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May 2015 · 585
Untitled
Ryan Cenzon May 2015
I stopped writing poetry yet here I am again
Staring at the skies like I know how it will end
This poem makes no sense and so doesn't my mind
After all the drugs no poetry was left behind
Mar 2014 · 562
Untitled
Ryan Cenzon Mar 2014
So this is gonna be my life

I realize that I can't fly

I lay awake until 4 AM

Everyday I want to die.
Feb 2014 · 1.4k
Staying Clean
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2014
I said I'd stop and I'd stay clean

But we all know that talk is cheap

I wanted to turn away from this mess

Wanted to recover from the nights I didn't sleep.

It was easy to quit under the glare of morning light,

But I can't shake the urge to give it a little kiss

goodbye.

And it's a stabbing pain, to take the truth,

That my downfall is in the moments when my fingers touch the sky.

I'll try to fix myself once more

Try to push away and kick it all.

To see that what goes up must surely come down

And that getting high will eventually lead me to a fall.
Wrote this in a bathroom stall
Feb 2014 · 577
Goodbye Without Hello
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2014
I found her through a wall of white

Materializing in photographs and letters, she was exactly how I dreamed.

I felt a connection,  intangible and quick,

But so right and so destined was how it all seemed.

I don't really understand

Why she said goodbye without hello.

I guess love is like a race,

And I was running much too slow.
Jan 2014 · 1.2k
One Sunday Night
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2014
One Sunday night, I fell inlove,

Her beauty saved me from despair.

Between kisses, she said; "I see myself in you."

I kissed her back, replied; "It's probably the hair."


She doesn't love me back, like nobody ever will,

So I crawl back to my bed in familiar Quarantine.

There, I'll sleep forever and go nowhere,

For it's time to accept that the grass is never green.
For Angie.
Oct 2013 · 4.3k
Manila after Dark
Ryan Cenzon Oct 2013
Welcome to Manila.

Feel free to fill your lungs with the nocturnal breeze

Signed by the nation's capital as it flows its life on the roads that lie under the moon's lunar glow.

The scents of Sampaguitas, rugby, human excrement, and the smell of burning gasoline

Constituting the sources of a rising problem that pollutes the air of a land

A land where people ignore the screams of health issues

For the latest news about events in the envied personal lives

Of hypocritical second-rate and overpaid actors who have become the annoying faces

Of household television screens in the Philippines.


To the left you'll see a wooden cart filled with discarded recyclables that serve as a livelihood by day,

And a bed by night as it stands on the road lined with the gutters

The gutters that serve as stomachs of the city, the only stomachs of the city that aren't suffering

From starvation and Ulcers as they are filled to the brim with the population's toxic waste,

Reeking into the air with a stench that only compliments

The smells of poverty and corruption, as the taxes that are meant to pay for progress

Are redirected to the politician's own pockets to be spent on his prostitutes and casino gambling.


Hear the music of manila; the harmonious sounds of infants that weep

As they are trapped in a living nightmare as they toss and turn and try to sleep along the roads

Buzzing with the sounds of beeping horns through the late rush hour traffic

Mixed with the sounds of the occasional clink of the falling silver peso coin into beggars' cups,

And other  homeless people  under the delusional impression

That pedestrians actually care for their well being and listen to their creaking voices

As they beg for spare change, while deep down they beg and pray

For a total change in the states of their starving lives.


The dark reveals the most candid face of the nation

like an ironic twist in nature as in the shadows, more is seen than under the burning  light of the
pretentious day.

The street lights are like the eyes that witness  ice picks piercing innocent  flesh
and purses being taken from passers-by

While in the shadows of alleys nobody sees the slow and painfully traumatic scenes
of young teen-aged girls being *****

And motorcycle gangs that rain semi-automatic ammunition into skulls of lawyers just stopping by at Shell for gasoline.

Seldom heard in the air are the faint whispers in heads that hold the scattered thoughts and memories
of depressed drug addicts walking along Chinatown near the railroad tracks

Inhabited by people who blame their neighbors, their families, and the government,

And never blame themselves for their lives that have brutally fallen beneath the vicious line of everlasting poverty.
Experimenting with an execution of poetry far from my traditional style
Aug 2013 · 1.1k
Whispers of My Sins
Ryan Cenzon Aug 2013
My soul holds secrets, like the sky holds constellations.

