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Penne Feb 20
Chin up
What are you looking down on for?
I heard you were the winner of this contest
Why down
When you are already in the up

Your life is as high as the clouds
Tiptoeing on the gold
When every floor shines to you
People latch on you like a magnet
Hoping to leech off some basket of your talent
To me and the eyes of the envy, that is not humility
It is nothing but vanity

You have the neatest work
Organized and logical
Most understandable and desirable
You the cheeriest face and smile
You have the coolest of fiercest lies
You have done the impossible
You have the peaceful of memorable
You have the breath freshing life
You have a simple but satisfying affection
You have somebody willing to sacrifice for you
Best of both worlds connection

You do not have a broken brain
That fluctuates on every thought train
To me, I see rain
Instead of the bow's grains
You do not faint
In world's every little madness added with vain

You stay rooted on your spot
Defending yourself even when the fire's hot
Dare playing forget-me-not
I ask myself everyday
Why cannot I be strong?
Why cannot I be independent?
Why cannot I be more talented?
Why cannot I be clean?
Why cannot I be innocent and still loved?
Why do I keep thinking?
Why cannot I just stop?
Why am I surviving?
Why cannot be like them?
Why cannot I be like you

Always never enough
Improves but fails
Told to be yourself but I am tired of doing both the appropriating and the diasappointing
Always hurt
Always inviting pain
Nothing to gain
With my self pitying
With my self degrading
Demotivating this miserably, hopelessly beating, drowsing heart
As I long stare on

Is it me
Is it you
Is it everybody
That I am crying out for this?
Repeating the celebrity thinking
To prevent sinking
You have to keep sailing in everyone's mingling
To forget what you are actually dancing
What you are living
Until you are completely failing
Because we are all missing something
Then blame it on everything

It is hard to maintain the:
"Just sing and soon everyone will respect you."
Feb 19 · 83
Trillion in Vermillion
Penne Feb 19
Let this not be thrown to oblivion
Been through the haze
My head in the craze
But there is no other like you
Searching, imagining
Carving, designing
Sculpting, molding, repeat
I paint with my eyes of dream
Touch of silk's gleam
Lips of rose
Gentle, perfect nose
You look so alive
That you almost have a life
Too bad, you cannot be my wife in real life
With my sculptor's knife
I carve you day and night
Dress you with the finest riches
Embrace you with kisses
Dance with you as immortal's bliss
I pray to gods, you heavenly Aphrodite
My lady is nothing but an ideal deity
I never once knew that this idea can become a reality
I thank the million skies
My eyes' tears cry
When I touch your ****** hair
Now as rich as fur of mare
Kiss your marbled lips into soft
Sigh in rough
Yet mellow in yellow
As your skin out of milk
You breathed by a creation to breathe you into a creation
Your body, mien, and clothing, pictures a waterfall, forest, flowerbed and nirvana combined
My days from bleak to wanderlust
We vow before the heavens
May this love strengthen
I have never felt this paradise
From dust to snow
From stone to show
From sand to flow
From idea to glow
From air to gold
The hymn of serene
Lily wort bloom in the scene
I beg you, please do not prepare my wake
Without my beautiful beside me by the lake
Pygmalion and Galatea ")
Feb 19 · 77
Tired of This Soul
Penne Feb 19
Have no one to talk to
About philosophies
Fantasies, memories
Anything daisies
Everyone is busy
In their pointless lives
Busy with their "soulmates"
Or busy wth their selves
Afraid to delve in the unthinkable
Overlooking the miserable
Trying to thrive
The ache in the hive
As I watch them die slowly live
As my mind die slowly incognito

Anyone want a ticket to history lane?
No one!
What about sincerity?
No one!
What about the sacredness of anything? The galaxies, the far away, the dreams, the opinions?
No one, since like myself
I view mine unpleasantly
So are the people around me
And now anything between
That is why I am in pink!

