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Kyle Andree Ore Mar 2014
as the rain washes away the pain
of yesterday,
i, face planted on my pillow,
rub my foot against each other
to fight the cold.
depressed and grieving,
i grew tired of dreaming.
my dreams died with you.
the rain poured hard outside,
but i cant hear its beauty.
as water drips from my window pane,
the tears flow,
with it all our love and promises.
i tried to get out of bed,
but its the only sanctuary i have right now.
its warmth and comfort reminded me
of your affections.
its scent and feel were just like
that of your skin.
i traveled back to memory lane,
i crashed in the emptiness
of its street.
i cant bear the deafening silence it
produced,
the picture it portrayed doesn't seem right
without you.
so i snapped back to reality.
though you were the only color
in my black and white world,
i need to paint a canvas of beauty
for my own sake.
slowly i turned around,
face no longer planted on my pillow.
i gradually opened my eyes
and wipe the tears away.
i faced the ceiling and looked
at its emptiness.
i don't wanna be an empty space
where people stare,
i don't wanna be on the receiving end
of your meaningless gaze.
so i let out the last of my pain and anger.
gathering what's left of my strength
and pride
i got out of bed,
got in my jeans and shirt,
went outside and
smelled the air.
the coldness of an after rain feel
brought out a chill.
i walked towards the nearest coffeehouse
and for the first time i tasted and smelled the
beauty of life in a
single cup.
Kyle Andree Ore Aug 2013
the heart is the most deceitful thing there is.
the brain knows that.
we just find it hard to understand.
  
what we generally perceive as love is nothing
but a mere illussion of what we're missing,
what we want.

the rush of emotions we suddenly experience
is so overwhelming that we can't grasp
its true intention.

we are building false hope in ourselves,
and we feed the thought
and excitement.

when we deeply think about it,
we are just inlove with the thought
of being in love.

it's more of a feel-good trigger
we unleash if we lost that
adrenaline.

it's that fairytale ending we have in our
imaginations that waters the seed
of romance in our hearts.

sad thing is we don't live in a fairytale.
i might insist pessism in your thought,
hey i don't write your love story.

blame it all in the confusion and lies
about love and your fairytale dreams,
your ever-after might not be within reach.

love is an illussion.
a trickery even rocket scientist can't explain.
mind boggling fantasies about prince and princesses.

but there is hope. ( an accomplice)

hope that even if you don't live in a castle nor rule a kingdom
believe that someone will treat you as the princess
far better you imagined yourself.

and when that day comes you might want not stay in neverneverland.
you don't grow old there.
what's the point of i-wanna-grow-old-with-you line?

love is a dangerous and a beautiful thing to enjoy.
its like sinking in a quicksand of bliss.
or swimming in a sea of chocolatey sea of tears.

but remember that in the midst
of everything you
beLIEve
in is a
LIE.

be careful.
Kyle Andree Ore Sep 2013
early morning scavengers,
the street is their turf.
little shadows of a starving nation,
a beacon of hope on a leftover bread.
wake up, wake up Dear President.
how can you eat on a silver plate?
how can you digest a corrupted food?
put your television on, please.
for putting it off wont change a thing.
look at those ***** angels,
all smudged up and dying.
your ignorance and selfishness
are tucking their wings in.
knock, knock..open your door to them,
let them play and wallow on your floor.
let them have a taste of heaven
for a taste of New York wont make it even.
wake up, wake up you sleeping thieves.
how can you not notice?
how can you sleep?
roam around the playpen you decided to rule,
and see your toy soldiers disappearing.
as you fought for a position,
they fought with their lives.
and when you cover their remains with our flag
feel their courage you trembling ****,
see how their blood tainted our native land,
from a bullet the enemy bought from your hand.

