She's scary but very beautiful...
Like fire, terrifying, but at the same time, too tempting to touch.

She screams at me but I love it...
Like a lion humming with piano keys.

She wore black and made it look like rainbow...
Like a bat with butterfly wings.

The orangey sun would soon die,
Dipping in the warm open oceans
Black unfeathered birds would fly,
Accompanied with teeth of draconians

The blue sky would be painted black,
And rounded moon would be lighted up
Little suns would start to spark,
With the cricket sounds, abrupt

After 12 rounds of the shorter hand,
The ball of fire will start blazing back
And by the shore, I would stand
Still, wide smiles and plenty laughs I lack

Terhe are all dnifereft kdins of wlords out trehe,
Weethhr you tihnk it eixst or it deos not

Tehre are all dferfiet knids of wdorls you bnoleg,
Whteher tehy tinhk it esixt or it deos not

Yro'ue atuclaly rdenaig tihs peom in a drefenfit wrlod you dind't kenw eetsxid.

The pool is freezing but it's alright
I'm gonna welcome the water with my arms open wide

I S H M A E L   R E E D
beware  :  do not read this poem

tonite  ,  thriller was
abt an ol woman  , so vain she
surrounded herself w /
     many mirrors

it got so bad that finally she
locked herself indoors & her
whole life became the
     mirrors

one day the villagers broke
into her house  ,  but she was too
swift for them  .  she disappeared
     into a mirror

each tenant who bought the house
after that  ,  lost a loved one to
     the ol woman in the mirror :
     first a little girl
     then a young woman
     then the young woman / s husband

the hunger of this poem is legendary
it has taken in many victims
back off from this poem
it has drawn in yr feet
back off from this poem
it has drawn in yr legs

back off from this poem
it is a greedy mirror
you are into this poem   .   from
     the waist down
nobody can hear you can they   ?
this poem has had you up to here
     belch
this poem aint got no manners
you cant call out frm this poem
relax now & go w /  this poem
move & roll on to this poem
do not resist this poem
this poem has yr eyes
this poem has his head
this poem has his arms
this poem has his fingers
this poem has his fingertips
this poem is the reader & the
reader this poem

statistic   :   the us bureau of missing persons reports
      that in 1968 over 100,000 people disappeared
      leaving no solid clues
nor trace          only
           a space in the lives of their friends

Now, I know that it's every person you meet who decides what beast you become.

Once, there was a boy, who played the guitar so well,
              he played love songs
And all of his friends would sing along,
              just because… he played so well
And he drew people alone and showed them to his friends,
And they would tell him how good he was,
               but needed improvements
And he’d nod with approval
And he stared at a girl at school from a distance
               but the girl wouldn’t look back
And he told his friends he had asthma,
               so all of them knew
               and everyone was there for him

One day, in an open field, he played the guitar again,
               he played songs about friendship
And almost all of his friends sang along,
               and he played really well
The next day, he drew alone again and showed it to his friends,
And his friends would say how he did improve,
               but needed more of it
And he’d nod with a smile
And he’d look at the girl at school from a distance
               but the girl was already looking at him
Occasionally, his breathing got harder,
               his friends would worry
               so he would be sent home earlier

In school, his friends sang on stage while he played the guitar,
               they sang a song about misery
And the audience would sing along,
               even though, they didn’t sing so well
And he drew other things and showed them to his friends,
And his friends would tell him he drew things better than people,
               and told him to draw more things
And he’d nod satisfied
And the girl he gazed from a distance fall in love with him
               so he asked her to be his girlfriend
He knew how to deal with his asthma
               so it’s not much of a problem
               even though they’re not always there

After graduation, he’d play the guitar alone sometimes,
               he played songs for his friends
And he’d imagine them sing along,
               and loved it even they didn’t sing so well
And he stopped drawing because there was no one to show them,
And no one would tell him what he should do next
               and he missed them
He was alone all the time
And his girl, like his friends, was also busy and they were rarely together
               he was more alone than ever
At seven o’clock in the morning, his asthma attacked,
               the worse kind, so he didn’t knew how to deal with it
               nobody was there to help him
And on his last breath,
               he was more alone than ever…

Faded clothes,
Burnt face,
Sticky hair,
Filthy palms,
Bloodshot eyes,
Sweaty arms.

Dried throat,
Painful thighs,
Sore feet,
Divided crowd,
Pitiful players,
Swollen knuckles.

Torn hope,
Crumpled chance,
Sunned court,
Tumbling scores,
Coughing points,
Silver lining.

'Wag kang mag-alala,
'Pag nilangaw na ang
     bahagharing tuyot na
     at wala nang sigla,
Lilipad ang mga paru-parong
     matagal nang nagtago
     sa aking sikmura,
Noong mga panahong
     pinaghalong saya at kaba pa
     ang nararamdaman ko
     'pag kasama kita...
'Wag kang mag-alala,
     mamahalin pa rin kita...

