POETRY

Poems which I have written myself. Some may seem very obscure – it’s poetry. I consider poetry to be one of the highest and most artistic forms of writing.

Pillow Person

Caught in an ocean of bed sheets
she holds tightly onto the buoy of her pillow
so that she will not drown in her nightmares.
She clutches onto the fabric
and it gives her a degree of desired comfort.
She wraps her amiable arms around
the cool comforting fabric as she closes her eyes.
A single salty tear drop is absorbed
into the thirsty fluff and disappears,
leaving behind a slight stain – familiar.
The currents of her sleep carry her to
another place where everything is warped together.
She slowly releases the pillow protection
and drifts restlessly into various positions
as the waves tumble her about.

She is thrown onto the coarse sand
of reality and feels like a discarded shell.
As she lifts herself from her slumbered state,
she enters into the real tsunami thought:
the future.

She floats into bed this time:
She feels the presence of another
and smiles softly as he holds her close.
She feels his warmth against her body
as she slowly slips into sleep.
Her dreams are inadequate because
now her reality is her dream.
She sleeps soundlessly and peacefully
as the ocean calmly carries her body
to the island of her happiness.

Cartoonist

A soft crescent moonlit evening
lights the garden and exposes
the weeds that should have been removed.
He slips carefully into the hammock between
the two trees and sips his drink
as he stares at the mocking moon.

He cries, as he always does, and longs
for his lost love.
All he wanted was the look
she gave his best friend the day
they ran off together.
Instead he got a note on his car window
(it was in the red lipstick he bought her):
SORRY NOT SORRY
His heart wasn’t broken for that implies
the heart must have been intact.
He simply hoped his suspicions were false.

The night-wind flows through his hair
and he puts down the glass, takes a pen
and scribbles his nightly pain in
the form of a cartoon.
Tonight:
A giant half-heart and a bloodied knife,
a simple caricature of his feelings.
He signs his forgotten name below
and goes inside his
empty house.

Enigma Girl

We all see her walk into the room –
her head held high and her smile
as radiant as the sun.
She swirls around the room
like a sweet addictive scent
and everyone is drawn to her,
birds to nectar.
We feed off her radiance and get
high off her fumes of fun
and swoon all the way to
the land of fantasy and
please-be-with-me.
She’s worse than cocaine
and sweeter than sugared honey drops.
She holds her own and makes even
the biggest of us feel
minute.

But when it comes to love
she seems to be careful who
to let into her world…
Because she has been hurt
by the one before
(who was the first).
She’s an enigma gypsy
running away from the feelings
that unlock the doors of that pain
and she refuses to be vulnerable again.

She frustrates all of us because
we cannot get into her life as
deeply as we all want to.
And it seems like she wants us
to come to that place but then
she slams the door in our faces
and we stand with broken noses,
shattered hearts but somewhere
I realise it’s not her fault.

And so they keep running after her
and she doesn’t understand why…
She breaks her mirror in fury and
cries a river of confusion to wash
away her insecurity which always
return in showers.

She is blessed, however, and she knows,
she knows that she is special in some way.
One day she will receive the package
she ordered in her dreams and she’ll be

free of her chains!

Indecision

“I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
– The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

To choose one of two great loves:
A happy forever after scattered
with the occasional rough patch.
But never both.

FIRST:
Love.
Happiness in the arms
of someone beautiful
in and out.
A love to wrap around myself
like a fleece blanket in a snowy tundra.
Security knowing that even if I had
nothing
I would have someone
who would make it everything.

SECOND:
Art.
A steady career filled with limitless opportunities
that would let me see the world.
And a guaranteed growth of character
experiencing the genius of countless creators
scattered across the globe
like cloudlets of passion.

CHOICE:
I cannot have both;
I must decide.
Success will only come
in the hands of sacrifice.

CONFUSION:
Loving both with my soul
but knowing my soul is single-chambered
and has a hollow for only one.
The swirling in my mind confuses
and disorientates.
Speared thoughts from every second
person saying what I should do.

HURT:
Knowing I will have to turn
away
from one for the other.
And longing for that which
I
did
not
choose.

DECSION?
Indecisive.

hurt You

please don’t feel me
don’t feel for me
feel for another
me no

You mustn’t be another x
i don’t want You in pain
pain at my numb hands
and heart

please just walk away
i know how you feel because
i feel the same but please
i dont want to hurt You
time will make the feelings go away
but time will never heal
the scars i’d give Your heart

please run away as fast
as You can
if You see me near
turn away
close Your heart to me
just me don’t let me in

i’m broken
if You step in my life
You’ll step on my broken pieces
and they’ll cut You open
and You’ll bleed out in pain

I try turn away,
say I understand.
“I’ll heal you!
I’ll make you whole again!”
But no…
I must turn away from
this lovestructive force,
but just know I’ll always see
you in the face of those I love.

