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.

Allure (poem)

Been awhile.
Decided to try something different.
I think it turned out well.
The poem...

Allure.
-

The unguided whim
Is enough to flatter the devil
I’ll make it flutter with sin
Escalate it slowly by level

An Intoxicated desire
Followed by an insatiable lust
You’ll be compelled to admire

Addicted in that hour
Trying to overcome the drunkenness
The high raining like a shower
A pleasurable consciousness

Decorating you with ecstasy
With only this whisper of a kiss
Fulfilling more than every fantasy

-

I'll try to post more often.

Go blog yourselves in the meantime.

Deeds

“The only survivors in the battlefield are the strong and the cowardly, the brave all die.” – one piece

-

This is something to make me feel a little better (the quote that is) though it isn't, not today.

I saw something today in which I could have helped out a little in (even though there was no point in trying) but I still feel bad about it, everyone and everything is still fighting and deserves even that 0.1% chance.

It sucks that you only have one chance to change things sometimes.

To me the greatest of all deeds are the ones that you don't take credit for and don't do to make yourself feel good or get something out of it.

Those are the ones that really matter.

"The smallest of deeds is better than the grandest intention"

It really sucks that we have groundless motivation to do such things (including myself of course)

I've always wondered what the point of doing some things were, everyone does things for a purpose.

So we overlook certain things and let them be when we know we shouldn't or think we're incapable of assisting.

And we forget the most important thing in life.

God.

I'm not preaching here because that would make me a hypocrite.

We forget what we do should be in Gods name, and that is why these little things do matter and hopefully will be pushing me and you to be doing a little more good and making things easier for everyone and everything.

Go blog yourselves.

Equilibrium & Colors (poems)

I put both of these poems in one post because I couldn't make them as deep as I hoped.
I haven't written in awhile as well so I'll just keep it as it is, they're finished but I see them as incomplete, I might make a complimentary on them both if I can, that's what I want.
Whenever I can.

Equilibrium.
-

Because the less we are
The less we want
The less we know
The less we do
Then… The less we hurt

But the more we are
The more we want
The more we know
The more we do
Then… The more we love

-

Colors.

-

Oblivious to the light
When comes night
We’re all but shadows

Who dares shed light in your world?

The color hasn’t faded
You forget your eyes are closed
Vision is what mystifies everything

So open your eyes

Habit prevents progress
Poison your distress
Fearing commitment because you’ve never owned

Don’t wait to get left behind

-

Equilibrium the poem, is self explanatory, too much or too little of anything is bad.
As for colors the poem...

It's about changing yourself for the better and accepting things and that sometimes you just need to let go and not blindly follow or believe or do things.

Sometimes after reading the poems I've made I get to extract and understand the meaning of it and how I managed to play with some of the words and also why.

It's weird because sometimes I don't usually write them when I'm thinking.

So I never actually see these messages I've put behind them, so yeah.

I don't know.

Go blog yourselves I guess.

Nothingness

The path of nothingness leads to nothingness.
There's only nothingness at the end.
I've been there.
-
Everywhere to hide, nowhere to open up.
-


Black is truly an amazing color.
It negates all colors except one, white.
White absorbs everything, you can paint it whatever color you want, blue, red, yellow, you name it and even turn it right back into white again.
Though with the color black, you can't paint anything over it, it'll remain as it is, you just need some white to clear it out.
Just like good and evil.
It's sad.

This post is dedicated to anyone feeling emptiness, even if it's just a little.
Though someone like me can't help you, hopefully I can just make you feel a little bit better.
I can't help because even those who have cleared it, are still busy holding on, and those who are searching for it are still busy fighting it, so you'll definitely cross paths with one of them and fill your cups together.


Peace.
No one is forgotten.
And go blog yourselves.

Patterns (poem)

This poem, can mean many things to people, different perspectives.
So I'll leave the meaning of this poem for you to decide.
Patterns.
-

Here breathes the empty rain
Born with richness
Their habit is greediness
Falling, believing it’ll never end

Here sighs the vacant earth
Raised with poorness
Their habit is greediness
Squeezing, believing it is finite

Here dies the sighing wind
Revived with air
Their habit is reasonable
Stealing, restoring order

-

Picking up what's been dropped and dropping what's been picked up, and having it done all over again.

