Gemini

I know something is wrong, because something isn’t right.
-

I’ve used the quote above in one of my old poems and it was something I believed in, if I felt something wasn’t right then I automatically believed that there was a mistake or something was wrong. I’ve come to realize that it may just be "change".
And change can either be good or bad, depending on your definition of bad and good that is.

For awhile I believed I was constantly lying about things, but now I know it’s not that.
It’s just that my opinions and views on things are changing constantly, and much faster than everyone else I think. So I’m starting to forget who I am and I don’t like it, and the most annoying part is I can’t exactly figure out why I don’t like it. 

I don’t really care that I may be changing because I  guess I’m always changing, but I've only come to realize it now. Maybe because I feel like I know other people more than myself or the fact that I can’t be true to things, my opinions and views.
I really don’t know.
I understand and see things differently every day.
Maybe I’m just starting to know myself better.
So far I know that I’m the most complicated person that I know.
And that maybe things aren't as simple as I thought they were.

Go blog yourselves.

My beautiful haunting's (poem)

Wow.
Now this one, this poem, is really fucked up (that's what I think)
I wrote this one seven years ago.
I'm only putting it up here because I like it and It feels so raw to me.
The way I used to be able to express things or visualize things was very sharp compared to now.
So it's mainly here as a reminder to me how I can be much more imaginative.
I've once again made small editing here and there just to fix some grammatical errors and such.
But it is how it is (the poem that is)
And here it is, the poem my beautiful haunting's.
-

Let me capture this night with my net of stolen dreams
Should I drown in this sorrow?
Or sink into this hate?
My feelings are too dead to understand
Too empty to feel
Nothingness unravels this mystery
Understanding nothing filled with something impossible
No explanation for this emotion
I shudder in the heat
No cold in the air but it stings me
All my pain is swept away
All my sadness has gone away
All my tears have dried away
A feeling I hate but love
I wish for the stabs of depression to kill me
So beautiful
So silent
The noise has collapsed
But the sounds call to me
My love for this will not make it last
But it's visits will come to haunt me
Haunt me with it's warm hugs
Disturb me into escaping
Escaping into me

-

"let me capture the night with my net of stolen dreams" and what follows after it....
Means that I've tried everything and everything is shit, should I be angry or sad about it?
There's nothing.

Anyway...

In this poem I believe at the time I wrote it I was trying to imagine the worst kind of depression.
Kind of like when something hurts so much that it completely breaks everything , and you don't feel anymore.
Boom, that feeling of shock when it hits you.
When you want the ground to just swallow you.
When you want to die, when you're ready to accept death.
That feeling.
And why is it beautiful?
Because you have never felt anything like that in your entire life and when it hits you, it's so... True.
The sudden realization, that we're alive and that it'll disturb us into killing ourselves.
Escape from reality, escape from myself, escape into me.
Basically, suicide.


By the way, I closed the window by accident at first and this page closed, but it was saved as a draft, and then my web browser crashed but it was still saved as a draft.
It made me think of whether I should post this or not.
I obviously went with it anyway, so you all can go blog yourselves.

Winter (poem)

I decided to just post all my previous poems which I liked.
Stars was an old one so might as well continue.
This one was called "of her" but I changed it to "Winter"
It definitely sounds better than "of her", I wanted the title at first to be indirect but since I made "stars" as it is,  might as well keep it as winter.
I've edited it slightly as well.

Winter.
-

She comes to me in a soothing chill

Her cold and cruel kisses,
Quivering
Her frozen and harsh caress,
Shivering

But she is pure and white as snow
Even though her smile is of frost
She dresses herself with ice
And in her beautiful blizzard I'm lost

I'll always cherish her deadly affection

Stay with me forever,
My lovely winter


-
I think I'm starting to see what style I'd like to try next time.
Something all over the place but makes sense.
Go blog yourselves.

P.S
I hate the cold.

Stars (poem)

I've done this poem awhile back but I wasn't fully satisfied with it.
So I only changed one or two things here.
Everything will always have a thing or two missing for me, it's a little frustrating not to reached perfection or something that I don't think is missing something.
Here's the poem.