Tired of the soul
That no one desires
Nor understands
Too bore (or gore?) for my age's listeners
That stutters as it flutters
Muttering beside the shutters
Can you stop for a second there?
Make me worthy
In the lily forty
Do not make me haughty
For I have done plenty
It is not pretty
I sound like a dying *****
Thinking I am better but deep down, I feel lower
Waiting for a foe
And then get rescued by another *****

Oh, my castle-based tale life
Too alone again
Too fear-feeding again
Cynicism is my innate virtue
For I think that is my value
Then loneliness visits
For a sleepover
This curious, ****** rue
It is not new
Everything is used
Blown fuse
I refuse
Now, confused
For they still do not vamoose
Strings loose

Faint glowing lies
Vague surface
Challenge me
But not just pure logic
To be fair with my stone, sprinkle a little magic in this planet of tragic
Drip in nostalgic
But not too energetic
Not making it hectic
Yet oozing with electric

Born as this way
Hey, hurray
Making my own play
Selfish, arch, childish and filthy of me
But that is how I want it to be
All I ask for is your time
To listen then comprehend
End the pretend
Also clarify
I am only a dime in the lime
This should not be a crime

Is it too much to ask?
Feb 19 · 515
Penne Feb 19
Lay you
You, scent of miracle
Queen of purple
Dive with you
The lullness
The sweetness
The clouds
The home
Yet also the sting
Juice of youth sing
Not loud
Entangles me in waves
Indulge in the deluxe nature rave
Cool, mingling flame
Soothes my dame
As the mauve movement
Keep getting effervescent
The miss
The kiss
The mist
The rest
They dance and giggle freely
Fleetingly and sheepishly
Blushing as it brush against my flock of sheep
A sight of a paradox
A splash of silver fox
Comfy as its manes
Steadies my slumber
Even on a rocking lumber
With the breath of September
Keep making us enchanted under your spell
All will be swell
Thousand familiar but welcoming smell
To you I stay
We sway to heaven's way
May it turn us ***
Your nursing
Your care
Your play
It is our day
To blanket in your fields of saint
Feb 19 · 575
Penne Feb 19
A dictionary of words
Little marks to describe a vast world
Lest not care of lacking logic
Aroused by imagination is my magic
Lemon zests the cornucopia of citrus
Are not they a splash of kalopsa?
Charisma, karma, euphoria?
Not allowed to bleed in blanc
Wail in rosy franc
Puddles of messed reflection
Fictions wonder reaction
Wander in the wildest wilderness
Describe the autumn, fall
Moist, solitary
Fawn on the lawn
Reality is the contrary
Refuge in the creamed sugar
Like a cup of iced kiss
Deep burrowed in the mapled hiss
Wait for its marmalade bliss
Head exploding in fireworks
Magnificent, what about nightfall?
Showers and streaks befall
Stars shoot smoke of ball
Cry tears of meteorites
Sprinkle the blinking sprites
Flow streams of sparkling silence
Swim the chasing glares
Enchant me in your chemise, evangelic skin
Leitmotif of mimes' maim, mean?
Speculate the pixelled fairies
Hide in the fruits of Alice
Spark at the dance of hands
Paint the faint trees
Baskets of floating sheep
Bounce in the enigmatic realm
Drooling in
As they transgress the egress
In chiffon blush flushed
Bittersweet caress
Bare grasslands with strangers
Wet the glory shine
Morning then hoots for sleep
Shush, weeping willows
Flowers of your scent hover the grove
Voices sweetly surrender
Linger for tender
Gloam or roam
River of innocence soul
Reaping the afterglow
Aglow my fountained lockes
Blur for it to be clearer
Illusions of ambiguity
As its lips meet the prism
Of brilliant optimism
Breathtaking fauvism
Breathless onism
Succumb in the limitless reverie
Rare of not having aneurysm
Persephone's persepolis
Blood of perenelia
Where Opheus court Eurydice
Winter solace holies
Lakes of beating lights
Bloom irregularly
As the sesquipedalian crawl out from its vine
In the Brobdanigagigan it creeps
Line between sublime and wine
Harmony weave in palette
Rhythm rose from my red
Fresh breeze hush the roulette
Leaves blade the crafted well-made
Dusk, dawn to diiferentiate
Eclipse the hysteria and the impeccable
Love waltz
Glide the glistened clarity
Perfume lilies
Stares of lavenders
Rain the clouds of keys
Crystallizing and fractalizing
Mesmerize, astonish, aghast!
Rise your mile
Fragile my rile
Bridge this moonlit immeasurable, fantasia distance
Repertoire of piano choir
Luxury in the polychrome noir
Royal in the loyal wintermelon
Poppies color the spring
Butterflies fly in the effervescence
My painting sings a summer fling
Jump in the pantones
Rest your all
Stones amble swish scone
Wishes twinkle then hone
Will-o-wisps chill your bone
Lend me a wing
Let not be done in a ding
What I fear, free from the fringes of meek
My, this lexicon is not enough!
How to occupy the million, jillion, eternal galaxies
Shout in the rave
Echoing in the waves
Marvel at the bejewelled revel
Image my imagery
Oh, dive away child!
Let us drive in the garden of glaze
Careful not to be too amazed in the maze
In the hummed woodglade
As the critters flutter and flute
No way to chain me out of this loop
Pool of pretty astonishments
Diamonds of nature
Endure, not inure
Words alone are insufficient
Thess are just mere fantasies
Some are unexplainable
Some needs to be felt
Some needs to be seen
Not just read
Not just dreamt
I may sound dubious
But this is incredulous
Just a random collection of pretty words º-º
Feb 19 · 82
Play God
Penne Feb 19
Do you like to play gods?
No one can.
If you see a beggar, will you feed it?
Will you sympathize or empathize?
Have you done a sin
A sin that benefitted the whole humanity?
Would you let yourself nailed to the cross and bleed blood and humans shout nothing but hatred to you?
Even if you done it all
Why is it not enough
No matter how much you kneel
Why do you still sin
No matter how much good you committed
Why do you still sin
Can you create a perfect world?
Only in your dreams
But is it fine not to play?
Is it fine to do bad since you cannot level gods after all?
If I do not, I will not get what I want
Not get to be high as the kings
If I do, I will but what will happen next?
What does it feel like?
What makes a god a God?
Will you control the pain or the gain?
This is a border humans must not broad to
In the end, you are a creation
That needs affection
Do not bother its limitations
Feb 19 · 52
Penne Feb 19
Hey Ellis
Finding feliz?
If only we wind back to felicity
Catching the ferries
To ponder the fairies

