I'm sick and tired of hearing you
In different occasions and venue
The way you're fixed in their minds like tattoo.

You're in a child and adult's mind
Uttering you like they do know a thing
About places, people, culture and beliefs
Which you're set in that we ought to believe.

They're stating you as if you're a fact
Never doubted your reliability
If you're being too good to be true
Or too exagerrated to agree with.

I always find myself contradicting their knowledge about you
And wish that I could change you
But you'll no longer be stereotype if you do
'Cause that's what makes you----You.


Krystal Marcelo
06/28/16

*But originally written 04/17/16

mine øjenlåg er jordslået
jeg græder krystal mens jeg smiler
alle mine sårbarhedder er skrevet ned i tilfældige litterære samlinger og forsvundet i oceanerne
smerten hvirvler rundt i min krop og i mine blodbaner er der sne
min hud sidder løst på mine knogler og du forstår ingenting
du har ridset dit navn ind i mit sind med et sløvt skår fra et ødelagt spejl
du har beskadiget mit indre, på en fason hvorved jeg holder af smerten
jeg ændrer mig så jeg kan passe ind i de tynde sprækker og hvor ville det være nemt hvis vi kunne spole tiden tilbage

my most recent self published Lulu book, [MOON tattoo], was reviewed by Krystal Sierra, and part of what she says is here:

Because of the relationship between the line and white space, the reader turns back to the poem again and again, a practice that speaks to religious tradition, incantation byway of word and image, how the poem itself becomes the way God, or Spirit, communicates with us via channels we understand, the interplay between the word and white space much like what we know and do not know about the nature of the divine. – Krystal Sierra

~

some poems, from [MOON tattoo]:

[level]

brother is digging barehanded in the backyard a hole for what he hopes is the alien of god’s choice. as for existence, my mother’s is low on mine. my father is keeping out of the same sentence any mention of ****** and totem pole. no one including you cares for my sister’s worry that this no this is the bottom of a rock. if asked, I will say I was visiting with my arms the museum of rowboats during the regional spike in baptisms we as a family failed to interrupt.

~

[meditation]

summer was for sexting and for watering the scarecrow’s spine. say it with me this was not that summer. as a ghost might surprise the mother and go to salt, a doll might remember its teeth.

He's just a blurred figure now in her memory
But his love will last till eternity.


Krystal Marcelo
*02/06/16

Fond of scribbling words
Especially when I'm down
A way of letting it go
A way of easing me down.

Now scanning a notebook
Full of unreadable writings
Like it's some kind of stenograph
Which I only can understand.

Some say that I have the gift
And some say that I'm brave enough
To tackle about my life,
To write about my pains.

But I can't see it that way
'Cause all the words in my mind
All the ideas I'm writing down
Isn't enough to express what's inside.

I'm dying to write all of it
To lessen my burdens
But I hardly find the words
And not all of it could be shared.

As ideas struck my mind
And I'm starting to write it down
It's where the complication start
As the words wrestle to form a phrase.

I can't make it rhyme all the time
But it doesn't matter
As long as it's lyrical
A free verse poem will do.

I follow no rule in writing
'Cause the best way to write for me
And the only way I know,
Is to write from the heart...


Krystal Marcelo
04/28/16

*But originally written 04/16/16

We never touched.
We never kissed,
Nor did our limbs entwine.
Yet your translucent beauty
made an impression in my mind.
We never spoke
I never met
this beauty of the screen.
A girl they called Emanuelle
In a film some thought obscene.

She is dead of Cancer now,
A Krystal so sublime:
All youth and beauty withers
How briefly it was thine.

I have to much energy senosing me in endless circles. I feel like I'm driving. Mad when I have to much things I can't win or drown in projects that seem to suffocating me.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 all day and night the pure krystal bottle of ***** brings down the stress and anger

He is his mother's only son
He has his father's feature
But a little shorter than he was
Maybe because of working at early age.

His mother whom he adore
With all his heart
Left them to seek for the love
She never felt with his father.

Several months after
His father died
And inspite of being the only heir
He got nothing because of his greedy Aunts.

