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Unnecessary RoundsIn the fall I'd make unnecessary rounds
over that scuffed, speckled tile
in case you were namelessly there-
an anonymous book browser,
a stranger buying milk.

I saw all these walks of life, at noon
or at eight o'clock or nine.
The protruding stomach pregnant
with hamburger-death, stretching
at the filthy shirt with a belly button eye
(Cyclops, do you still blame Nobody?)
and the young man's thin white leg with the
long tendon swimming a delicate breast stroke
under smooth cream-skin, under the fluorescents
hairless and illuminated.

Even lonely people need groceries,
need some fuel for their night ramblings
and nail biting,
Dead.She can no longer see
Her eyes as white as milk
Broken hinges
On doors to an abyss of nothingness

She can no longer hear
Ears cleaned out with super glue
Trapped in a lost world
Of piercing silence

She can no longer smell
The devil holds her nose
And burns the vibrant flowers
In the lush meadow

She can no longer speak
Lips sewn shut with barbed wire
Only muffled screams
Of the poisonous infection

She can no longer feel
Skin sanded down to the bone
And suffocated in cellophane
Hinders every breath

She is no longer alive
No longer thinks
No longer dreams
She sleeps with the devil
TearsShe was the girl with eyes of burnt amber. But her eyes weren't always that way. It came from hiding a truth so harsh that her beautiful eyes had turned dark. She swore she could never fall in love.

He was the boy with a face shaped like a broken heart. But his face wasn't always that way either. It came from caring so much about someone that his heart was scratched in cruel, manicured fingers, mangled beyond belief. He swore he would never love again.

They met in a spinal corridor. Then in a courtyard. Then in a room which had a broken window. And finally in a doorway that was too small. And she was crying.

Diamond tears from burnt amber
HypnosWinter poppies hang lowly
as they nod themselves into a gentle, dreamless sleep.
Their scarlet-skirted heads bob against the coming wind and detach
from their brittle necks to sail westward.
A strange nectar seeps from under the fire-bright petals,
impregnating rivers with its perfumes and
swelling the stomachs of rainclouds
until they blot out the sun.

Beneath your eyelids,
stars shiver weakly
in the shadow of their thin blue light.
The pale and sickly flower of amnesia
blooms nightly on these mud-blackened riverbanks,
stirring the brittle silhouettes
from where they are pinned against nightfall.

The water here is thick and s
safe-house songyou tie your words together
        like loose thread, leaving
  nothing left to trip over: no trail to follow.

         your voice is shallow, heartbeat
    steady as the cadence of the second-hand.
           Away from the window,
                admission flows forth like mercury.

        yes, i held my breath. yes.
                i can still smell the earth;
            can still imagine the

vignetted
        insouciance of spring
            bursting into sepia life
       like the birth of toads.
[some things are not so soon forgotten.]

       i want you to know, sunflower
            intimate with the ba
Never AgainThe rain boy had sworn that he would never again smile. His eyes always soaked the oceans with tears from his past and his heart was always dark and locked to anyone who could try and help him. His world had become so bleak and dark, that he stood in rooms of people that were a blur past him and a guitar that just no longer played.

So when the sunshine girl met the rain boy, for a second, the world stood still.  In that tiny little balcony, where there was only space for two, the sunshine girl asked the rain boy, "When was the last time you smiled?"

The rain boy was startled for a second at someone talking to him, but he answered anyway, "I
perfect strangersI wanted to paint a picture of
two small children
playing in one of the
antique shops on King Street.

A warm spring day, a mother
out with her son and
they would walk into the little girl's
grandfather's store.

They would play hide and seek mongst
the mirrors and she would show him
all her favorite places.

He'd never leave because
there's no such thing as
after
in a painting.

I wanted to paint a picture
on King Street, on a
warm spring day but
I got to talking

with a cocoa skinned gentlemen
who invited me into the
Starbucks in the Hilton
for chai.

We walked until
the shops closed and sat
by the Torpedo Factory
near t
poem 2They met on playground swings.
The sun was setting and they made eye contact three times.
The swing he was on slowed and settled with her back turned as she walked away.
No words were spoken.

It was nine o'clock the next evening.
Every time he glanced up she was staring at him from the opposite side of the playground.
He was self-conscience and stared at his shoes.
Between his feet, he could see her. She kicked higher than he did. She caught birds between her toes.
Her lips moved. She could have been singing.
She left again. He stared. She didn't look back.

The streetlights were on the next evening.
He was waiting for her.
She did
The BirdsBreathe in and think of love
Breathe out and think of pain
Listen to the feeling in your heart
Not the voices in your brain

Hark the wind blowing through the trees
Ignore the dirge of modern life
Use your ears to hear the birds
and with them let your worries take flight

Glide upon the pockets of wind
Wherever the breeze shall take you
Make the journey beautiful
Rather than the place you wish to get to

Breathe in and think of the future
Breathe out and forget the past
I know the pain seems never ending
But such dismal days will not last

Hear my whispered words softly
Stirring emotions in your heart
I will offer my hand, my lo
Your NothingToo fool to understand you,
Too weak to resist you,
Too slow to catch you,
Too far to touch you.

Sometimes I feel my words are not enough.
Sometimes I think you even forgot my name.
Sometimes I'm not sure if you know I exist.
Sometimes I cry for you without tears.

Cause' each word is for you,
each word falls down from my eyes,
from my soul,from my heart
and just wanna express how empty is my life, my time,
my love, my hands, my lips.