(inspired by Former President Arroyo of the Philippines and her corrupt ways.)
Kyle Andree Ore Sep 2013
two days.
that's all it took.
two days without a word from you.
and you invaded my dreams.
it was raining.
the streets empty.
deserted. sad.
like a sepia toned photograph.
of you.
walking away into a garden of nothingness.
a void.
two days and i felt that void.
its intensity shocked my senses like an epicenter.
i ran after you.
shouted.
kept screaming your name.
but you didnt even glimpsed.
then you stopped.
you're fading.
like embers burning.
lighting the spaces between each glare.
i am seeing you in every direction.
sparks. flashes.
images. memory.
i am missing you.
your innocence in this obscenity.
your truth in these lies.
and your hand against mine.
then i saw your smile.
like a postcard from heaven.
but when all my inhibitions were starting to fade.
the wind blew you away.
gone.
except for one ember that kept on floating around.
i grabbed it.
a picture of your eyes.
staring.
staring at me.
i knew it was yours.
nobody looked at me the way you do.
with loving stare so inviting and assuring.
maybe in your silence i am remembered.
myabe in your silence i should remember.
i saw you in that dream.
saw you looking at me.
like no one does.
so like the embers.
i will fade away.
burning.
lighting the path.
remembering at last.
my path towards you.
Kyle Andree Ore Aug 2013
you're all grown up now.
look at them staring at you.
desire. envy. lust.
you can see it.
their intentions leaking out through
their eyes.
they trace your skin and draw you in
their memories.
oh poor mongrels.
inch by inch they get closer.
you can smell the foulness of their
being.
the stench of pure malice fuming out.
like predators.
and you are the vermin.

you're all grown up now.
but your past is catching up on you.
you cant erase the scratches of your misfortunes.
the wailing sound of agony in your voice
as you struggled to get loose.
it still haunts you.
the ghost of your past.
the ghost that defiles after a deep slumber.
a memento.
not a worthy one.

you're all grown up now.
but nothings changed.
you are still a shadow of your old self.
a victim of circumstances.
thats what you are.
you embraced the tragedy.
no tears can cleanse the guilt you
hid inside.
the anger in your voice,
the remorse,
the denial.
overshadowed by the pleasure in
your moans.
Kyle Andree Ore Jul 2013
i wander around your territory,
keeping my imprints on your skin.
a sigh of relief and a moan of satisfaction
take you where nowhere you've been.
flicker of my tongue,
the tremble in your voice
move closer,
closer as skin.
the smell of your innocence lingers
in my senses,
the taste of your fear excites me.
the look in your eyes
turmoil in your stare,
the awe in your face humbles my existence.
i a mere mortal in your sight,
a sight of the past.
the past is just a few seconds away.
an eternity will unfold,
walk my path,
uncloak my victim
stand in all your glory.
your presence hungers my foul
reason for living.
my tongue on your skin,
i taste you
you feed me.
your eyes provokes my inner peace.
what do you see?
is it life?
or is it death?
a swift movement,
a tragic death awaits.
my doppelganger sees how you live your life,
while i cant wait how to end it.
the beauty in my voice captivates you.
leading you towards your befall.
you yourself prepared my feast with
your false judgment.
i was never your reason to live
but you were mine.
you cling to my robe the way
you cling to your life.
too late mademoiselle i had your
tombstone made an hour ago.
i undress you,
and taste your love juice one more time.
ecstasy flows down your veins,
you moan in gratitude
i brought you wrath in return.
you cried in a bite-forced.
i smelled life,
i tasted life
but not yours alone.
intriguing i say,
so i sink both fangs deeper.
another blood of total innocence indeed
and it tasted just like mine.
you saw the horror on my face.
you smiled.
you *****!
you let out a soft dying laugh.
delirium hits like a speeding car crashing.
i have killed my own
you deceived me.
you knew my planned deception all along
and countered on your own.
you ***** old hag!
you let yourself get killed
so i could **** him.
a creature of my own,
floating inside your womb.
Kyle Andree Ore Sep 2013
Today’s generation breathes on superficiality. Always looking for someone who will make them feel good and look better, like a trophy they carry around. People are going crazy over a buff physique and luscious curves never knowing the real person behind the costume. Mind you, I am into looking good and am a love handle-hating man with a highly elusive six-pack abs but being superficial is just not what I was taught growing up. I was taught to look for substance and not just the stance. Know what I mean? What will you do after you got bored with her? After you’re through with her? You have nothing in common. What will you talk about? You just went after her to make you’re friends jealous, to make your status as a ladies man more credible, to make you look like a demigod and makes you more popular than before. All of these are false judgments about being with someone. There’s less love around my love handles now but character still matters to me. There are bad apples that we, Adams, shouldn’t be tempted, like the girls our mother warned us about. Like the woman who has more degree than a thermometer, not only bilingual but travelled the globe more than a stewardess. I’m not saying that they’re a no-no but they’re on the major league while you are on the little league. They will step on your ego like an elephants stampede and breathe life out your senses. My point is, be realistic. Get to know the person. Know what she wants. Know that women aren’t born with titanium-based sense of confidence and that insecurity will creep in her system. You know the classic: Am I getting fat? Is she hotter than me? Do I look old? You know how it goes. Insecurity has moved with time and even the modern woman remains vulnerable. Easy on the emotions ‘coz when it comes to sensitivity they’re the warden in this joint. So do your homework. She may be the world’s most desired model, capable of reaching a Ferrari’s top speed but she still needs assurance. Sometimes. Occasionally. Periodically. Always. Know that and you’ll be rewarded. Appreciate her. In any size or shape, spell it in front of her. Make literal or mental notes of the big and small deals in her life. And love the princess. Naturally. Stir, simmer and serve it steaming hot. Be patient. Watch her play. Laugh. Cry. See her at her worse. Take time to see her with her friends and family. These are the people she is most comfortable with and will make her act naturally. Don’t jump hastily into a relationship even if it’s the most logical thing to do. Prefer to be comfortable with each other idiosyncrasies included. Heed my word as your guide to a better you and a more blissful relationship, just in case. This will save you from heartaches and depression. And you will not end up seeing someone pull out the yellow card in the relationship and you won’t be making that 2 AM text messages and more importantly the 3AM breakdown.