Hey Ellis
Why bleed in blanc
When you can explode in a multicolored palette
A vignairette, if you say so

No, I am not mistaking you for Eris
Tired of changing clothes each day
Why laugh on the underrated
When you can have overrated
No, you are not underestimated
Only judged

Tried to be special
Did not put any ******
Anything but superficial
But the issue is you are not too creative nor too logical
You were always in the middle
No one meddled

Thought you are an open book
But to truth, you are glazing more bricks on your rook
How many pages did you took
Just to have a brand new look
But you are attached in that nook
No matter what you do

Yet no one cares
About the beauty of your snares
They all turned to nightmares
Just starting from your names
Your perspectives burned into frames

Hey Ellis
Why spill over the rotten
When you can be the forgotten
Forbidden, hidden

No one to speak about the latter
What else matter
In this perverse letter
Such a diverse fretter

No, you were unafraid
To open the doors of the afraid
Inquisition drips over you
Whilst darkness drapes that flu
You were born in blue
But that does not mean it cannot be mildew

Nobody knew the similarity and difference added when the parents are affected
You child existed
Solitude haunted
But you wrested from the rest

Eyes of an eaglet
That do not produce tears
But blood of hodgepodge
Clothed in butterflies
Must learn the fears
In life of a cicadas

Hey Ellis
Never stop the thrilling
Even if it is killing
That is your way of mingling
Enigma is your pool
Even if it is unfair
Hemorrhage sounds cool
Even if everybody looks at you as if you are a fool

Love, Mary
Feb 19 · 62
Penne Feb 19
Illusion of illusion
Are you now in confusion?
What does this supposed to mean?
Why do they rhyme?
Does it spell the time?

