Drunken Chaos Read online

  There is always a high, a peak. An Everest upon which I stand before I crash deep down into the ocean.

  My journey like that of a feeble man flying. From the lift off to the end.

  The man flies, reaches the clouds and rejoices, as I had done.

  People below were meaningless then.

  Another swish of wings and the man rises further, and further.

  Far above in the 'spheres until that singular moment,

  when he gasps for air and there is none to be found.

  I have choked and torn up, I fell to the ground. I am no Icarus but I still feel cruelty of the tides and the ocean's wrath.

  Self-centered and hateful. My poetry becomes a meaningless drivel.

  It repeats...never stops.

  But why should it not?

  My life a linear line with no bumps. I should be grateful that no Mischief crossed my way.

  ***

  And by Gods will I see my life,

  torn to ruins without a struggle.

  Rebuilt to a corrupt city,

  with no remorse.

  XVIII. illusion

  ** Introduction

  A journey through life, we see these illusions.

  Plastic things, fantasies unreal we wish reality.

  Bad or good, we live it as we live our own lives...

  They die though they live,

  why do we feel responsible?

  **A thought

  Nothing goes on, though we can review what has happened. We see and relive those moments as we remember our own memories.

  ** Sound

  We go on, munching away at realities unreal.

  We devour feelings and treat ourselves like drama queens.

  Outside, quiet, distraught.

  Sometimes too loud, because we want it to be true.

  Define that “it”.

  ** Drugs

  Drink to a coma, smoke till you black out.

  I snorted oxy in my days, to forget.

  One day, to kill myself.

  The next day, to feel free of the chains bounding me.

  Day after that, to keep away my fears.

  ** Feelings

  In a man-made world, we are walking zombies,

  beyond that blank look, we feel.

  We feel, and no one else does.

  Because that's what we see.

  ** Reality

  Confusion sets in.

  Truth, reality, or lie and fantasy?

  How can we distinguish these all?

  They are the same, we are the reality.

  It is in our minds

  ** Conclusion

  I have no answer.

  I do not know...

  My mind is the truth.

  **Afternote

  We repeat lives, we repeat everything. I repeat words, I repeat reality. A dictionary-full of words, a thesaurus-full of synonyms but we keep true to the same repetitious standards....

  XIV. one Sentence, one Expression

  Life is a lie.

  ***

  It's all that needs to be said

  XX. dedication

  Years and years have passed by,

  Winters, falls, summers, and springs

  I have said my goodbye, bye.

  I have cried, and the pain rings...

  A pain, a memory of fire.

  And don't call me a liar,

  when I say I mean all this and that,

  And what I am getting at,

  Is that I will never forget.

  Not today, not tomorrow, and yet,

  when you speak your broken melody,

  it reminds me of a rhapsody,

  composed only for me.

  Countless hours spent, burnt like an effigy in your name. I have sacrificed thoughts, and my heart but as a goddess, you will not be moved.

  Tie me to a stone slab,

  get your knife then stab, STAB!

  Twist, turn, let the blood flow,

  drink! Let your power grow.

  My blood wears thin, unsatisfying.

  Like saltwater to a thirsty man.

  It is then I ran, and ran.

  Away, from the horror,

  and I became an explorer.

  I searched and found an altar of my own. I found you as a trifle being, and ascended my way. Dodging ignorance your worship caused.

  You can beg and plead but cannot obscure,

  a truth freed from my lips,

  compared to a lie of slavery I had to endure.

  You caused my heart eclipse,

  so I left you be, writhing in fire,

  with me at the center of your desire.

  Every tear you shed,

  reminds me of the bloodshed,

  the breath of lust, inhale;

  torment felt, then exhale.

  It is endless.

  ***

  My love walks a fine line with the frustration I feel.

  I am the love, and you are my frustration.

  XXI. I'm coming

  I'm coming, we're coming,

  you killed my wife and child,

  you murdered my soul,

  tormented my body.

  I'm coming, we're coming,

  be prepared for a clean slate,

  You'll be cleansed free,

  sin will not survive.

  I'm coming, we're coming

  to get you away from here,

  a murderous intention,

  life without savagery.

  I'm coming, we're coming

  and tomorrow you'll be dead.

  Today you will live,

  yesterday, you sinned.

  XXII. Copal and my Succinite

  Succinct, brief, fleeting.

  Butterflies on their journey.

  A touch here, a touch there,

  for eternity, I swear.

  Concise, tightly bound.

  We are books of memories.

  A copal fossilized,

  an amber holds a life.