I may be putting up my several interpretations on this poem later.

I also really like the name I've given this poem.

Go blog yourselves.

Ending (poem)

This one was a fast one, I used a few old ideas I came up with before.

I'll find out if I like this one after a few days.

Ending.

-

So we’re waiting
This waiting is beautiful

So look at everything at what it seems to be

Dullness is glistening us

Silver is ruining this moment
Preserve this gold and embrace reality
Because our fortune is corruption
This treasure is unclean

So look at how everything seemed different
Crumbled like paper

So I’m waiting
This existence is infinite

-

This poem is like comedy and tragedy or even the ironies of life, kind of thing.

But I always lean towards the darker side of life, it's more humorous to me.

How some of us can laugh at how bad things are.

But it's strange because some people who have nothing are happier than those who have everything.

So go blog yourselves.

Regret

Sometimes it's worse to apologize.
Better they hate you and think you're heartless than to give them hope.
-
I believe and follow in this.
I don't mind being the bad person when I have to, I believe that takes courage.
Because almost everyone would want to be in the clear of whatever misunderstanding or situation they're in or whatever they have done, even if the outcome were to be the same.
I personally think it's being greedy.
But as I said previously (previous post), what's wrong with being greedy?
Contradiction there, but this time it's more about helping letting someone else let go and making things easier for them.
And everyone has their own form of the truth.
So, what's wrong with being a little helpful?

Go blog yourselves.


P.S

I'm sorry for the things I should or shouldn't have done and the things I have and haven't done.
I really am sorry for everything.
Anything small can affect someones life forever and I've done things I truly regret and would love to go up to everyone and personally apologize for what I've done, now and then, I wish I could do say sorry so badly, I really mean it... But that would just make me greedy and make things harder for everyone.
Let me be the bad guy so that only I can carry this burden.
Whether I'm a good or bad person doesn't matter, as long as it's easier for everyone.
Heh, another contradiction eh?
Sometimes it's okay to be a little greedy I guess.
I hope that the discipline in everyone's hearts, including my own, will prevent us from doing further damage.

Time

I'm only waiting to get left behind
-
"As mortals, not only are we fragile, but we also have a time limit. The worst thing one can do is hesitate. Every time you do so, you lose precious time. One must be able to act and make choices without a moments hesitation" - Chapel (from Trigun, an anime)

I found this very interesting, and I've followed it to some extent.
Because I've always believed that the best possible choices or what you want is right in front of you or on the tip of your tongue.
Whether it's from buying a t-shirt or even an important decision you have to make in your life.
A lot of you may disagree with this and choose to take your time but we already truly know what we want.
The only problem is letting go with what we have, whether it be a thought, a feeling or even something materialistic.
It is difficult.
That's why sometimes some decisions must be made right then and there.
Because you don't want to get left behind.

So what are you waiting for?
You already know what you want.
The only problem is letting go with what we have.
What's wrong with being greedy sometimes?

So go blog yourselves.

Morning Star (poem)

This one I did awhile back but decided to post it here because I like it.
No other reason, in someway it compliments the poem "tempted to sin" since that one is about the seven deadly sins, let's say this is more about who tempts you.
Truthfully I didn't put that much effort into this poem as well, so it's very basic to me but I think it's nice once in awhile to keep things light.
Here it is...
Morning Star.
-

Do you not know what I do?
For you…
I will litter this world with beauty
Dampen your heart with love
Angelize you with jewelry

A contagious spell
You cannot dispel

Let us enjoy, quench our desires
Drink all our sins by the fires
Waver with me, your only friend
Because this will be our bitter end

Come with me where I‘ve fell
The endless abyss called hell

Do you not know who I am?
I am…
The filth between spaces
The thorn in your embraces
The snake behind your graces

I am… Satan

-

The reason of the title "morning star" is because it is one of the titles of Satan.

This poem is all about worldly desires and pretty much how Satan fell from God's grace and will just drag you to hell with him.