'Wag kang mag-alala,
'Pag napagod na ang
     dagat sa pag-alon
     at pagsayaw ng mahinahon,
Patutulugin siya pansamantala
     ng mga minahal at
     pinagkatagu-tago kong mga ibon
Na nagkubli sa tinig mo
     habang inakala kong
     hindi lilipasin ng panahon...
'Wag kang mag-alala,
     mamahalin pa rin kita...

'Wag kang mag-alala,
'Pag tinamad nang umawit
     ang hangin para sa
     iningatang puso,
Bababa ang mga tala
     na inipon nang
     matagal at itinago,
Upang alisin ang lamig ng gabi
     na noo'y nasa mga bisig mo
     at inakalang 'di magbabago...
'Wag kang mag-alala,
    mamahalin pa rin kita...

'Wag kang mag-alala,
'Pag nakalimutan nang
     ngumiti ng araw
     dahil sa inis,
Yayakapin siya ng buwan
     kahit pa ang kapalit
     ay masunog siya nang labis,
Pipigain ang huling patak
     na luha mula sa mga matang
     tinirahan na ng hinagpis...

'Wag kang mag-alala,
     mamahalin pa rin kita
     kahit sa huling dugong
     dadaloy sa ugat ng puso
     kong sirang-sirang na...

'Wag kang mag-alala,
     mamahalin pa rin kita
     kahit sa huling hanging
     aagpas sa aking bibig
     na pagod nang sumigaw...

'Wag kang mag-alala,
mamahalin pa rin kita, Mahal...

Maybe one day you and I will meet again
When we're slightly different people;
When your temper's a bit calmer,
When my thoughts aren't that crazy,
And all our dreams are finally fireflies in an arm's length

I wouldn't make a havoc within you then,
You wouldn't drown in my miseries.

Perhaps, right now, you must stay on the shore
Keep off from my cold, unruly waves
Run as fast as you can
Find a lighthouse
Save yourself from my surge of mayhem.

Then when I've finally managed to still my flow;
When my waves are tamed
And the chaos has calmed,
Maybe we can dance again under the twinkling of stars

My giving up is beating my hope on a race...

I wanna tell you a story,
Wherein I chose you and me
     to be the protagonists

We met while waiting for a bus,
     under the shed

Rain pounding on the sidewalks
The sky is a mix of blue and violet,
     wind is whistling like a madcap

But the raindrop still reaches us
Our shoulders soaked
     we were so wet

And we glanced at each other
Meeting each other's eyes
     so we looked away fast

Silence...

You laughed
So I laughed

And we laughed our hearts out,
     for no reason

She hugged him so tight
So tight that he thought
     his bones would shatter

But he let it all night
Because he would let himself die
     if it was in the arms of her...

I took a knife
I took a pen

With it, I started to write
With it, I stabbed my chest

On a white piece of paper
Deepest so it would hurt

But no ink would come out
But no pain could be felt

It would only tear the paper
It would only wound my heart

I thought I could write, but I couldn't
I thought I would die, and I was right

I wasn't a writer
*I was a killer

She has a weird habit of biting straws when drinking
until they're beautifully deformed;
she does the same thing even with the edge of disposable cups.

She always makes faces,
that's the first thing I've seen she's done
the first time I saw her.

She easily gets jealous
when I give "too much attention"
toward other things (or people).
I can't say I like it
but that's what she does that really diversifies her
from other people I know.

She almost never combs her hair.
She pouts her lips.
She speaks in a way that's almost chivvying.
She's always insecure.
You know what they say about butterflies?
They don't see how beautiful their wings are
so they live their whole lives believing they're not beautiful.

She has this bizarre wont to start telling random stories so suddenly,
I am not yet ready to hear them.

She's strange yet fetching.
She's odd, she's unique.
She's mysterious but innocuous.
She's peculiar.

I mean, how can you just
suddenly fall in love with something unfamiliar.

Like how comforting it feels
to watch the stars for the first time.

Then, you'd realise
that you don't even know
much about the stars.

And when you finally do learn
that they're distant,
huge and probably something
you won't be able to lay your hands onto,
you'd start to think twice.

Then you'd lay your back
on the grass (or the roof)
once more.

You'd look upon the glittery night sky.
And think it's fine;

you'd still watch the stars.

It's funny how I'm a universe.
                   A universe so vast.
                                  So vast you'll never see the whole me.



The whole me? Does it *matter?

You know, I always do try to look for your flaws;
     it might save me from falling.



But the more I try to see in your faults,
     the more I try to get disappointed with your cracks,
          is the more I'm starting to get lost in your void.



I am a spark of light wandering through the darkness of you.

I am a lost star in the middle of your infinite universe.