...Once upon
an insignificant time
the world was upside down
from my point of
view
Wondering why
people do
what people do
Diving into the flood
of raging consciousness
seeking for calmness
in a place where failure is
the only thing that could
happen
I am
trapped to be confused
not to drown in
despair
but to fit the pieces
in man's black
comedy...

I still remember the
days of golden suns
Reflections upon leaves
Days were still warm
Fields were filled with laughter and
innocent dreams
rolling down the meadows
Nothing but green and
daisies were an orchestra
A melody by angels
in chorus with the breeze
Whistling tunes of heavenly smiles
radiant hues paints the sky
…a cool morning dew
I was there…
Enjoying the breeze and
the array of yellows and butterflies
and violets and bees
Under the tree
by the olden tire
hanging on a wrinkled branch
Mighty arms of the elder oak
who has witnessed
years of sunrises and sunsets
Old maybe the tree was
but the scent were of flowers
and there was never a fading
Contented
happiness it seemed
I never left the solitude
It was a solace of an embrace…

...I've walked upon worlds
of fallen grounds
Wounded and healed to paint scars
as the last drop of red
paved a road of a shadow
of eternal yesterdays
I've gone to deviated slumber
to lands of never sleeping dreams
where the sun
was never blinding
and paralleled reasoning
was his radiance
while the moon
never heaved logic
upon her shadows
that lit the beauty
of tomorrow...

...He never took the
chance to say I
love you...
Hanging words
in an unspoken
conversation
Words
that were suppose to
rekindle
old flames to start a
new fire
What he felt was
never heard
Discontented
by the remnants of an
undisturbed
candle lit dinner
Regrets
can only wait
for another time
hoping for second
chances...

…I have shown the world
a smile that reached through
thousands of miles
And it was
nothing but a
facade
Clashing moonlight of
endless thoughts
shedding blood of tears… raging
as I’ve fought into
forever distance
In my mind I
scream in anguish…
Plunging back to my depths
a familiar sorrow I
have
felt
Leaving again the realm of sanity
off I am
to wander through
madness…

I was under an olden tree
not very far from somewhere but
it takes time to be there
It was when the shades were cool
and the breeze whistled a
relaxing soothe
Everything seems to find bliss
in each gust of the gentle zephyr
Butterflies giggle
in every wave of emotion
Daisies wiggle
beauty in each breath
Dragonflies jiggle
...a dance with the wind
Remembering why I fled
not to escape but to find solace
I took out my pen and
a piece of parchment
but there was no blood
no fire
no chaos
Just silence in every sway
Blades of grass
touching my toes
a tingling sensation
deep in thought
...Transcendence
So I tried
gliding with the pen
through that parchment
contemplating
then there was
nothing...


Mek
Oct08

A Poet’s pen speaks of poetry
Spoken under the moonlight of scattered nights
Writing cascading emotions of depths and reverie
Felt by countless stars and the endless sands of time

They are of words of absolute truth
An enigma of echoing thoughts
with the passion of smiles and tears
A puzzle in pieces of life
yet to be unraveled by untainted eyes
and souls beating of true heart

They are of verses of dramas
A hanging Light within the bounds
of magic and reality, of dragons and fires
Forever floating like drifting mist
carried by the everyday wind
never touching the mind of the stagnant stream

They are of tides of the setting sun
Rising and falling with man and the Moon
They speak of sunriseof a new dawn
aging like the Sage, with the wisdom of the Crone

And tonight…
A Poetry speaks when a Poet pens
Beyond the night of scattered lights
In the time of a burning candle
…the setting of the dusk of the sun
will cast light upon the shadows of truth and dramas


Mek
Oct07

She views the world from a point where time transcends belief and the city lights shimmer like diamonds in her tears. Someone calls for her. She tries to ignore. "Not yet..."

...He did
what he could...
Almost
He stood at the brink of
a free fall and saw a
struggle bled to
dry...

...She flicks her cigarette as she exhales a cloud of certainty. Time will stop tonight... that's for sure. She descends with a cold blackness in her breath...

...He saw
a falling star
but he never believed in wishes
though if he did
he'd only wish
for one thing...

...The soul is still warm and the ground was still weeping. The scent of the ground isn't fresh and the stains were heavy inside her heart. She looks away. The last breath was hers.

...Selfishness
made him stole
time
that wasn't his
It was a choice
influenced
by being
lost...

...City lights
on a distance
reflect
a melancholic dance
of fireflies drifting
the streets
Black metallic cases walk
and nobody cares
Fragile as a glass
they talk about tomorrow as
black clouds embrace
their dreams and the flowers were
never tended
anymore
Emotions are
Were...
And one couldn't stop
to wish
In my heart I know
a single touch makes
a big difference
but reality is
nostalgia
is the calm in
the air...