Why is it centered?
What does it supposed to mean?
What does it hide?
Ambiguity or a plain ride?
Paperback bona fide?
Where is the lie?
Adventure or mystery
Mien or a hidden fight?
Strong or mild?
Does it circuit?
Loop, repeat or look,
A biscuit

Are you not too distracted with your life?
Satisfy my tongue
I will satisfy yours
Will it shock me in brilliance?
Cry me in defiance?
Or make me miserably dance?
What is to unlock?
Such a mock

What does it supposed to mean?
To confuse or clean?
Is it as thin as lean?
Or a skeleton underneath?
Lose your skin
Or increase your bid
Flute in tune as baby's breath
Words tangled in a wreath
As it lace on your neck
Too many to process
Too many to possess

Is there a way out in the unknown?

Pour me in your sensical honey
Dip in that money
What does it mean?
For you
Or are you just juked?
Send a nuke, fluke
Feb 10 · 71
Penne Feb 10
Rough, sandy
Malodors of Brandy
Unlimited space
Yet strangling

Dark, hollow
Look again
Fell deep in the hole
Cannot breathe in this loophole

Wind wafting through its cardboard
The more I think about it
The cooler it gets

I had one similar
When I was just a mere familiar
Horsing around it as if it was my home
What made it comfortable
It was always locked
It was always not a liar

It was better than anyone
I do not know what kind of sorcery it used
But it always eased my fuse
When I am confused, in a ruse
I can breathe after all

You can imagine anything there
Flap its sides as if you are in a plane
You can paint animals, forests anytime
Unlike reality

Turn it into castle
Or a storage of treasure
A hideout
Military base
Safe and sound

Quiet, does not shout
Does not turn angry
Cut, it will not yell
Not misunderstanding
Attachment syndrome with a non-living thing
So are these ghosts surrounding

My philosopher's brain is no match for society
Add that with my dash of absolutism
I played along with the appropriatey

But why, did it betray me now?
The more I stayed
The more I get scared
Tsunami of bad dreams slapped me
Cannot get out
But nowhere to shelter to

Feeling I do not need aid
It is better to sabotage my faith
On my own
Than admitting that I am terrified
Sensitive like the morning flower
Than to be hurt by the outside
Than involving anyone
Since everybody around me are dunces

So stay
Once more
Get this occupied
Even if it is already roaring to break free

Where no one will see me
See me be myself
Abnormal self
Weeping, childish self
And come back again and again
Feb 10 · 237
I Know
Penne Feb 10
I know
I know what is right from wrong
But I do not know why I keep doing it for so long
For the millionth time
I know

Why do you do it too
If you know that it is wrong
'Cause it is what everybody does?
I have eyes too
I can imitate that
I can reciprocate all that
Future generations can

We are fine not changing this rotten world
We are fine following the crowd
We are fine living in these dying cerebrums

Blame me
For my cowardice
For I am an absolutist
Love the subtlety
If I am fighting for something
I should not be hiding behind my screens

I know
I am illogical
Out of my head
But re-check yourself if you had one too

I know
We are all humans
And I honestly hate that philosophy
Since all we do is escape that futility
And choose social mutiny
Desenthesize us, realists and freaks' mentality
Instead of unity
Please, more fatalities

But it feels good, right?
To let yourself in irrationality
Since this is not pretty
So is reality
Especially when they desire change
But on the inside, they are afraid
I know
Art cannot be political

To fight against the atmosphere
I know
You have all the time in your life
To sin, then regret
Mistakes flow me!
And may regret do the same thing

I know
I know

But before you point your finger
Why not point yourself too

It feels good to be wrong (but not right)
Jan 29 · 86
Eurydice Two
Penne Jan 29
Waking up to dawn
To see you stand on the lawn
Your details are to be fawn

Universe does not exist when you are around
Every moment and memory is spellbound
A new side of me has found
As you lift me up from the ground

I cannot remember
If we really met in November or December
I must be in a deep slumber

Your touch is a revel
My heart is a rebel
Fruit not in level
Your orbs are to marvel

The sand on our feet when we strolled on the beach
The waves splash in peach
Like each other's leech
Like me who wish to reach

Wonder is our niche
Not that it is cliche
But true
As my love for you

The skies become lighter
The room gets brighter
The nature seems richer
Life is smoother

Bouncing in clouds
Chasing the moon
Floating in rounds
Body swoons

Only one who fights my gray
Who lights up my day
As we fly away
To the fields of May
As I lay and pray