Though basic and light, to me every line of course must mean something, "a contagious spell, you cannot dispel" should obviously mean the desires we're offered and how easily we can influence others.

Go blog yourselves.

Only human (poem)

This one was something I did really fast. I got the idea and just put it out there, I also decided that I wouldn't edit it because maybe then I'll be able to write my best without editing over and over and God knows how many times til I feel it's right, being a perfectionist when it comes to writing is a good thing but I do want to write a book one day but I don't want to spend too many years on it.
Here's the poem.
Only human.
-

Guilt stained hands
Shameful strokes
Only…

Blood stained hands
Murderous grasp
Still…

But only still…
Dirty hands remain
To catch us when we fall

We’re but human

-

Idea of the poem is that no one is perfect.

Our concept of perfection is something that we can accept.

So by the end of the day, we're all pretty fucked up.

So go blog yourselves.

Emptiness (complimentary)

When I start writing poems I keep editing it til I'm happy with the result.
I keep moving, changing, experimenting with words and trying to put meaning behind meanings if I can.
Like in "tempted to sin" for example I played with the 1st and 3rd stanza (I don't know what else to call it) you can see in the first few lines the words "difficult, difficultly, hardly" and in the last few lines you can see "easy, easily, ease" and the ending of the 1st and 3rd stanzas is the title of the poem "tempted to sin".
So my point is, I keep playing around til I'm satisfied with what I have.

So in the process of writing the poem "believe" I ended up coming up with a different idea.
Trying to make sense of what doesn't really quite make sense.
Here it is, the complimentary poem to my other poem...
Emptiness.
-

There’s nothing to give but emptiness
The source of our lives
We all have spaces to fill
So much vacancy
You can’t take away anyone’s emptiness
It’s endless
So my need is infinite
You can fill the holes in my heart
You can occupy the gaps in my soul
And still, there will always be so much room for you
I will love you forever

-

Once again, empty words trying to capture raw emotion.

Like oil and water.

Go blog yourselves. 

Believe (poem)

This one was hard to do.
Especially since I didn't feel the emotion i'm portraying in this one (empty words and emotions, could be the two).
It's my version of what I think love is.
Here is it, believe.
-

Twisted, like a series of knots
You untangle me,
You bind me

A whisper, as if a lullaby
You speak to me,
You deafen me

A kiss, to show affection
Your passion is razor-like,
You cut me

An embrace, ensnaring my space
The void is opening,
A grave for my apathy

A kiss, once again
Delicately touching my vacant heart,
Home is where trust is

Alone, you bother me
Casting shadows over my darkness,
You smother me

A kiss, yet again

You drive me into madness,

You listen to me

-

Why I ended with you "you listen to me" instead of "you love me" because...

To me showing extreme vulnerability by expressing yourself (trust) and having someone listen (not simply hear you but to listen and understand) to that shit, means they truly care.

That, for the poem, for me, I think was the most powerful way I could think of to end it, because love in the poem is already portrayed.

Go blog yourselves.

Fish?

If God is dead;
Who’s left to feed the fish?

-

Something I actually thought of when I temporarily had to take care of the fish at home.

To them, I was God, I controlled their fate.

Whether I wanted them to live or die was completely up to me.

And my... The number of ways I could kill them... Almost near infinite.

So!

Here we are.

In Gods fish tank.

Go blog yourselves.

Tempted to sin (poem)

A poem about why we people stray from our own path of righteousness.

We all have it in ourselves to know what is right and wrong.

But...

"it's not hard to fail, it's not easy to win" - lyrics from Cold (wasted years)

The small thin line which separates good from bad.

Here's the poem, tempted to sin.

-

How difficult it is to constantly repair the damages
Difficultly maintaining our innocence
Hardly worrying about our purity
Tempted  

Beauty, lost to its own essence,
Sleep, lost to its own dreams,
Hunger, to its own greed,
Fortune, to its own riches,
Passion, to its own fire,
Confidence, to its own ego,
And love, to its own shamelessness

How easy it is to cleanse the dirt with more dirt
Easily ruining simplicity in its finest forms
Tarnishing human nature with ease
To sin

-

Remember, nothing worth doing is easy.

Go blog yourselves.