The last match didn't light at the first strike. Though he's grateful it didn't break, he was somehow impatient as he stood at the brink of what seemed to be the edge of his breath. It must be the wind...

...Fallen angels
can never fly
when they choose
to fall
Heavens do forgive
but
do they forget?

...He saw the glimpse as if it was a moment of a dewdrop dreaming to be with a morning jasmine. The scent was beautiful but he could only hope to see it more clearly. His head had grown heavy...

...define a thunder
by the lightning
and see
the teardrops
leaving the cry
it gets lighter
in the end...

...The last traces of smoke had long gone. He wonders about the things they see when they reach the heavens. Maybe there are no answers. But then again, who knows? He had to let go...

...But
when it fades
before it can be felt, before
it turns into a meaning
then hope will
abandon
the sleeping
man...

There are stories to tell...
Some good and some
not so
good
They remind me of wooden stars
hanging
on a dusty old ceiling
Ignored but never forgotten
They were dull like
dreams in the morning
and yet they
scream
much like a nightmare
These stories... they whisper
sometimes to haunt
and sometimes to
justify their
existence
But as with all stories
written or told
the end leads to
another...

...Build a fire
and burn the heart
to bring the light at the end of
darkness
Fill the sorrow with
songs
Maybe tomorrow will
leave a room to forgive
and never
spend the night
under the kiss of whiskey
ever
again
Tread the path
where shadows remain what
they are
and believe those who embrace
reason as a fragile whisper
Choose
we can only be here
once...

There lies a small town situated in an idea beyond man's point of view. He seeks the courage to make that step towards a recognition that it's time to let go. He remembers his first bicycle ride...

...Reaching the stars
from a transcendent void is
a journey that defies
her concept of
everyday life
Flowers may bloom
but the scent...

...It's either his reasoning or the cold that makes the whiskey dull. Building fire out of ice is hypocrisy. But then again, many are obliged to please despair. He hears the calling of the irony as if reality didn't exist...

...A melody
barely played into
the fading distance
another memory
forgotten
and it becomes
worse...

...The calling seems to be getting more vague with each passing moment. Attachments are heavier than the burden of a decision to make a choice. Strands of smoke rise in the air and he thinks of her one last time...

...Seasons will
pass
and suns may shine
Remembering
will always be
a part
of her every breath...

...I look at the stars
upon
a midnight's blue of a
purple blood
Seeking for something
that would clear my head
in this walk
back
home
Moonlight's dream
of a cool summer warmth
sends confusion
of a shivering
embrace
that cuts through
the sanity of my being
And I wonder
if this will ever
fade...

He waited... waited long enough to see that a promise's destiny, in a twist that some people may call fate, is sometimes doomed right from the start. I mean, what are the odds that it will bear fruit in the middle of winter?

Upon a blue moon
...rare
Peaceful, calm
and
empty
breathless like a dagger
She was there
longing...

The ground was brittle that night. So brittle, he thought it would break at the wrong take of a breath. He stared at a thought... Venturing out into the night never really pleased him, especially when alone. It's not about the dark or fear or something else, but the feeling of solitude haunts him...

Dreams...
she embraced
Solace
in her veins and her heart
blinded
as it burned the night
Illlusions made her
believe...

But perhaps... perhaps they were right. The howling comes first before the nightmare. He looked on the ground with a trace of a distinct emotion, that often leads to sorrow, and thought he should have not left in the first place... And now that the howling stopped, he wonders what nightmare stands before him...

Underneath a blue
moon... rare
She smiled and she
lied
and thought it was
peaceful and calm
She undressed and
slit her throat...

...Judge me
not
by the hooded face of
hypocrisy beneath your
elaborated cross
Sinner is the soul and we
are no different
from the malice of logic
Blessed are those who see
a poor man in heaven
for they do not feel alone
in this crowded
city of gold
Stone me to death
only if
talking to the Devil is
a sin
Faith is a belief
founded not
on stagnant
waters...

...Beneath every smile
lies a dormant tear in
this world of chaos
Needing a light
deep within the
decadence…

Beneath
every silence that
empties the day
cries a melange of nostalgic sky
Heard within dreams of
desperate solace
Overshadowed by insanity
shrouded by
the dark of
blindness…

…Like saddened eyes
drenched deep
from the pains of yesterday
that shrouds a glimmering hope
whispered by tomorrow
Weak in the flesh
Undressed by regrets
Wandering endlessly
through thorns of dying roses
under vague black skies
of crying stars and bleeding moon
Alone in the night
in search of a warmth… to weep
Beneath the shadow of a cloak
Wading through dark waters of
uncertainties and despair
Struggling to survive
the splintering shivering cold
Blown by melancholic voices
that echoes within the void
of a withering heart
Desperately holding on
to desolated
breaths…