Rushing in is like passing a busy intersection. You might escape some speeding junkies but you can’t dodge the midnight meat train when it marks you. You’ll end up on the pavement licking your wounds and wishing God will give you a second chance. When we let our emotions decide for us we might as well be a puppet. When we affiliate our need to be with someone with lust, which is insatiable, we will become uncontented. The process leading to forging an actual relationship with someone you were initially attracted to has changed dramatically. The days of long and winding courtship where we woe our object of adoration is gone. Today being intimate don’t apply to couples anymore. The pleasures of carnality are taking the world over and our concept of love is being shaped by ******* bunnies. The line separating love and lust is getting distorted and thinner. No wonder labels such as FuBu, FWB, PP (Pleasure Pal) and Rebound have gained pop culture concurrence. They simply mean consenting bedfellows who contend themselves that there is no ocean of difference between couplehood and ****** friendship besides the scope of emotions involved. Friends can. Especially when, lately, people have become savvy to the idea that *** does not ruin the relationship, which is now rendered all but platonic in an entirely emotional sense. There will be those who disagree and will protest but its making things more audible, making the idea spread like virus. The concept of a FuBu, FWB, PP or whatever you call it is inevitable for a variety of reasons. For starters lets say old school values have been exposed to be total fronting, hypocritical billboard signs of secretly debauched Puritans. Some just start on a harmless get together, a few chitchats, ***** and more *****. And when the night is over and it’s time to go home, some take detours and most of it leads to bed. An exception is on the rebound - dumper-dumpee. Rebound is trying to get back at your dumper, making them jealous or guilty. This involves an innocent victim who’ll fall in the trap of being played on. Believe me, you don’t want to be at the end of the rope. The emotion that comes with the need to be with someone is totally deceiving. Even if you and your date have gone out a few times (even slept every time you see each other) but neither one has confirmed that you are indeed dating, then don’t assume or you’ll suffer the embarrassment of your dating status being denied.