At the early pace of his life
And all the circumstances he's been through
Yet got no explanation for all that happened
He self-destruct himself and become a rebel.

He searched for love and understanding in other people
But always end up to another heartbreak
So he blame his mother for everything
And hated her for the rest of his life.

Then one day found himself
Standing in front of a coffin
And upon realizing it, it's too late
He ran out of time...

He grieved so much
But can't shed a tear
Maybe he had drained all of it
'Cause by all his pain.

With his unspoken words
And unexpressed feelings
He just strum his guitar
And sang a song from his heart.


Krystal Marcelo
*02/29/16

A discarded Bazooka Joe gum wrapper
Two pieces of aluminum foil
14 pixie sticks of various flavors
A packet of fire sauce from Taco Bell
A half-gallon carton of spoiled milk
A half-eaten roast beef sandwich, covered in olive green mold

A wilted red rose
A broken picture frame with a picture that was ripped in half
An empty champagne glass with red lipstick in the shape of a woman’s lips on the side

One double A battery
A green rabbit’s foot
A 9" long strand of shoelace, frayed at both ends
Many crushed, empty beer cans

A torn white t-shirt
A strand of friendship beads
A partially legible postcard from Milan, Italy with a woman’s handwriting on it that read:
     “...just can’t handle...anymore...
     Life is...just want you....
    away...
    -Des... [Rest of signature illegible]”

Several ***** pennies, scattered about
21 cigarette butts, some spilled from the ashtray, all the same brand
A $173.44 electric bill
A deck of playing cards from the Pyramid Casino with a hole through the center, the Queen of Hearts is shredded and strewn about the driver’s side floorboard

A pink feather boa
A stale half-full box of cheap cigars
A pen featuring the logo of the Las Vegas Hilton
A business card from an insurance salesman with a non-descript name

The label from a bottle of Krystal
Several flyers from various escort services

On the passenger’s door: A large splatter of sun-dried blood
In the dirt outside:

A pair of men’s sunglasses
One shell casing from a .45
A Kimber .1911 handgun
A male skeleton with a hole in the skull’s right temple

your crystal mask,
cut to perfection
radiates in the burning
heat, a bright beacon,
blinding, bedazzling

yet it is the very same crystal,
that is so fragile,
so see-through
your crystal tears radiate
in the transparent
rays

Depressing days have come on my way again
Stabbing me on my unhealed wound
Tearing me inside for the same reasons
Making my heart heavy and these tears unstoppable.

I can feel the pain
But unlike the way it used to
I don't feel so blue this time
I wonder why is that so.

Then the thought of you struck me
Is that you causing this?
But I didn't even know you
Just your sweet voice and wise thoughts.

I should be breaking inside now
But knowing that I have someone
Who will willingly listen about my complicated life,
I feel so relieved...

You said that you are my number one fan
When it comes to writing
But just so you know, I'm a fan of yours
For your motivational words.

The way you make things lighter for me
With your crazy jokes
About 'Albert the monkey whom my Uncle adopted'
Who cares if we're the only ones who can relate.

But something's bothering me
As I've never been so vulnerable to anyone
And I don't want to get used to this feeling
'Cause I'm afraid you'll be like the one in what I read once.

It says that through our darkest hours
There comes an angel in disguise who will enlighten us
But as we learned to deal with our pains and get back on our feet again
They will be gone forever...

I know that if I ever take a chance on you and lose you
It will break me as I always did 'cause of loving
But if that means having you in my life even just for a little time
Will be more than enough for me to take the risk.

I am NOT afraid to love now
Instead I'm afraid that I won't get this chance again...

Krystal Marcelo
*09/19/16

Tio Daniel,

I'm really happy that you decided
to join the Navy.
Just finished boot camp and then off to Japan, right?
I tried to go to your graduation
but my dad wanted to go himself
since he wasn't allowed to be there
for most of his little brother's life..

