To the InferiorTo the inferior,I know how you feel. The thought of being "less." The notion that you have little to gain. The idea that you don't quite meet the world's standards. It's like you're stuck. Forever dreaming for something better. Forever wishing upon a star. At night, you sit up and wonder when the pieces of your puzzle-like life will fall into place. But isn't that just so cliche? All we do is wait...then wait some more. Yet, we're not far from the mountaintop. Someday, it will be our turn. Someday, we will see our long-awaited desires floating before our eyes, like satellites. And those who've never left cloud nine will finally understand. It just takes a bit of time, and a smidge of faith. Though it's easy to become vulnerable. Remember, even the "lowest of the low" have found their way. Some have even taken on the role as king or queen. And just know, that I am for you. Totally and completely for you. You never have to question your significance again.Sincerely,Everlasting Hope
Obsolete BeachThe lighthouse is catching fire tonight;the infrastructure is caving in.For several bottles of keroseneremain exposed, unattended.And the matches, ten years old,rub against the cardboard lid.Sorcery, or so it seems,taking course of foul revenge.Then fear falls fast on tired hearts;the angels have refused their part.So goes our love, our brick-built home,our oil, and our lamp.Still, we once felt angst before,the monsters piling on the shore.We'll reconstruct our secret placein the ocean's crib.
Tribute to the KingI had once dreamed of being queen. But not the one you might expect. Not the one to turn her back, so ignorant to flee. For you have seen their solemn eyes - the hunger beckoning demise. Still, you raise the cathedral spires, callous to their pleas. Then death takes hold of sweltering skin; guilt takes form of russet hands. Your ego, status as a man, is but an ancient thing. And purple banners start to fall, for the king who thought he had it all. Erect the tables for the feast! We're not disheartened - not in the least.Not in the very least.
Natural RestorationCucumbers like iceconcealing somber eyes.Pigment of chlorophyll -fluorescent green, divine.Capturing the light,conquering the night.Act of photosynthesis,soothing, sublime.
Spatial SerenityBathing in streams of coconut milk,I embrace my inner sense of youth -how calm, how mellow-minded,distinct of the Earth's mantle.A moment spent upon the moon.
Bobby PinConsider a bobby pin.How easy one could snap.Yet it tussles with gravity -leaves an atmospheric gap'tween your hair and your faceand your dimples like stars.I would be a bobby pin,just to unveil who you are.
MarigoldsYou call yourself a man,yet shamelessly crushmy pile of marigoldsbeneath your feet -your old rubber solesgrinding the petalslike mortar and pestle.Those apricot leaves.But you never knew lovein the form of a flower;how vibrant, how gallantlike the sun it could be.And you never knew thatthe true secret to manhoodis boldness with a touchof sensitivity.
PrisonerI hold the gauze against my lips,embrace the snow white fibers of its being -embrace the cotton candy-like tressesready to catch each speck of bloodthat will fall from my stitched mouth.Tonight, I'll break my vow of silence -my long-contained ghostly manner,no matter how much my mouth bleeds.For words weren't meant to be confinedbehind slithers of rusted wire;phrases weren't meant to run drybehind tired, parched tongues.Tonight, the clock will cease to tick,the rosebuds - cease to bloom.And my voice - cease to be mutedbehind the once ivory bandage.
Regarding BrowniesThere's a differencebetween gooey and chewy.
Our WorldTonight we shall awakeAnd we'll feel better;While scars dictate out a eulogyBefore icicle stars drip a lakeOf blood and ink.And our life is scribedAnd our destiny transcribedUpon ozone highways ofA time swept letter.Tonight we shall smileAnd we'll be fine;While bones taunt us in penuryOut of sync to heart's design:Never will we blink.And our strife is mystifiedAnd our history pacifiedTowards x-ray epitaphs onA lunar forged shrine.Tonight we shall glowAnd we'll fly high;As souls sing forth in melodyTo harp string's of an angel's sigh,But joy fades in a wink.And we're aliveThere's nothing we can't surviveAnd we're a mysteryTo bandaged eyes living misery.So let's set things right!Let's burn out tonight!Set the world alightWith the unity of our cries,Never to let the flames burn lowNor to allow our nightmaresPermission to fester and grow.So let's set things right!Tonight we shall awakeAnd even if it kills us;The world. Our world.Will be alright.
Blink.there's a futureI don't wantto plan,apast I don'twant to let go,and a present fullof love,of distance intimacyI hold closest,and peoplewho knowmy storybecause it runsso deeply with their own.and in the balanceof all of thisis where my story sitsblinking cursor-
Send HelpI'm stuck in the middleOf this never endingBody of waterExpecting someoneTo throw me a life jacketBut all they're doingIs throwing me anchors
Bad dayThese daysWhen everything goes wrongAnd you just wishYou could have stayed in bed
Lion HeartI am a girl of the sunand lion blood pumpsthrough my veins.
AwakeInsomnia rends the night skywith dreamsof daybreak
Writer's Block Is...When a writer is feeling blocked.Yeah, that's all I got. :/Hence the term, "writer's block."