My strings went from none to beyond
Feelings about to be bond
Flame tames down
Waking up to dawn
To only find you gone
Just had an idea if Eurydice never got a happy ending with Orpheus. I guess this is how it is told in a more modern way.
Jan 22 · 69
Vulnerability is Hard
Penne Jan 22
Peeling off my layers
In front of you in the naked glazers
No blazers
Oh, anxiety grows in the air
Can I now retreat to my normal flair?
Before I opened bare
My body sheltered in shame
Tasted lame
Ruined a good name
Mind gambling in games
Hands twitch and fidget
Into directions anyone cannot forget
Warmth is not enough
To smoothen the roughs
If I cannot withstand all the melodrama,
Can you be my anesthesia?
Since exists in my head is an everlasting psychedelia
Tiptoeing on shards of firearms
May I weep in your frail arms?
Do it mean harm?
Will my skin not switch into a smoke alarm?
Will I be able to be vulnerable?
Defenseless surrender
Before the wars turn into murders
And not alter to *****
When nowhere left to release the fumes
When to breathe as a chrysanthemum
When I still cannot find an asylum?
Defeating my memoir
In the phase of searching a livewire
Since I lived once in a birdhouse
Where it is already wall-tight and always a full house
I know I am afraid, for no correct steps are laid
I am already a regret
Now, do not fret
Exhibiting my secret is equal to losing to an opponent
Faith to me is blind
Especially when you are not in right mind
Jan 22 · 451
Idle Hours
Penne Jan 22
Song of the nightingale
Mixes my ****** ale
Sink faucet water drops
Mirror props
No one to cuddle in these idle hours
My esteem tastes sour
My heart, it shrank
My eyes, they sank
In this frigid dark
It is not pain
It is not lame
View these as plain
For me, I feel like I am to be blamed
How to mouth an emotion
When my mind is not in motion
My body in supine position
****** my heart strings
Can you still hear them tugging, running
Because I cannot
My ears must be deafened by the waves
The only sound right now is the metronome in the monochrome
My silhouette dancing in this lone haze
Touch me, I fracture
How to not be unfazed
When I am born with a daze
Do I still remember the days
When I do not wake up in this blank  gaze
Bypass me as a slate
Think until I used up space
Draws my face
Even when there are a lot swimming this way
I am faltering, fading away
In these invisible blows
That keep getting close
When I want them to be far away
Yet the holes are nowhere
Yet the roots are null
Dew's breath caress through my skull
In what way to lull
Who knows
What tomorrow holds
For I am idling in hours
Jan 20 · 82
Cafe Catharsis
Penne Jan 20
Hold my glass
Even if it is my third, sixth time whatever to take the mic
I feel a catharsis coming up
Why people need to take away my one and only guilty pleasure
What is wrong with reading
And writing tales in my phone?
Do you think I do not learn anything from them?
Not all writings are fruitless
I am better than people who uses chapels as an internet cafe
They scroll mindlessly in their news feeds
Pardon your brainless child, God
But I find chapels peaceful
Your presence alone sings with tranquility
And when it does, countless thoughts form in my head
I cannot sleep in day nor night as long as I do something about them
So with my fingers, I type
So with my pen, I dance
Even if I sound like a kid who rants a lot in the internet
Even if I am still immature for the matures
Even if I am still a novice to this billion-year old planet
Even if I am perturbed in whether publishing them or not
But to facticity
When I was a mere seedling
I am always obscured
I did not lend my mouth to those who are in my age and even out of age that I find low-leveled to me
I have no one to talk to but myself
At least that is what my ghost processed
I am not good at anything except for swordfighting
It helped me unleash the monsters I have been not willing to let anyone see
I am already abused for having a distorted mentality
Now I am being abused by distorted reality
Oh, am I haughty yet?
Pardon my noisy, sleepless mind
That will not let me speak out loud
If you disgrace reading, try slowly, little by little first
I am telling you, it is a nice picturesque to be in
Paint your own scenery
Contemplate the unheard
Dance with any melodies of art
Even if it is not by a stylus
So tell me, why do I deserve that preaching
When there are worse than me
Have I done something to wreck your life
Have I done a huge, lawless crime
When I am just sitting through the Holy silence with a book in my mind
Jan 20 · 747
A Lass
Penne Jan 20
Once there was a lass
Planted into a mysterious world
Does not know where to go, how to go