Pulsing through my veins are the darkest whispers of the sins that I keep lodged down,

Just dripping its poison down my throat,

As my gag reflex slowly desensitizes itself,

Clogged by the great fear it shares with my lips,

Fear like a shadow that hangs around me under the horizons of the painted afternoon skies,

Fear of the fatal judgement of the general population,

As they point their fingers that are like barrels of loaded pistols,

Ready to shoot me for my sins.
May 2013 · 919
Inhuman Beings
Ryan Cenzon May 2013
The cries are heard, from the souls of the ******,

As they drown in melancholia, while others watch, but fail to help.

In the ocean of pure depression, they struggle,

But their feet, constricted, by clusters of kelp.


They swallow the waves, but still starve for sympathy,

They lose their sanity, the torture, turns them wild.

And the inhuman beings just stare, at the lives being demolished,

Like the vulture, that stared, at Carter's dying child.
Apr 2013 · 1.2k
The Willow
Ryan Cenzon Apr 2013
The willow is confused,

Thinks whether to wilt or bloom.

The lake will catch all her tears,

The lake will be her passionate groom.


I feel the seismic shakes up north,

The eagle of terror, alights to land.

We follow the cracks, on the ground, so dry,

Thee lines on the dirt, like the lines on my hand.


We sail, amidst, the howling winds,

The storm is a cyclops, and we search for his eye,

But the eye we seek cannot be found,

The storm is blind, and the calm is a lie.


Days that come, feel forever bright.

Nights crawl in and fill the clouds with gloom.

So the willow, is confused, and she can't decide,

If today, she wilts, or continue the bloom.
Feb 2013 · 401
Secrets of Your Soul
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
Tell me your secrets,

Hidden behind your pupils, all the secrets of your soul.

Your days and your nights,

the waves, and the flights,

Your eyes glow like the warm embers of burning coal.


Tell me your passion,

As our lips touch beside the oceanic passion and infinite waves.

let's fly to the skies, up to the stars,

land on Cydonia, we'll dance on Mars.

And we will paint on the walls of the caves.



Tell me your attraction,

As I stare into you, every fabric of me crawls out in elation.

My blood and my tears,

my strengths and my fears,

My fists clench hard as I stare at the perfect creation.
Feb 2013 · 650
I Will Love You
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
I will love you,
As you burn with the lordly roses,
in the zen gardens of peace.
As the world slowly turns its back on you.
I will become your disease.
when nobody hears your painful cries,
I will.



I will love you,
when your soul begins to wither,
when the oceans stop caressing the sand,

when you have fallen lower than ever,
whenever you'd need me to hold your hand.

And when nobody sees the pain in your eyes,

I will.



I will love you,
even if you try to stop the world from spinning,
even as the great seas on the moon stop flowing,
and when loss isn't far from winning.

As the fountains of youth run out

I will.
Feb 2013 · 615
The Absence of You
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
The absence of you,

is the presence of fangs digging deep into my neck,

brutally separating my soul from my body.


You were once my candle,

helping me live in the darkness,

providing a faint glow of hope.


The absence of you,

Has created melancholy in my chest.

I wish the candle's flame had lingered for a while.
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
Your eyes, like a child's.

Reminds me of innocence and being free.

As I look into them, I see my reflection,

But what do they see in me?


Do they see the monster I have been?

With all the violence and hard liquor?

Have they seen the blood that I shed?

Have they seen how the crimson has grown thicker?


Or do they see the sunny past,

when we were young, and bells chimed?

When we didn't care about the darkness,

and cared less, if nothing rhymed?


You and I will never change,

through the days, of love and strife,

now take your pretty eyes off my face,

and look forward, to the beauty of life.
Feb 2013 · 1.2k
Relativity of Life
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
The world, in the eyes of some,

may be a kingdom, with a proud and princely lion.

A Neverland, with flowing poems,

Where the embraces be tighter, than the belt of Orion.


In the eyes of others, this home is lonely Hell,

where one's escape, is another's dream.

for they have watched, the smiles, of all happy,

they have been caught, in the shadow, of the others'  beam.


I have witnessed, this confusing life,

from different angles, with bipolar eyes.

