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YOU

SYNOPSIS: A poem about you – not necessarily the person reading this right now…but you never know.

You are my conscience,
you are my soul,
you are everything
that makes me whole.

You are my spirit,
you are my sword,
you are the goddess
whom I applaud.

You are my beacon,
you are my love,
you are my angel
from up above.

You are my teacher,
you are my guide,
you make me cheerful,
which gives me pride.

You are my lesson,
you are my chance,
you bring fulfillment
to this romance.

You are the answer,
you play the part,
you are the owner
of this man’s heart.

You are the desert,
you are the sea,
you are the river
leading to me.

You are my captain,
you are my queen,
you have true beauty
like none I’ve seen.

You are my night sky,
you are my sun,
you are all the stars
combined as one.

You are the sunshine,
you are the rain,
you are the one girl
I’ll see again.

You are a treasure,
you are a rune,
you I’ll see again
this afternoon.

You are so gorgeous,
you are so fine,
you have a beauty
words can’t define.

You are a lion,
you are a bear,
you are the one thing
who’s always there.

You are tomorrow,
you are today,
you are the angel
who lights my way.

Untitled Beauty Part II

SYNOPSIS:
For anyone who has read my former poem ‘Untitled Beauty’, one would know that I based the piece upon a beautiful young woman who dressed up as Jedi Master Aayla Secura from the Star Wars universe for a ComicCon. I do not know her true identity, and I would really appreciate it if someone in the world could actually tell me such information…the link to the image and additional info on this topic can be found in the ‘end notes’ section of the original Untitled Beauty post which can be found at this link: http://wp.me/p24LWs-2H

THE POEM:

This here is not a love poem – no, it is a poem of longing,
about hope, prayer, fantasy, discovering oneself and belonging,
which begins as every morning inevitably does. The light breaks through a moderate sized hole in the wall; the ominous ‘they’ call it a window,
but I call it a distraction, for it wakes me from my slumber where I dream I strike up a conversation with a rare beauty by saying ‘hello’,
rare beauty who is you. All the money in the world cannot buy me another minute in this fabulous fantasy,
where I kissed your sumptuously luscious and tender lips and you held onto my big, broad shoulders oh so delicately,
and I fear, the only way to experience this moment once again, is to physically find you and express
‘you are the only lover Untitled Beauty I have been frequently and hopelessly attempting to impress,
for you are the only young woman in all the world, if not the known universe I am constantly thinking of,
my sumptuously delightful lady of whom I hope to forever and always unconditionally love.

It is true, and it is a fact that I do not dare deny, that never have either of us yet met,
but even with that said, you are a young beauty I can never easily in all my years forget,
and if I am supposed to move on from this fantasy, where am I supposed to move on to?
for no one else in this great round world could ever tame this heart of mine for no one else is you.
Additionally, if I am supposed to move on, where am I supposed to go?
for you are the single greatest adventure of all time that I will ever know.
It is also true that I do not know your name, but, my darling, it is a two way street. You could ask ‘what name do you go by?’ and I’d reply ‘you may call me Naughty Nefarious’
and a giggle may suddenly spring forth from the corner of your mouth. I swear it is no joke, for a name is a name, and mine is mine, for my world becomes so much more delicious
the second I lay my eyes upon your pretty face. I feel so invulnerable, but the truth of it all is, I really ain’t all that tough,
and I fear that those three words that mean so much, but also so little, for they are said too often, in regards to you, I have not said enough.

Ma’am, I am certain you grew up in America, where as I’m from down under, from a state far adjacent to that of Perth,
and it would most definitely seem from our noble beginnings when we were born, God wanted to give us both quite the wide berth.
I dedicated my life to writing and gaining a doctorate, whilst you dedicated yours to staying at home,
loyally watching over your loving family with respect, like an unflinching, always trustworthy garden gnome.
In your spare time you use your remarkably athletic form and go dancing in the grim shadows,
whilst back in Australia, not everything is the stereotypical gullies and meadows.
However, what the two of us have in common are the numerous stars that we watch at night, and the clouds all black and blue;
that unusually warm touch you feel right now upon your shoulders young lady – that’s me, romantically thinking about you,
for I frequently hunger for your passionate affection, and I swear I’ll starve without you near,
and I wish we weren’t separated by oceans and continents, I wish you were with me right here.