When we met for the third time
in San Diego, we spoke for
a while and I told you about
how I write and
how my mom is really tough on me about grades.
and you just sat back in your chair for a little bit
then looked at your girlfriend
and started telling me of how much I look like my father
but I'm like **** krystal because she always kept
journals when you and her lived in the group home
and that was her outlet
to get away from everything.
And through it all she turned out just fine.
A single teardrop made its way down your cheek
going right over your smile and then
you hugged me
and told me I'll be better despite everything.
Despite our family's past.
Despite what we still go through.
Despite our fear of the uncertain and uncharted waters.
must be why you joined the Navy.

I am a typical girl
An achiever in my own little ways
Not a famous yet not a loser
Not so cool but not a nerd either.

I do what others also do
Like it's some kind of rule to be followed
A girl trying to live a dream
Well---I used to be those things ...

Before a turning point came across my story
Turned my whole world upside down
I fell on darkness but I struggled to come out into the light
But I feel forever stuck in this kind of life.

It's like I'm in a dream
I am running yet I'm not moving
I am screaming
But no one hears me.

So many people trying to drag me down
But I know I'm strong to let myself down
Some people wanted to help me get on my feet
But their kindness seem so humiliating to me.

There's a lot of choices in front of me
And it's driving me crazy
Yet all I need is a headstart
A chapter where I can start a new life...


Krystal Marcelo
06/27/16

*But originally written 06/08/16

An early morning in January
Heart as cold as the monsoon air
Sun rays beaming through the window
Not enough to make the place warm again.

Lying still,
Staring at the ceiling
Overthinking things
Trying to reminisce the beginning.

An acquaintance so sudden
Trust that was easily obtained
A connection that can't be denied
The feeling that lifted me up to heaven.

For years enclosed in a shell
Shell of fear of being hurt
Not wanting this fragile heart
To shatter in pieces you can impossibly count.

As another break up story goes
The more I get afraid to take a chance
Told that I should not be
'cause "Love is beautiful."

Convinced to believe it
Trying to be optimistic about it
But happiness can't stand alone
Without going through pain.

It started with a doubt
A doubt that leads to insecurity
Which can mess up everything
That can ruin a relationship.

It took a while to gain the guts
To seek for the unwanted truth
To unravel answers
For the questions that's lingering in my mind.

It's overwhelming to know
That you have his attention
But the real question,
Are you the only one who has his affection?

And the next thing you'll know
You're burning of insecurity
Drowning in jealousy
It's because of your curiousity.

The pain is excruciating
Tearing everything that's left
Thrusting you deeper in that hole,
Hole of fear, regret and loneliness.

How can he be so dear to you
When he's so fond of anyone else?
Or is it you misconcluding his kindness
Into something more than friendship?

Now there's just two options left
Hold on or let go...


Krystal Marcelo
*01/22/16

On this night
Under the full moon
Illuminating the dark phase of the Earth
Changing the concept of a typical night.

As I stare at the glow-in-the-dark
That I hanged on the empty wall
To make me remember my home
That I always longed.

The smell of coffee in the morning
As you slowly opening your eyes
To see the sunshine through the huge glass windows
And hear the vehicles passing by 'cause we live at the roadside.

With the sight of three gigantic mountains
That surrounds us and seem to protect us
And give us that humid weather
"There's no place like home", indeed.

But leaving home for the quest of finding me
Makes me miss it like it's killing me
But that's how things were supposed to be
In my journey of knowing who I want to be.

Plans were plotted
Actions were taken
But circumstances
Always comes along the way.

With every step that I take
Towards that long-awaited success
The more it gets tough
And far beyond  my reach.

Like my life's a maze
That turning right could be wrong
And turning left could be right
But both could lead to dead end.

Or perhaps I was just led astray
And my senses just deceiving me
'Cause what I'm seeking for
Is right in front of me back to the start.