The euphoria, I know, of smiling, and flight,

the pain, I know, for my throat explodes with cries.


If there's something, I had learned,

from all the emotions that felt so true,

it's that this life, is relative,

for what I see as Red, they may see as Blue.
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
Full of hope, looking forward to tomorrow,

to forget the pain, and walk another mile.

for in the dark, I have survived,

Just like the thousand children of the mother Nile.
Feb 2013 · 552
Tenebris II
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
From the beginning, I have known,

That the state of happiness, is a lie.

For if happiness was real, and I could have it,

there would be no tears in my face, no tears in the sky.


With the tear atop my iris,

and my vision of the world, it cruelly shrouds,

All I can feel is the suicidal morning rain.

Flowers in my garden, drowning in tears from the clouds.


My heart is deeply wounded,

like wounded was the heart of Poe.

O, his pain, always bleeding on his words,

O, his pain, I thought I'd never know.


Return to my arms, my love, my dear,

with my broken heart, this is all I implore.

Or the fields, I shall ask, if my misery will ever end,

*Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'
Feb 2013 · 677
Tenebris I
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
Look at what I have become,

A lethargic creature deprived of all dreams.

Crawling on the rough seas of concrete,

blistered, and wounded, and full of such raw depression.


Prowling through the fog,

in obscure alleys, colder than the tainted windows of my soul.

In the night when the moon stalks me,

in the night when tears flow heavier than the weight on my shoulders.


I have become invisible and dormant,

creating tornadoes filled with the dandelions that carry all my wishes,

left only with the wise trees to talk to,

and I hear nothing but whispers of the leaves in their indifferent responses.
Feb 2013 · 916
Crowns We Had Once Worn
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
We walk atop the clouds,

above the oceans, that have swallowed,

the crowns that we had once worn,

wave, after wave, dragging the sands into her tables.


Look upon the sky of black,

where the thousand stars reside,

while in the dark, they harmoniously spin,

the seven brothers of the Alpha and Omega.


Brothers, once united strong,

have grown apart with seas in between,

now look at one another with discrimination and disgust,

eyes now containing anger, and fists clenched with iron.


The comets, they fill my pupils,

my heart now filled with stone,

as we walk the path of good and evil,

and watch Castor and Pollux cut each other's throats.
Feb 2013 · 418
Whispers of the Leaves
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
In the dark, I weep,

as in the air, fumes, I smell.

Alive I may appear to be,

but my soul now burns in Hell.


Memories of happiness in my hands,

memories of watching it swim away,

now, left am I, to wonder,

why I still live to see the day.


The sky has promised joy,

December winds dragged me along,

the leaves had whispered, that you were for me,

and now, I bleed, for they were wrong.
Feb 2013 · 1.5k
Tunnel
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
Walking in the darkness,

lead only by the sound of scurrying mice

listening for laughter,

for the dead voices do not suffice.


They say the light is at the end of this tunnel,

another lie to keep myself alive,

to try to endure it all,

the pain shall forever thrive.


Many times, have I painfully witnessed,

illusions of the sun after the rain,

I thought I had seen the illumination,

but actually headed towards me,

was a train.
Feb 2013 · 512
Looking at the sun
Ryan Cenzon Feb 2013
Looking at the sun

in the hammock of Milky Way

as my colours slowly change

into red from the grey.


Burning like the coal

slowly disintegrating into ashes

feeling heavier than the world

to the seas, the sky slowly crashes.


The son of fear is hate

it slowly creeps into my skin

I no longer understand

the power growing within.


Slowly, I feel it spread,

as through the city, I stride.

Feel the rush inside my veins,

feel the anger boiling inside.
Jan 2013 · 572
34 Days of Grace
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2013
Opened, have both my eyes,

now, I am awake,

from a lucid dream in hibernation,

where I felt my heart will never break.


A fair angel, is what I saw,

with dazzling white feathers,

an angel so full of beauty

here to save me from the Nethers.


Waking up on the cold cement floor,

tears run down my ugly face.

But thankful am I, for the short escape,

For the thirty-four days of Grace.
Jan 2013 · 774
Solstice of winter
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2013
You are now as cold to me

as the solstice of winter

I am bothered so,

like my soul punctured by a splinter.


Talk to me forever,

my ears shall listen to your trouble.