Three lights later, she was found
But it is not the kind of found she desires
Is there even a reason of existence
You want her to question about her sanity
Question about impossibility
Question what is underneath
Question what is on the other side
Do you think to look smart
Or do you think because you want to be mentally deranged
Does being a product mean,
To look unique, to look you know a lot more than anyone
Because insane is the new gain
Insane is the pain
Insanity is my oxygen
Does this look art to you
Just simply spilling her emotions and rants
But in reality she done nothing
So how come you label her as a product?
Everyday, questioned herself if she is even of worth
No matter where angles of skies she looked at , no answers burst
If she was born to be secluded
Does that mean she is out of this world
If she thinks differently
Does she have to change the world?
Should she be drowned in the pills of schizophrenia
To define what real art is?
To defy reality?
Is this enough
If not, then what am I
If not a product, then what
I disgrace sycophants and know-it-alls alike
Except for lucid and heavy dreamers for life
Are we bore to create a fantasy
Or altogether fall with this society
Does living in nomothethic oceans is a mistake
Talk about limitless yet senseful imagery
Chatter away with debates that activate logic which I do not have
What is more likely to balance
When there is a whole solar system to laugh at you
No, I should see more light
But what light shall I find
I do not know what is the real definition of every little thing
But I worry and think of them
They say it is the beauty
What beauty
Underneath or above
Which one did you admire first?
Do I have to question my faith
Do I have to question everything around me
Should I speak like Shakespeare
Should I speak colorful in my own language  than the language that became my mother's tongue
Should I write like an endless dictionary and a multi-faced human
Should I count every star accurately until the fall wither me
Or produce sounds alive like the city of owls
Should I make every human being smile when I cannot smile myself
Should I feel nothing but sadness for eternity
To pity me when I weave with words
Should I play like Arima
Should I paint like a museum artist
Just to call me a talent
Should I perfect my skills of every labor
Should success appear to me like magic
Should I explain the unexplainable
Or should I damage my cerebrum
Before I truly feel intelligent
Should I dance my life away like the Black Swan
Should I be tearing down politicians and teachers
Just to feel worthy
Just to be recognized in the light I desire
Or should I just look in the mirror
To check if my blood veins are still flowing
Real blood, not just veins of vain
Inhaling all the smoke of envy
I sin
I am flawful
I breathe in gold
Just to realize it is old
Just to realize my self-redeement is stone cold
Will you love and be deserved by light like that
Will you realize everyone who reads this has been **** as well
Will you realize I am not writing about myself
But what we are all afraid to admit the most
Because you are only a person
And once there was an abnormal lass
Jan 20 · 201
A Rose-Colored Poem
Penne Jan 20
What if I like what is underneath
Flocks these days admire on what is in the cover
Tainted and glittered nails
But what if I rip the skin off and study the parts of it?
That way I can admire the beauty of having such a body part
Glitzy notebooks are a thing
When I can have a notebook with just a mere dot as a design
That way no one will be able to steal them
Because I am the only who knows the beauty of it
Everyone dances to the music they heard of
While I am just here listening to non-existent sounds
Everybody befriends the charismatic person in the room
But what if I like distorted overgrowns
Even when he shot daggers
Talks to himself and paints the world as if he owns it?
Tell me what is good taste
When it is there surrounding me
Your eyes just do not switch to an owl's yet
Isn't life full of hidden kalopsa?
Even if I still do not have William's tongue to describe them?
When you are at your worst
I may not help you instantly
Since I cannot help but be mesmerized by your mistakes
You are even more beautiful to me when the side you hide the most flourish
Even when everybody in this world hates you,
I will find colors in your imperfections
I will burst in laughter at them, not because you are foolish
But you had the courage to show your real persona
Everybody has different ideas for beauty
But this is mine
Like this poem
You thought this is going to be pretty
When I like what is underneath

— The End —