"storyboard" poems
~
Once upon a time…
There was a Chocolate bar...
Seeking for artistic inspiration…
Had the boldness to mess up my brain...
Designing me a heart infection.
Was it all fiction?
Maybe it was or maybe not…
Like my 1st addition...
The Winter is gone,
Shattered Storyboard.
~
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 5:24 PM UTC
If the area is clear
I will let my mouth speak
The struggle Ive been through
I will make it known to you
Pls, allow me to grab the mic
Just for this time
So that you will not be confuse
In what am I going to say
I will lay down my heart
To avoid pride and selfishness
For this will be my greatest confrontation
Ever in all of my life, Im so nervous
Let me configure the wrong things
The puzzle which running inside me
For a good reason to value
Over this case named life
I wanted to breathe again
Without this barriers that I set in
Long, long time ago in this place
Called the body of Christ
Forgive me, I admit that I made
A lot of mistake, unnoticeable
Imagining things which unpleasant to you
All my yes were all in vain
I know I broke your silence
Your world seems avoiding me
As I saw it, clearly in my both eyes
I sigh, how can I step out from this?
Great is the mess that Im building
It is much taller than skyscrapers
No aroma of blessing can be smell
Instead, burden like a pieces of log
Hope this will be a tool
For us to meet like first time
Forgetting the past faults
And continue living in Agape
May 7, 2010
May 7, 2010 at 1:12 AM UTC
I should probably introduce myself
My name is Anyone Else
It'd be more than obvious to state I'm a mess
Even though I do try my best
Well, maybe not every time
But I toe the line
I'm not sure it's the right one
Can't know that 'till my times done
Attempted some revision to the predestined
Tried to storyboard my own end
Frankly, I couldn't manage
My baggages baggage had to much baggage
Overwhelmed seamlessly flipped to defeated
A weak will finally and now fully depleted
Note beforehand, this is beyond making a statement
My name is actually, probably, most likely, irrelevant
Knowing me will only be watching me come and go
That's best case scenario
©2024
Mar 10, 2024
Mar 10, 2024 at 5:57 PM UTC
A gust of wind
spread them far and wide.
Wading through blades of grass,
crawling through mud on my knees,
feeling for those jagged edges,
I place together, piece after piece.
Some caved to the power of the wind,
crumbled in the face of glory,
a few drowned, or let themselves go,
with the river that ran in fury.
There are many glaring holes
than run so deep,
the picture looks bleak,
but the ragged pieces will fall,
albeit in the end of it all,
I will truly have,
to show the world
a wonderful story.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 1:13 PM UTC
Tell me about your hands.
Every line and callus, every ragged nail
And how they feel, and smell, and taste
The colours, shapes and
Sounds they make
When they touch
When they want to touch, too much
Whether they shake, or they are steady
Paint me a picture
And when I am ready
I'll open my eyes
And welcome your hands
On my storyboard flesh
And your hands can tell you
All about me.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
If I left no censor on the story,
Took the best and left the worst.
You wouldn't stand with open arms,
You'd be at a loss of words.
I'll remember what you preached on what really makes a man,
Make no amends as I admit I feel that this,
Is. The. End.
*Wake up, ******* wake up, this is just the beginning*
How can I parent new beginnings?
When I haven't gotten farther than my own reflection as the storyboard?
Tragic note to self, no longer suicide,
You can never truly live a life worth meaning, if you can't forgive yourself.
I wrote this for someone close to my heart,
A companion, friend, lover, one who tears me apart,
But that gives me life and a reason to live,
Literally,
The future's more important than just some kid.
This isn't about me anymore, my vices, my deeds, or my circumstances.
Because the product of me is coming,
And I don't want my worldly pain to burden a pure heart,
I guess I owe myself second chances.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 2:59 AM UTC
i can't recall at what age i no longer feared death.
perhaps it was the day i saw a dead raccoon in the street,
puking its insides outward, like it ate something regrettable.
or maybe it was the day a suicide attempt brought a body to our shore
and though i was told to look away, i could not.
regardless of what brought me to this state, here i remain,
dismantling razors to get to their blades.
my skin has always been dry, like canvas,
so it only makes sense to use it as such,
a storyboard of misery and anguish covered my thighs
because anything was better than feeling numb.
i sometimes fantasize about what it must feel like to die
is it similar to the feeling of a sunshower on your skin,
or perhaps the wind dancing through your hair?
i've been dying to find out.
i'm aware that death is a fad these days
whether overdose or accident, slates are wiped clean
past mistakes erased.
if the promise of a swift and painless demise could be universal,
i'm sure more would feel the same as i.
what's scary is the pain, the unimaginable pain
that accompanies swallowing a fistful of pills or a swig of bleach
it's agony.
i've found myself closer and closer to reaching this point,
this point where i've no reason to be, and god,
it's so hard to backtrack.
in the same way that it's difficult to breathe easy,
the nearly impossible is found when i try not to mourn
what i haven't yet lost.
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC