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Penne Sep 23
She likes to rip
Her body is to ****

Her perfume was bought at 8:59pm
She wore no undergarments

Except for her armor of steel gray Peau de Soie
Look like she just came from a ménage à trois
This was set on Reading
Yet her accent is smoking 1950s Chicago

Her presence drips in the room

A drop of blood spotted on her left cheek

An educated woman
Who read every encyclopedia
Just to do a Noh and tango

I wonder
You wonder

Who the hell she is

As she turned right,
the townsmen cannot help but ask,
"What is she doing at this night?"

Was she a long, little, lonely island?
A concubine who recently lost her spine ?
A tradesman of katanas and blades ?
The lady in golden dress who danced with you at that  bar?
Is it the chemicals of her anatomy?

A person of mystery

Did she even exist
A ring of gold on her ring finger
NPA


Swinging red and flashlights
Footsteps coming closer and closer
As she was arrested for ******
She died in front of them

Without a word

Without a sound
Penne Sep 10
i don't die
i'm always by your side from the beginning
i'm born to live in a wringer
and people think that is cool

the thinner, the winner
bear more

keep me as a critter
never know when i will be dormant
but i won't sleep and slip away from you

but i'm always by your side from the beginning
that's how things are made to be
i could be lying on the moss, lichen, trenches

all places that drive you crazy
extremes

scorching heat of hell
to the most nightmarish winter of your existence

despite being only a microorganism
like how you view all living things around you

yet one micro problem can **** you
while i'm here; just crawling, breathing for millions of years

and still waiting to be acknowledged that my species exist
what are you looking for
when i'm just around the corner

everywhere
even in in the galaxy
even only for ten days

i don't die
since once i dry, drown me in water and i will be alive again

The more it kills you, makes me more alive
Just like water, i'm versatile

i don't die

i never will

then when?
Penne Aug 19
It is currently raining on my country
And I need to study in a hurry
For I have exams tomorrow
But I cannot help but be mesmerized by the storm's flow
Carrying me away in its mythic sorrow
As the water splash and bounce off,
Earth lifts up
And its music takes off

I am currently lying then sitting up and lying again on my bed
Typing this poem on my phone above my head
This is turning me red
Since it always had to be test days where I lose my focus
And just wanted me a rest


The chill softens up to your bone
The convecting air spins
With my blue silk curtains
Against my mint green walls
The comfort is contagious until it reaches to your homes
Even in front of raging thunders
Of dashing lightnings
In this world full of fingerlings

Oh, rain
You can be wet
You can be cool
You can be cold
You can be dark
You can be sad
You can be bittersweet

You can stop time
You can make me relax
You can make me ponder then wander
Lost in the wonder

What a beautiful and mysterious nature you are
For me, you are the most beautiful natural disaster

Just looking at warm-hearted shelters
Refuge in straw and oil papers
Instead of dividing
People are embracing
Even if walking and running to different paths
And my heart is dancing quietly
Your scenery blooms better too in nights
Scattered lights
Heating a fire

Colors might be washed away
But you are a purifier–
A pacifier in the puzzle
See? This does not have to be lonely

One word
Yet a thousand picture
Yet a thousand feelings
Yet a thousand tones
A thousand brilliant meanings
Penne Aug 14
Yesterday
She was a piece of enigma

Today
She is still a work of enigma

I wonder why no one talks about her

Because she does not know where she came from

She does not know her mother nor father
She does not have any sisters or brothers
Or even the likes



Her presence drips in the room
Penne Aug 14
I stare off
At my bunk bed surface
To deep space
The metal bars under the cork
Shape like prison bars on a fork
Steep
Dark
Suffocating
Dull
I sink more to my cheap, wrinkled sheets
Still, frigidity penetrates it
I wonder why
You write
Because you know you are right
Or are you alright?
I trust everybody when they are writing
Because it shows who they truly are
They cannot be expressed ******
No matter how far
Who knows
I am Miss Understood
It feels as wintry as the neighborhood
I do not rise from it
Or will I ever
And always be the escapist prisoner of my prison
That I have built myself
Since I, the only one can enjoy it
Unreachable like how I reach things from the hole peeking from the bunk bed
Penne Aug 9
Imagine
A ball of gas composing of water and land
That they call a planet
We started appearing out of nowhere
Spattering brains everywhere
Freedom to be anywhere
Only you can make the world beautiful
Only you can make life beautiful

What is sense?
When you are living inside a nonsense
Earth started out without structure, now you are telling me that I should think with structure?  
What values?
The ones told by your moms and dads to preserve order to everyone and yourself?
When all you have been entertaining is yourself
What beliefs?
When all of them are just distractions
As noises are to you and me
Who is responsible for your happiness?
Oh, look at that butterfly!

