rhymes of the mind came out on time
And fit in with every line of conversation.
Whether we wanted to move or not was the only contemplation.
A loving memory was shared across the span of many hours, complete with soul restoration.
I never before, cherished the reflection of myself more.
In the bathroom with eye eclipses, the rain that is bliss, poured.
Hallucinations were fully engaged, and roared
Across my landscape, where my wildlife continued to grow.
So much information to process, we could vaguely share the overflow.
Sometimes words were not needed, the symbols needn't be portrayed.
Feeling near complete with psilocybin inside, as the compounds together played.
Dancing on a rollercoaster in the depths of my heart,
For awhile Daft Punk was playing as we jived in the dark
We were in absolute sync with every happening.
With kaleidoscopic visions and topics flowing,
Higher frequencies within us were amassing.

One long song, a perfectly scripted movie.
Special effects so intricate, deep and moving.
All wounds felt healed, both deep scars and minor bruising.
I was beyond myself, tasted a touch of cosmos drip in me.
Perfectly placed with perspective overlapping like sacred geometry.
Chemistry changes were made as we meshed with biology.
On the brief, forever journey, I believe I could see all of me.
Within realms within realms, the sea of consciousness is where we delved.
To realize all we ever needed, was ourselves.
Too hungover to sleep,
Third eye too clouded to see into my dreams.
More broken glass from the night that's passed,
Dealing with questionable decisions that amounted up pretty fast.
Soreness to adorn my body with more colors that can be observed
Health withering and so I head to Mother's nature preserve.

I wonder what I do to my nerve endings,
While I take on all that's mind-bending,
To eventually open it back up.
Seeing a world through more than just squinted eyes
Situations shed light the more you try.
My body is hurtin' but in the woods I come alive,
revitalize, and realize where I'm meant to be through what I can perceive.
The beauty I capture with my scopes on the daily makes think I'm living a dream.

Time to show my wildflower,
Outside with the fresh oxygen that I will devour.
I've given myself signs that point to my true power.
Now, no time to sit,
Gotta make the most of what could be my last hour
 Aug 2013 izzat haziq
cursed
kill
 Aug 2013 izzat haziq
cursed
I thought of anything that could **** me
Hate,
Love,
Pressure,
Trust,
Friends,
Maybe everything.
Maybe it won't **** me in weeks to come
Maybe one year,
Two years or more
Maybe never,
You won't know, right?
I have never been a religious soul but I found a cathedral in my bedroom in the form of your body hardening beneath the white linens attached to my mattress. It was the perfect combination; I'd begin on my knees between your thighs and sin again and again in the form of sliding you down my throat, and then I would crawl up your body and sit on your lap and rock back and forth as I prayed for redemption. I never knew grace until you pressed your kiss to my breast and I never felt a revelation until you tucked your hand inside me for safe-keeping and wouldn't remove it until my whole body was shaking. And because I have never been a religious soul I fear that I cannot promise to return to this cathedral but I'll be ****** if I don't burn it down before I go.
OCD
I never suspected I had OCD
Until I replayed your voicemail
On the answering machine
A total of twelve times
Every evening
Just to hear your voice again
Or until I opened your dresser drawer
Thirty times
Before I went to bed
Just so I could smell
Your leftover scent
Wafting into the air
Or until I rearranged my shoes
In the closet four times
Before I left the house
Because you hated tripping over them
On your way out
But I knew I didn't have OCD
When I finally locked the door
And turned off the light
And made the bed on your side
For the very last time.
Inspired by the OCD poem performed by Neil Hilborn.
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