Krystal Marcelo
*01/28/16

By Ryan P. Kinney
A Jigsaw poem adapted from quotes taken at the 50th Anniversary Hessler Street Fair Poetry Competition Judging; Cleveland, OH 5/11/19

A snake crawls about his bleached skull.
Frosted night pales the moon.
(lets dive into his dreams. Will this dead man tell us his tales of madness and delight?)
Mysterious, smoky eyes look back at me.
The very breath of time
A deep breathe for those unafraid to leave the sun behind
It’s just a matter of time. We all fall down.
Quarterly tides that lift my spirit
The truth changes with the promise that nothing can ever remain the same.

Rhymes out of time
Where I can see the truth in each brush stroke.
What would I do with such knowledge, but to ask for more
There ain’t ever going to be a perfect audience
His book will never be bargain basement; overstock.
I’ll never live that long
Poetry isn’t produce
Almost nobody is looking to buy local.

He is part of the people who chose to be lost
Parents often struggle to teach their children how to choose.
Millennials are the forgotten ones
A generation that has no tolerance for *******
He figured it out long ago
He was a captain without a ship.
Burned the ship to save the crew

His tactics had not matured.
He wailed, “I want to feed my mind beauty.”
“I could eat up the kisses you lay on me each day.”
“Chocolate love can correct a lot of mistakes…”
“I need to eat healthier.”

The music rocks me with desolation
Microphone to inform underground
In the morning, still angry with power
I stop and ponder at what I thought was the immaculate conception.
Unshattered crystal can be torn between love me and love me not.
Anywhere is better than the empty side of your bed.

What is the consensus on nonabusive drunks?
The woman with medicine in her voice, she wanted to heal him
However, He was a dog not easily brought to heel.
The salt of the Earth tastes different than the kind Morton makes.

When standing in your sand I feel glass shards cutting into my feet.
Punctured with track marks from an older compass, lifting rose buds through the empty pores.
A life made from the finest threads of silk; gossamer quickly torn asunder.
I don’t want to die at the hands of someone else’s creation. I create my own life
Will she bet hers or mine?

They call me a murderer, but all I’ve killed is a lie.
Undeterred by my hacking
Cutting never worked.
They cut her open, replaced broken parts
She lived, in fact she thrived
While I will remain my shape.

Burial lands are for the living.
The largest human hole ever dug.
Where she could rust in piece with friends and we could finally let go.
There is holiness there in those subtle, dark places

Be bold she whispered, scribbled on the pages of her soul
Follow your wandering heart.

Each aware of the wings blooming ****** and wet; from the other’s shoulders
Flower crowns are essential.
Bathing in sweet feral rain
Pine sap running through his veins
Dining on nature’s primal fruits
While we lie among the roots

The change that never came
At least as a zombie I don't feel my mind rotting
Imagine ******* out bits of dark matter into an open sewer through the center of the city
Our baptism by fire, need not be theirs.

Original quotes from Ryan P. Kinney, Lori Ann Kusterbeck, Barbara Marie Minney, anitakeys, Lorianne Arwood, Audamatik, Jeremy Jusek, Ralph Pittman, Valentine Ventura,Casey Krysztofik, Kevin F. Smith, Kelly Hambly, Diane Ferri, Michael Ceraolo, Maeve Kroeger, Ariel Alexander Fiore, Hannah Gates, Georgia Reash, Eli Hawkins, Shivla Shikwana, Frank Thomas Rosen, Rob Smith, Tam Polzer, Elizabeth Burnette, Julie Ursem Marchand, Nancy Brady, Christine Donofrio, Cat Russell, Keith Allison, Sara Minges, Joan Perkins, Aubrey Crosbey, Tim Richards, Jill Lange, Ashley Pacholewski, Krystal Evans, John Burroughs, Renee Sanders, Azriel Johnson

Nothing there just the color blue

Seeing deep in my eyes you won't know how to realize I am dead inside hollowed out. I am traded in  glass prism. I look like every thing was hit and beat.
I cant think when fire ran wild turning my tears into shards of glass


My eyes are cold and dead but so is my heart


I lay broken with the pure tears making the world fall apart



I see out my eyes nothing but blood she'd only the sick and twisted of society's games.



My reflection brings all the darkness and plays it out my krystal eyes



Dead or alive you never would know what dark and twisted it to look in my eyes