  There used to be a time, before dinosaurs and such things, when we laughed and ran down the streets. We danced in the rain, and got wet.

  Water flowing, a stream.

  Rain falling, a cloud above.

  I hold my hands together,

  but

  the

  sand

  escapes!

  Years later, the oasis is gone.

  The river eroded away.

  The lake dried out, the fish dead.

  A burning background of red...

  The memory of me pulled, Copal weaves her tears into a rope, a noose, strung from atop the world.

  Soft, and painful.

  Constant reminder,

  Concise message,

  Choking but alive.

  XXIII. Glass Ceiling over Hell.

  I looked into the mirror today, and who is that I see there?

  I do not recognize the man, “Who are you?” I ask, but no answer came to me.

  He stood silently and I began to wonder.

  Where is that boy with his blood red lips, and a pale face?

  I remember him, about this tall, short little fella, “What have you done with him?”

  But still no reply, I think and think.

  The man before me, unlike the boy, he was tall, handsome...and hairy.

  “Where is that boy, so skinny, his skin white almost green,

  and eyes dark though deadly red?”

  The man did not reply.

  I paced, he paced with me, thinking too, I suppose.

  “Do you remember him? He had a goofy face and sickly appearance?

  Short, with bones pressing up, trying to free themselves from his body?

  And one arm twisted backward?”

  I shook my head, the man shook his head, too.

  No luck.

  “His lips bled passion, his eyes cried sorrow?

  Maybe you know him,” I told him,

  “Silent, but happy. I guess you could miss him.”

  That is
, I missed him too.

  I watched the man, “He had thin arms,

  smooth as a lady's freshly shaven legs.

  Face devoid of hair, no goatee like yours.

  His hair was choppy, short, unkempt.”

  The boy looked nothing like this man, whose shiny hair swayed gently as he walked.

  But there was another difference,

  “This boy, he always smiled, do you know him now?

  He had ideas, a brilliant boy, a prodigy,

  enlightened beyond belief!”

  I smiled, the man did too,

  “The boy smiled just like that!

  A being of happiness!”

  We both knew him, but lost him.

  ***

  “He was not happy,” the mirrored man said, finally.

  “He was just as sad as we are,

  he has always been.”

  Chapter III: XXIV. a Shift in Perspective. end of Misery

  Angels fly high above in the skies,

  As I watch them fall with cries, I remember a song about being alone.

  Falling stars, I make a wish on their broken wings,

  like a puppet with cut off strings.

  Lonely, and desperate. I feel like a little boy devoid of any joy.

  I cannot cry, and when I ask to be with you,

  you wanted to be with me, too,

  …. but you had someone already.

  Thank you for the great night, hazel-eyed beauty.

  My angel with black wings, medicated from sorrow.

  I will see you on the morrow.

  When I lie here without company,

  not another warm body next to me.

  I can be happy enough for you, not for me, that you do not feel as I do, abandoned.

  Deserted, desolate, detached.

  A wretched endless life, like a single railroad and I am the train.

  I try and try, but so in vain because I cannot attain, a blissful harmony.

  Thank you for the great night, hazel-eyed beauty.

  My angel with black wings, medicated from sorrow.

  I will see you on the morrow.

  XXV. friendships Simplified

  Something different, and something new.

  Rebellious, spiritual and very true.

  Friends.

  They bring harmony, and peace.

  A balance in life, and a release.

  XXVI. liberation

  It has been so long since I've felt,

  as a feather floating in the air,

  a weight fall off my shoulders,

  a smile without a hint of pain,

  and truly free of any burden.

  It has been so long,

  since I've felt my heart beat,

  My poetry makes sense,

  a swirl of smiles and butterflies.

  XXVII. One man

  One foot in the grass,

  one foot on the concrete.

  One hand holds the sword,

  one hand holds the shield.

  One eye sees the beauty,

  one eyes sees the faults.

  One ear hears the music,

  one ear hears the cries.

  One man takes advantage of,

  all the things he feels.

  XXVIII. slide upon Ice

  I hold your hand and whisper,

  “You are safe.”

  We slide upon the ice.

  A solid ground, slippery, firm.

  “I won't let go.”

  We hold tightly.

  Exhilaration, fear, and trust...

  “Now go off alone.”

  You skate beautifully.

  XXIX. my Gift to You

  What will you receive from me?

  My love for you.

  I will

  bask in your beauty.

  And write poetry,

  in your name.

  my Gift to You.

  Eternal place in my heart,

  admiration

  of your perfection.

  I Offer,

  an ear that will listen,

  eyes that do not judge,

  lips that kiss softly.