Stars.
-


When time weaves away the sun
Extinguishing the daylight
Day becomes undone
Desolation comes tonight


An obstinate gloom 
Siphoning the brightness
Like a monster it'll loom
Enveloping the sky with darkness


But the stellar spell will marvel 
The fleeting evil will meet its doom
A promising luminosity will tranquil
Overthrowing the shadows rule


As if the night's eyes
Gracefully swimming in the celestial sea
Fragments of light kissing the skies
They're always watching me


-
It's missing emotion.
Go blog yourselves.

Experience

Everyone is the same.
It's only what we've experienced in life which will make us deal with things differently, whether it's logical or emotional, and because of our personal experiences we also see things differently.
Because of our nature to survive we use what we've learnt in our experiences.
The way we react emotionally to me almost seems like a survival instinct.
Getting angry or aggressive so that something doesn't happen again, because real expression does speak louder than words. You can tell someone that you don't like something but it won't be as effective as you screaming about it or displaying your dislike towards it.

Which shows that humans are truly simple creatures but tend to think things are complicated, but in the end it's always "your action is what caused my reaction" as simple as that.

Anger, sadness, hate, etc.
Displaying those are enough to show that you did something wrong.
So we just fail to understand the simplicity of things, or we forget.

We only move things to put them back in the right place again... Or at least we think we do.
Our reactions are based on our experiences.
And because of that, we are flawed, we don't know what is right or wrong.
I think knowing our limitations is what makes us smart, but surpassing them is what makes us great.
But then again...
What is greatness?

"What need for the shepherd when all the wolves have gone?" - Castlevania

Is greatness a purpose?
Or is it fulfilling that purpose?
Or maybe it's the best experience?
But then again... What is the best experience?

So really... What do we know?
Go blog yourselves.

Trusting you (poem)

This was an interesting inspiration.
I enjoyed writing this one because it defies logic.
I mean, I'm not quite sure how to say this but this poem is about human behavior, defying their own logical reasoning due to (lets say) urges.
Love in this context can mean urges.
And to me love meant many things at many different times (I'm also guessing the same with everyone else)
Love at one point meant trust to me (as I tried to portray in my previous poem "believe") and I also thought it was security and also sacrifice.
But all of those were proved wrong... So it then meant "mutal feelings"
That was the best way for me to describe love.
But!
Just now, right now, after completing and editing this poem.
Love to me now is anything and everything it can be.
Whether it is sacrifice, trust, urges, etc whatever you think it is.
I now believe that love comes in many forms.

Interesting how the opposite of love (hate) can only come in one form.
Hate is true. Hate is true to itself.
Which is why I'm more interested in the darker side of things, they're so raw and powerful.
Every negative feeling wields such a strong grip.
Whereas love and happiness can so easily be swayed.
But I digress... So...
Here is the poem...
"Trusting you"
-

Honestly, I love to hear your sweet little lies
False love and forced kisses won’t ever die

So let this lie happen
The truth is overrated

Frankly, knowing this deceit is relieving
Fake love comes with no price of grieving

So die with me, my dear
I’ll never wait for your love

-
I liked it short and sweet, straight to the point.
I had fun with the play on words I did to try to express the feeling more.
I hope it's a fun read as it was fun for me to write so in the meantime...
Go blog yourselves.

Death poem (poem)

Like a rotten log
half buried in the ground -
my life, which has
not flowered, comes
to this sad end.

-

Minamoto Yorimasa
-

When monks knew their time was coming to an end or when the samurai would be going into a battle they think might be their last, they would write a death poem.

I've always been fascinated by things like this and I do want to write one of my own someday.

This poem is called "death poem" and it's not my death poem but of let's say... Dying with regret kind of thing.

Truthfully I'm not sure how to explain it at the moment, it's usually like that with my poems, I always understand them after a long time.

Here it is, Death poem.

-

Dreamless sleep
And sleepless dreams
How does the cluster of nightmares creep?

To hope beside my death bed

A song for the dead
And prayer for the living
How long has it been since I’ve last bled?

This wish is smeared in scarlet

Remembered to forget

Lost to be found

How far have I walked down this regret?

Only to be discovered by my demise

Empty goodbyes

Waving farewell

As I exhale my last dying sighs

-

The only thing I can say is that I tried a different rhyming approach.

I could have made it rhyme more but it would be too melodic and that would make it sound a little happy when it's supposed to be sad.

I've written for years but there's still so much to learn when it comes to emotions and writing.

It's tough.

Go blog yourselves.