Because you were my first.

Glamour Gourmet Gorgeous

I’m so full from my gourmet Michelin meal.
I’m empty, so empty – it’s how I feel.

I just Instagrammed my new diamond ring.
I feel like common stone commoners merely fling.

These Louis Vuitton shoes fit me so.
I’m incapable of filling shoes: I can’t grow…

Envy the zeros on my bank statement.
My esteem is a zero balance, lower than a basement.

The cost of my Aston could feed starving children in Ethiopia.
At least they are grateful unlike in my Utopia.

The 3 storey mansion has all I could desire,
But this life has extinguished my passion, my fire.

Check out this 5 star luxury resort,
I feel so poor like a forgotten, withering fort.

Stare at my super model boyfriend…
I’ve never felt real love. The end.

My face is modelled against perfection:
This facade hides a cracked complexion.

People are jealous of my picture perfection;
But to me life is my solitary, harsh detention.

There

We build each other up to
help each other when we fall.

Always there for each other
like a shadow to a tree.
Mutual respect and honesty
that radiates from the deepest
and most meaningful place:
Unexplained.
So powerful.
Both at the top of the world,
yet both wanting the
other to touch stars.
Standing united rather than
apart.

We build each other up to
help each other when we fall.

People will try pull us
down
down
down
to get themselves up,
but we want to help them up
the Truthful way.
Friends will become strangers and
acquaintance friends;
that’s the cycle:
cyclically natural.

We build each other up to
help each other when we fall.

Any position of the extreme
(highness or lowness)
will always be subject to the
scrutiny of common man!
Common man merely watches
and speculates at the validity,
but who needs the validity
of the exterior when you
have heart of Truth.

We build each other up to
make each other great.

The Unrequited Struggle

In every room there stands a different couple:
They show affection and their love seems to double.
We won’t ever feel that, my friend, we won’t ever feel that.

Society screams in my ear saying,
“You’re such a failure so stop playing”:
But we were always excluded, my friend, we were always excluded.

Arrived at a party, someone beautiful offered me a drink;
Told me I was nice, like a brother, made them think.
This is where we belong, my friend, this is where we belong.

Went out on a Friday night to a popular bar,
Everyone was in the arms of another star.
I felt the loneliness, my friend, I felt the loneliness.

Saw a married couple walking down the street;
Their love was as strong and unbreakable as a fleet.
Oh if we could only imagine, my friend, if we could only imagine.

Thought I heard someone call my name softly in the dark –
Turns out that it was just the beating of my lonely heart’s stark
My soul is eternally alone, my friend, my soul is eternally alone.

Dreamed that I saw my hand intertwined with someone new,
It seemed so real, something so rare, so few.
I awoke to my nightmare, my friend, I awoke to my nightmare.

Had a vision of my final hour of life;
It seemed I had with a love conquered all strife.
I am just delusional, my friend, I am just delusion.

Fall!

Take your screeching strings
and make the music you like.
Let the masses dance to noise,
let the people believe.

Take your criticism and write it across the sky.
Let the world know your opinion
is the fact.
Let them know!

Take your eyes and your assumptions
and sew them into the fabric of the world.
Preach the truth-lies and broken lives
and let that sell your soul.

While you’re at the butcher slicing my life,
make sure to buy yourself some tough meat
because you’ll need to be toughened up
when the demons get to lick your skin.

During the plotting of my downfall
make sure to charge your video cameras
and have back up batteries, because you know what?
My fall is far.

Catch me from the right angle
and direct my fall into your hands.
Immortalise my failure;
let me feel your strangle.

Write my downfall!
Record my blood!
Snap-shot my failure!
Headline my stumble!

Take my life, I give it to you.
But know this, for it is true:

You will never touch my soul.

A Wish For Humanity

I don’t want to be black;
I don’t want to be white:
I want to be human.
I don’t want to be privileged;
I don’t want to be unfortunate:
I want to belong anywhere.
I don’t want to be Christian;
I don’t want to be Buddhist:
I want to be spiritual.
I don’t want to be a blue;
I don’t want to be a pink:
I want to be equal.
I don’t want to be smart;
I don’t want to be creative:
I want to be valued.
I don’t want gay rights;
I don’t want women’s rights:
I want human rights.
I don’t want money;
I don’t want fame:
I want happiness.
I don’t want to be tall;
I don’t want to be thin:
I want to be imperfectly perfect.
I don’t want to be labelled;
I don’t want to be in a box:
I want to be free.
I don’t want to be you;
I don’t want to be them:
I want to be me.

We don’t want to want:
We need to be wanted.