Sipping through the nectar of a New England Aster
Did that make your heart beat faster?
No need to rely on a maistre
To fulfil your already-hollow self
You are
You are the one who is feeling
You have your own heart
So, while you last
Make yourself that you think what joy is forever last
To yourself, to humankind, to all living and non-living vast!

The space we live in is infinite
The bigger you grow
The smaller your thoughts grow
The slower its flow
The blood does not clot
The vision blurs
The hours become seconds
The second you know, it is snow
Then, it will be spring!

Can you even catch up with all the pasts and futures?

The colors of tulip and dandelion fields
Intertwine with the afterglow of dawn
The scent of daylight and laundry sheets
Cool breeze condenses your cold glass window
Oh God!
Suffering is happiness
But that concept is nothing but nothingness
Is that what you all devotees call ******* sense?
Does not matter; irrelevant to the matter
Seven minutes of heaven of reminiscing the friendly conversations
The moments you sincerely laughed
The moments you tear yourself by the window

Remember your first love?
Do you still know what it smells like?
The taste of when you had your first breakfast at a five-star hotel?
The first country outside your country you travelled
The midnight chats while out raining
The fur of a Pomeranian or a husky

So done
So done
Of time running gone
System running--shutting
Life becoming to none

Nothing is definite
But only spoken in a miser, wiser’s tongue
I am a risky decision
You are a risky decision
We are a risky decision
We are a risk

Oh, we're drowning!
Someone save us!
What, you mean a god?
Living to believe
That we are dying
Lingering

Disbelieve in writing!
'Cause writing is a radical loss of certainty
What to believe
When the only way to survive life is not having any beliefs
Maybe we could have advanced to a higher meaning

HALT IT!
Overthinking! Overanalyzing!
The craziest cuckoo!

Needing of pain for comfort
Needing of comfort for pain

You call this art?
An art of ******* everything up

Reality is fantasy
Fantasy is reality
We'll wake up in a dream in no time

Hear Satie,
In odyssey in praise of odysseys
Now, you are telling me, you, and everyone in this room to be a catalyst?

How to end this poem
Like...life?
Penne Jul 15
Ever heard of anxiety?
Just the word itself feels like eternity
A feeling that is born to multiply infinite
Still indefinite for the definite
Well, I have the social anxiety
That sounds like a self diagnosis
But every nanosecond I am going through metamorphosis
I do not have the profession to state this reliable confession
I know we are all different
But I know we are the same when it comes to biology
I am not saying this for unity
The sad thing is I cannot sell this brain for rent
Yet the hardest needed medication is empathy
For this distorted mentality
Why do you have to hurt when I am already in hell, reality?
Now shifting to maladaptive tendencies
I am not afraid of the crowd
I have fear they will not let me just be myself all year round
Say something positive
I will always flip it into something negative
Because I am provocative
Please see that as a prerogative
Do not be interrogative
This brain is too active for the inactive
Imaginative radioactive
Lacking in the interactive
Yet the fact that is also not enough
I am not enough is not enough
Since my problem is not in the physical
It is in the mental
And it is never going to turn only rental
Say you are only temperamental
Body burning like metal
Stuck in the bungalow
Now that they are all after the afterglow
Oh, when will it show?
The sweat excess
In this overthinking process
Overthinking the fact that we are all wired in "survival of the fittest"
Oh, brain! Just let me rest!
Can I just leave this to tomorrows' nests?
How can I show my best
When I need medication regardless
When will I find egress to this madness?
This is fine
Since suffering will lead you to happiness
Even for temporariness
What is worse is that it repeats
Until you are out of line
It was better all along if I became a mime
Better 'off with my head'
Better off dead
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