Relationships have drastically changed and this wave of change will press on, as the players get more adept at playing the cards dealt them. And even if the rules of the game have changed dramatically to allow certain breaches on morality, people have to be more cautious in making decisions pertaining to relationships. Never bite off more than you can chew. Or you can kiss your **** goodbye.
Kyle Andree Ore Aug 2013
we were never introduced.
but i watched you.
beautifully.
adoringly.
in my dreams vividly.

ah.
i observed you.
like the way you drink your
coffee.
the way you sipped.
i noticed every bit of it.
how you enjoyed it.
how you stirred clockwise
with a spoon.
and like crazy, going zigzag,
with a stirrer.
its like an addiction.
my addiction?
still you.

you see i am no stalker.
im an observer.
maybe an admirer.
a lover? im not sure.
but this distance,
this rather short gap of
affection you own
but is unnoticed.
if only i can spit it out
and let it crawl towards you.
but i find it gross.
hahaha.
plain stupid.

you own me.
with every stare,
unintentional i know,
with luscious smiles,
i melt.
i get unmolded.
i morphed into something
really unknown.
oh you my trickster.
how you do that i do not know.

i hope i get the chance to
let you know.
to hold your hand,
even if it's just from a
friendly shake.
oh the joy it would bring.
days of uninterrupted daydreams and
nights of being wishful.

how you make me write
from poetry, to stories.
how you wanna make me
carve your name on
a tree.
cliche.
but still i wish you know.
how i dreamed of flying kites together.
my way of trying to reach heaven
with you. :)

but you are just a dream.
and i am still a dreamer.
i am still dreaming.
of you.
and me.
but not of you and me.
oh mournful reality.

-end-
Kyle Andree Ore Aug 2013
Tonight,
watch as the stars fall
and burn everything
in its path.
feel the twinkle
in your eyes vanish
as you feel its wrath.
like stars, love will enchant
your eyes and heart
with a promise.
a promise of a beautiful night.
but behind its grandeur
is its nature
to engulf in torment
everything it
touches.
if only you can get closer
and experience its deceit.
then you'll wonder
and question,
if it's that beautiful why is it out of reach?
Kyle Andree Ore Jul 2013
from His word comes the heavens,
    from His breath comes the earth,
from the dirt comes the birth,
    (from dirt to a man)
from man comes the woman,
     from companion to a mate,
from their first walk to a date,
     from the warning to the wanting,
from obeying to deceiving,
     from being free to the Tree,
from the fruit to being caught,
     from the serpent and to repent,
from man to "its because of the woman,"
     and "woman what have you done?"
and from Eden to out of the Garden,
     from man to Adam,
from woman to Eve,
      from being blessed to the
start of a mess.

this is the story of our downfall.
Kyle Andree Ore Aug 2013
there she goes.
a visitor in a dream.
a pinch in the heart.
a blur to the sight.
the air i can't breathe.
Kyle Andree Ore Sep 2013
empty expression on your face,
a weary traveler with untied shoelace.
you look years way off your prime,
now a remnant left by time.
where were the vultures who preyed on your ****,
who stayed with you for they scavenged your meal.
now you solely walk the streets,
glancing at the faces of people you meet.
life gave you so much then,
you have everything except for a queen.
but you lose yourself and went astray,
overdosed and overused you went the wrong way.
you stayed on that track for years,
cause you can't escape the devil in your ears.
finally you saw your reflection on the water,
a blurry image so clear you staggered.
what happened to me? you asked,
and shook your head as you remembered the past.
tears trickled down to your lips,
where you taste your own anguish and the nightmares
from your sleep.
your heart cried out in agony and pain,
for you left behind those who waited in vain.
you washed your face and turned around,
walk the opposite direction,
you're homeward bound.
Kyle Andree Ore Nov 2013
i must now ebb