I can't find the way you see me as I see you.
I can't find the way you think of me
spending every moment of the f...ng night
just imagining your eyes saying you need me
as I need you.

My pillow
i will teach you how to mourn.my mouth has never
shaped
        itself
to swallow the brittle edges
of a prayer,

never felt its walls rubbed raw
by cold stones that swell with grief
and rattle

against my teeth like
some foreign bird. but victor,

i would learn the tongues of
a thousand gods
if it would make me believe

that you are a little
happier in death.
Dear VictorI will not apologize because I knew you
when your own ghosts turned their backs to your weeping
or because I thought I could love the bird-shaped organ
calling from inside your chest
or because
I clipped its stubborn wings
when I realized I had been wrong.
I am not sorry for it.

But listen, Victor:

I'm sorry I remember a time
when we were beautiful, our bodies
made luminous by the bitter light collected in our lungs
like ash,
the atmosphere shaking violently as it
sank
into our displaced skeletons.
We could not recall
our own skin.

I'm sorry I called out for you
in the dark
when no one else was there to hear,
each shaken syllable making a
In Case You're BoredIn Case You're Bored:

For those who are bored with seeing teenage relationships on the FP. Here is a bonus, Disturbed-style, Chen piece to entertain you all.

What Lives Inside of Me:

Locked away inside
Dreaming of evil rising up in me
Let me play with your-
I will break through the walls of sanity
Leave me pure inside
Take away all of my humanity
Will I kneel before-
The corpses stained by the need for your sanctity?

Will you be mine? Or will I break you again-
The beast is swelling up inside of me
A temptuous lie, from the moment that you denied
The demon that you knew you grew to be

The swirling mist of a blood red fog...
De
When God Sleeps.I. So it comes to this: pangea tearing itself raw
from our throats to pour into squares of newly open sky
where the stars grew aches and darkened lakewater
once bloomed into bruised winters. Somewhere
beyond the thick of snow, prayers are strung
on moon-rattled winds
and birds' teeth tear apart the poetry
of our hands. They will raise something beautiful
from these ruined words.

Continents shift slowly. They are
dirt-bound titans, these beasts;
rootless giants that mold themselves
to fit the vision we hold inside our heads. Oceans sigh
and their tides crawl ever upward.

II. Our shadows become umbilical
in certain light. Unknown children cas
Judgement"You need to stop doing this."

"Stop doing what?"

"Writing me into your stories."

"...why?"

"Because…it scares me. I'm not this guy that you write about. I'm not some kind of Prince Charming and I'm certainly not a sea God or whatever you like to say about my eyes every now and then."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. You really need to work on your judgement of people, because this is all wrong. It's like you don't know me at all!"

"So why don't you correct me and I'll fix my idea of you accordingly."

"Well…firstly, I'm a really nervous person."

"Yeah. Your hands are either fiddling with your hair or your sleeve, or you're biting y
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October 15, 2011
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Streetside

:icondragonsdwelling:

it trembles, a
crooked form caught
in a black sea,
its surface
stagnant now – the
still waters rumble
with the passing of cars and
unmoving eyes, casting deep
shadows over its
small
broken body

alone and
weary

it croaks, a feathery wing outstretched,
reaching
a mouth, wide open

unable to utter a single
cry
:icondragonsdwelling:

First time writing poetry in a little over a year.
It's been awhile.


I plan to make this visual later on, but yah.

EDIT: So apparently this hit front page, on Popular - 8 hours. (I was wondering where all these favs were coming from, haha.) Thank you for the support, guys~

Also, sorry for making this rather depressing, haha..

EDIT 2: Front page 24 hours? Holy. @_@
EDIT 3: Front page 3 days;aldkfjksdlf.
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:iconoragamithoughts:
~OragamiThoughts Feb 15, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Love the imagery
Reply
:iconpuzzledpixel:
~puzzledpixel Oct 1, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
i love the image and the imagery. we salute yoo.
Reply
:iconnokhsa:
!Nokhsa May 15, 2012
This is an incredible idea; I would have loved to write about this! (don't worry, though, i won't knowing you have)

You've executed it very nicely, on top of that. Extremely powerful and quiet. Very nice. Better than most any of the other stuff I've read here, and I've read a lot of new works and popular works.
Reply
:icondragonsdwelling:
~DragonsDwelling May 15, 2012
Hehe, well, you could always approach the same theme another way. x)
But anyway, thank you!
Reply
:iconnokhsa:
!Nokhsa May 15, 2012
I also wanted to add how I love that this could definitely take place in reality, including all the details.
Reply
:iconrandomise42:
~randomise42 Nov 30, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Beautiful!!! :hug: Thats amazing and so tragic, you've written it so well :heart:
Reply
:icondragonsdwelling:
~DragonsDwelling Dec 1, 2011
Thank you. (:
Reply
:iconxxsilverechoxx:
~xxSilverEchoxx Nov 26, 2011  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Is the picture yours? Either way, can you send me a link to it if you have one, please? :) And love the poem, by the way.
Reply
:icondragonsdwelling:
~DragonsDwelling Nov 27, 2011
Actually, yes. A doodle, but mine all the same, haha.
I don't really have a link to it apart from the one here though... may I ask what you need it for? I'm just curious. xD

And thank you~
Reply
:iconxxsilverechoxx:
~xxSilverEchoxx Nov 28, 2011  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
I actually wanted to use it as a desktop wallpaper, if it would be okay with you. It's very pretty. :)

And you're very welcome!
Reply
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