  Puppy dog eyes,

  crystal ball with bright future,

  the blue from heavens...

  hot tea in cold winter mornings,

  flowers in sunny spring days,

  an umbrella when it rains in the fall.

  I don't like summers,

  sorry.

  ****

  So whence the stars shine,

  come with me outside,

  and enjoy my gifts.

  Chapter III: XXX. Awkward tensions

  What is this like?

  Awkward tensions, secrets hidden.

  Chip upon the clay mask hiding gold.

  A darkness with no light,

  the light bulbs burnt out.

  Tendrils extend, feeling around.

  A touch here, a poke there.

  Forests of mystery, a desert

  with an oasis.

  Water so hot it feels cold,

  air shimmering a mirage.

  Chances have been given

  yet wasted.

  Encounters and confrontations.

  A swordplay, with no fight but,

  if you beat your partner, you will know.

  Swing here and there,

  lunge upon the target but defend.

  Masterful dance, hit slash.

  Block, jump, kick. Punch, dodge,

  and grab the skin.

  What's going on?

  Oceans of your mind

  A surf upon a large wave,

  tsunami leads me away,

  to see the scattered islands.

  But where is the mainland?

  XXXI. My moon.

  When I feel the breeze,

  the air dancing,

  I close my eyes in peace,

  to see clouds hang in my mind.

  Hiding,

  shrouding,

  enclosing,

  my feelings and my thoughts.

  A slight rain, drizzle, falls,

  the sun runs away.

  The moon comes, and with it,

  a question.

  A blanket of misty vapor,

  a fog obscures my vision,

  but my heart stays pure,

  and I yell to the moon,

  “Take me away with you,

  to the darkness and beyond!

  Light my way, and be mine,

  for eternity and after.”

  XXXII. Goddess of Winter (A tribute)

  From the first moment, I knew.

  I saw you, your golden hair.

  And freckles on your face.

  Like chocolate chips,

  on a perfect cookie.

  Never once did you gaze upon me,

  but I knew, one day, you would.

  Never once did you hear about me,

  but one day, you did.

  And you loved me.

  Crystal clear eyes surveys me,

  my muddy brown eyes retorted.

  A silent language,

  the world of hugs, tight grips,

  something unforgettable.

  A loving smile, caring embrace.

  Laughter, the sound of angels.

  I remember the look you gave me,

  blank, wondering, maybe scared.

  Then, I saw that twinkle in your eye.

  A sudden recognition.

  I felt waves of happiness fill up the hall.

  And then you were gone.

  We used to walk, we used to talk.

  We used to kiss, and we used to love.

  Oh, how I loved you.

  *** then what happened

  There have been times when,

  a poisonous venom seeped through.

  You grimaced with anger,

  and you started to cry.

  There have been times when,

  finally, we embraced in love.

  But then you left m
e,

  and it ended.

  *** and so I...

  Secret bygone, I was torn.

  Shreds of my soul, a slap.

  WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

  Stop being who you are!

  Not good enough,

  I am the poison.

  I am the snake,

  the flute-master scares you.

  She is not my master!

  I bite and squeeze but I miss.

  I miss you.

  *** ouroboros

  I bite my tail in infinite humility,

  but you, my goddess, you.

  Winter comes and goes,

  but you, my goddess, you.

  Inspiration, declaration,

  truth comes out, and I know.

  Questions “Why?” “Why?”

  they are gone, nothing left.

  No wonder.

  When I think back, the hugs and kisses, it all makes sense.

  Now that I look back, your stare of hate becomes love and pain.

  And finally, I know.

  Let's make the future different.

  Conclusion: Chaos is Peace.

  Garden's bright, swaying grass,

  marble stones, a walkway.

  What things have come to pass,

  in my secret, hidden hideaway.

  Oh mighty tree of wisdom, tell me,

  What is wrong, what is right?

  An explosion, a trunk full of debris...

  Out of darkness comes the light.

  *****

  A tiger pounces upon my flesh,

  brings me in his teeth,

  strands of clay that create a mesh,

  become my true belief.

  “Oh my higher self, bring me joy!”

  I scream in vain upon him,

  “Why does it rhyme with destroy?”

  The shadow's face is grim.

  ******

  Cowardly, uncontrollable, emotional.

  Describe the shadow.

  Strong, caring, powerful yet relational!

  Where is hidden the flow?

  Words become jumbled, Here comes a man. “Lose Control Lenny” That is his name. With a stern flight, we flew.

  “Dig!” he threw a shovel, and stumbled around.