the time has come

to sail my oceans

rolling away from you

like the waves from the shore

rippling out to the vastness of

that sea that beckons

my ship of folly

i’ll not ask you

to stand the night vigil

on the shoreline

of memory

you are here

on the beaches of my memory

even though i drift the tides

if you should look

into a starlit night

and see a reflection of me

know only that

i will one day

come crashing again

to the shore

swept homeward

by the pull

of the tide

and

YOU..
Kyle Andree Ore Aug 2013
i have a secret.
can you keep one?
you might wanna come closer,
as close as a whisper.
i speak the truth
of wonders and mystery,
but not of bliss.
i saw you in the
abyss.
you...
you...
you do not exist.
Kyle Andree Ore Aug 2013
behind the movie screens,

behind the fall of the curtain,

behind the defeaning screams,

behind the fame and the dreams,

behind all this glory,
   an actor fell on his knees
      and brokedown.

behind the limelight is a stage that
   doesn't require any set ups.

behind the character is a story
   that dont have a script.

behind all this drama and chaos,
   the Director says, "Cut!"
      and says, "Take Two!"

this is the story of an actor in his make believe,
   temporary world.

and the Director who gives second chances and
   many more chances.

in this stage called Life, may You focus
   Your spotlight on me Lord.
Kyle Andree Ore Aug 2013
if love cannot be tamed then let the
heavens unleash it.
like a raging chariot to the sound
of a trumpet.
like a hawk soaring down on
its prey.
with claws grasping the heart and
devouring the love.
like a shamans chant.
hypnotic and in trance.
a hearts dance is mysterious and
captivating.
but not like dust that
rain can wash away.
not like lust,
can be satisfied.
like thirst,
can be quench.
but love is insatiable,
everlastiing.
it ends not in death
nor sleep.
for in dreams love can
be spoken with a purpose.
a purpose one is fearful
enough to share
in reality.
Kyle Andree Ore Oct 2014
one day i will swim that ocean.
i will brave the currents.
i will tame the sharks.
i will slice and dice through the gigantic waves.
for roads are too cliche and the sky is just boring.
i want my journey towards you be filled with adventure.
i'm no knight.
knights don't swim.
they'll drown with all that armor.
i don't wanna take flight too.
there's just nothing to bump into.
well except planes.
and migrating birds.
only if the carebears still sit on the clouds.
i'll gladly ask for that rainbow.
but no.
i'm all eyes on the sea.
i'm no Atlantean.
i don't bow down to King Namor.
but the waters just the temptation i need.
i want it to devour me.
so i can get out of it alive.
i want it to take me to the abyss.
so i can tell you who lives in there.
maybe Hades.
or Snow White.
who knows.
maybe Pikachu.
har.
nonetheless, no obstacles too great that i cant fathom.
a mans love can break through time,
space, illusion, even death.
but i don't wanna die.
not just yet.
that's why i need to take this adventure.
one day.
one day when everything's in chaos.
why go when everything's in chaos?
ah.
i love ironies, that's why.
i want to find my oasis in you.
with you.
or you can find it in me.
with me.
and even if the world crumbles.
even if the sun burns a thousand degrees hotter.
hey love,
will you be my shade from the scorching sun?
Kyle Andree Ore Aug 2013
your name alone is poetry.
immaculate is your stare.
your eyes.
sacred.
black pearls from the depths of your soul.
ever whispering the wonders it brings.
divine. so underrated is the word.
to describe the sensation of your touch.
your skin so supple and tempting.
ravishing.
its radiance. blinding.
delectable.
luscious.
indulging.
a sensory overload of emotions.
an aftermath of dreaming what your
lips taste like.
succulent?
heavenly?
i am lost for words.
let the gods utter reasons so
distinct i might get the point.
pleasant but dangerously addictive?
just maybe so.
but not even close to obsession.
just the mere sight of you makes
the view grand.
a spectacle to behold.
in awe.
for you are my poetry.
gratifying.
just full of mystery.

— The End —