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Mimi Hachiko Jul 9
He looks at me
What does he see?
There one second
Gone the next
Zero context
Like floaters in my eye
No need to be shy
I want to look at you
You’re nothing new
Hiding in the corners
I’m getting warmer
Meet my eyes
At least try
Mister Man I want to see you
I’ll hide in the shadows, too
You watch my every move
What do I have to prove
To let us make contact
Or are you just the abstract?
Ikigai Poet Jul 5
My heart is driven by the hymns of selflessness,
The falling sakura leaves touch the strings,
Playing a beautiful melody on shamisen.
I'm resonating,
One with the nature,
My heart beats fifty dying stars a second,
Such is the magic of a heartbreak.
The ecstatic hallucination,
The vicious pleasure,
Raging sanity,
Evaporates.
Become one with reality,
Let your wounds sing the hymn of pain.
-Ikigai Poet
Heartbreaks are often powerful.
Come, Friend.
I'll show you around the house and tell you all the trivial things that remind me of her.
(Here in the hallway)
These stacked, empty shoeboxes,
That I now keep my poems in,
These bare walls that I suppose,
She could make a better use of,
(In the living room)
This monochrome vintage tv,
That she'd have thrown out,
My books lying haphazardly on the table,
That she'd have cleared up,
My guitar that hasn't been restrung for 7 months,
The pictures of Dutch tulip fields,
The multilingual posters on the wall behind the TV,
Like a pretentious polyglot,
(Now,the kitchen)
And this bitter fragrance of tea leaves,
This divine scent of cardamom,
Rising from a hot cup of tea,
The rattle of kettles,
These dying rose petals,
Parmesan and cheddar,
The cheesier the better,
All of that pickled food,
According to my mood,
The battle of spices,
Those gingerbread slices,
Everything-
Everything reminds me of her.
"She's but a figment of your imagination,friend."
She's but a figment of my imagination, friend?
I am searching for the imperial crown,
my body injured by the earthly pain,
the voice and scent of mankind,
I am reborn in the spiral of earthly evolution,
sip of divine scents,
the seeds of my unique being sprout,
kiss me and die,
vanished from life.
My new book is going to be published soon.
Meanwhile you can purchase my previous book 'The Allure Of Time' on amazon.
As the pupae churn and shrivel,
And the worm chews on my brain,
I speak to my little devil
And ask him what’s his game

As the robbins tweet and whistle,
And the land’s engulfed in flame,
I speak to my little devil
And ask if we’re insane

As the winner claims her title,
And a horse is named a lame,
I speak to my little devil
And ask why we’re the same

As the forest shakes and rattles,
And the leech is drained in vain,
I speak to my little devil
And I tell him it’s okay


-
by Aleksander Mielnikow
Wolf Jan 28
Tick, Tick
The clock looms over me
Click, Click
Go the gears
Sick, sick
In the head
I see things that others can't. There is a large black clock constantly hovering over my head, reminding me of... something, A feeling of what I can only describe as dread.
Stark Jan 14
a wisp of smoke curls up--heavenward
until it disintegrates into nothingness

a burnt tip-- alighted by an orange flame
that flickers quick from a cheap Bic lighter

the cigarette dangles tantalizingly
between *******-- index and middle

it's a balancing act--
to stay away from the ashes
and to not drop your sustenance

dark red lips slightly parted
nearly purple, but not quite
as if a speeding car halted at an invisible border
the arbitrary line between purple and red

she exhales

the smoke coming out in elongated ohs

once the smoke clears
she is gone

after all,
she was
a hazed out,
high-defying,
hallucinatory,
dream
i tried to capture the typical woman from a hard-boiled detective fiction/noir film, in someone's dream. think broadway's city of angels, for an example.
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