If in your heart a city burns,

I will help you clean the rubble.


I apologize for everything,

that sets off your days,

I apologize for my burden,

and my apologetic ways.
Jan 2013 · 595
Rhythm Unspoken
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2013
My bleeding head on a platter,

Stands in it's rightful place.

I see them rejoice as they stare,

at the fear frozen in my face.


Terror given, be terror received,

the universe's rhythm unspoken.

throw a stone, it will shoot back,

crack a life, and yours be broken.


No matter how fast, how far I ran,

I was found to pay my lifetime debt.

The pain I had caused has bounced back to me,

through bleeding pain, I regret.
Jan 2013 · 409
Dream in this endless night
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2013
I thought I was done,

With the suffering, and pain,

The day I thought was brightening,

Immediately slammed the ground with rain.


I had seen hope,

I had seen the beauty of light.

But what I hoped was a happy day,

was just a dream in this endless night.


I don't understand,

how this pain is aborning,

I want to cry all through the night,

and just die in the morning.
Jan 2013 · 859
Oasis
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2013
I journey through life's desert,

as did the ancient Jewish slaves.

Each step I take,

feels like I swim against the waves.



I seek the immaculate oasis,

the one sought out for ages.

in her hands lie a promise, to cleanse my wounds,

and to free me from my cages.


The oasis is an illusion.

Corrupt oaths, and stolen dreams.

She will drive you desperately mad,

'till you break your own seams


I accept the desert's truth,

That no rescue lies in the void,

Alone I cleanse the screaming wounds,

on my face, the sands destroyed.
Jan 2013 · 643
Together
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2013
Share with me the secrets,

clasped between the walls of your fortress.

The secrets that shall bring light unto me.


Join me in my journey,

as we gently embark

towards moments of imperfection and perfection alike.


Together we shall walk,

along the shores of the deadly seas, we will not fear,

for we will be together.


The warmth of your presence,

and the joy of your love,

gives me refuge from the painful world.


Pain may come,

but dear, I fear not.

Infinite, we are,

together.
Jan 2013 · 750
Impending Doom
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2013
We will destroy ourselves, ironically,

for the reason will be the search for peace.

The heralds will sing songs of harmony,

and they will echo through the seas.


So desperate for order,

this tattered world, they try to mend.

Opposing nations with hostility,

they try so hard to blend.


Through the thick forest mists,

I spot with both my jaundiced eyes,

the silhouette of impending chaos,

and I already hear the desperate cries.


The soldiers all prepare,

to fight each other's deadly waves,

digging trenches in the soil,

that will soon become their graves.


Never is it too late to accept,

that Death will always write the page,

all history begins,

with the doom that we wage.
Jan 2013 · 861
Our souls will be
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2013
Any challenge, shall I meet,

for you and I to be together.

Horned demons,godlike sorcerers,

I fear not time, I fear not weather.


Travel, will I, through hills and urban plains,

through freezing snow, and scorching heat,

through the far African rains.

I assure you, fair lady, as I genuflect my knee,

I will be faster than the vultures, in the sky,

Faster than the eagle, with wings spread free.


So, patience, glorious woman,

the day, soon we'll see.

When Apollo's Golden afternoon is blazing,

Together, our souls will be.
Jan 2013 · 524
All I know
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2013
I want to be with you my dear,

'till the winds cast me away.

To give you so much screaming love,

And we shall never fray.


We will never leave our paradise dreams,

The sand crumbling beneath our feet.

Euphoria, always, You and I,

Happiness shall never fleet.



As I clasp your hands so tightly,

Our life will never bane.

As the skies stay bright, at the break of dusk,

the Moon will never wane.


The pastures dance with the southern winds,

as the Tulips seek the water flow.

Don't ask me to say anything, dear,

for 'I love you' is all I know.
Jan 2013 · 853
Floating like Dandelion
Ryan Cenzon Jan 2013
Floating like Dandelion,

like lucid dreams, dragged by the wind.

Floating so ecstatically,

painful memories we rescind.


The land once deserted,

now heavily inhabited and teeming.

The stained fabrics of our history,

slowly we are cleaning.


Afternoons so peaceful,

spent in the windy meadows of our mask.

Finally, in the sky, I see the light,

in it, forever shall I bask.

— The End —