I often wonder what is happening with the world, and where the old one I once knew and loved inevitably went,
and why all of the once potent emotion is being poured into pain and horror, and if it is emotion well spent.
What happened to the age old conception ‘treat others the way you want to be treated’?
for in this world, truth justice and mercy are sacrificed, and true love is defeated.
I hope this inevitability ain’t my fate, and if so, I ask you, give me another toss at the game of luck, give me a second chance,
for although I ain’t no proud patriot who can fight through thick and thicker, I am a strong believer in emotion, reminiscence and romance,
and I can assure you, I would bleed on the Union Jack to make sure the faithful stripes stay bright red.
No matter whether I’m alive or in my time of dying, I feel there’s nothing more to be said,
but I would ask that you do not become overburdened with sad and depressing emotions and burst into tears for me, and that you happily smile in remembrance instead,
and if the world was plunged into war tomorrow, I would participate if it meant I could keep dreaming about you inside my head.

When imagining a fantasy world in which we know one another I can picture a location of common place where you’re listening to Metallica
over the radio, their awesome rock n’ roll classics ripping through the speakers as you loyally jam to their tunes, before introducing yourself as ‘Aayla.’
It must be an expensive persona you are living as we attempt to guess your origins. ‘No’ you say, ‘I ain’t from Launceston, and I ain’t from Maribyrnong.
No, I am from nowhere near here.  Instead, I come from a different place entirely with traditional working man roots, where Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Wrecking Ball’ is the theme song;
where the widely renown Star Wars theme is sung every night before dinner;
where the biggest loser can almost always become the biggest winner.
That’s right ladies and gents, I come from the mighty United States, and I will certainly return there soon,
so if you’ve something to tell me I suggest you confess it real quick, and by that, I mean this afternoon,
cuz come tomorrow I’ll be long gone, and young man, you especially, will be left on your own,
and being a pure blooded California gal and a pseudo Australian I can tell you twice, it’s awful cold when you are all alone.’

I have this uncanny feeling inside my heart and soul, one where I believe legitimately to have already lost you once, but I promise I won’t lose you again twice,
and to this I can assure you to ensure my promise fulfilled, I will commit to anything you ask of me and do whatever you say and I would take any advice,
no matter how fruitless it may seem, for I am officially sick of being alone, and all of this empty space;
I am sick to my stomach at being away from you and wherever you want I will meet you, any time or place. 
For if feeling good is a crime (and I’ve never felt this good until I laid my eyes upon you), someone had better lock me up right now cuz I feel fantastic,
and in regards to all of your truth and beauty, and all the love in your gorgeous heart, I have officially become an addict
for you. But when it comes to love, perhaps I am simply and without a doubt incompetent
cuz I fall madly in love way too easily. Then again, perhaps I am a delinquent
for failing to expertly spot the difference between human life, unconditional never ending love and horrifying misery,
but even with this said, if I were to die tomorrow, I would never want to go to Heaven, unless you were up there waiting for me.

To have you rare angel, I will delve deep into formidable places where no hero dare goes,
and upon hearing this you might reply ‘really? Well, tell me Pinocchio, how long is your nose?’
I am no liar, you have to believe me when I say I think I love you, and to ensure your survival, I’d push you out of the way of a nuke.
You won’t ever need to be a fabulously rich duchess for me to love you, but if you were, and you were to ask of me, I’d gladly be your duke.
After hearing these words Untitled Beauty, it might be best that you throw away your key after locking all your windows, and barring all the doors,
and make a pact with Satan, or pray to whomever God you solely believe in, for no existing mortal entity can save you anymore
from my love, which is invulnerable to harm. However, in reality, I have to ask you, in regards to romance, how can it be a good thing if those we love are doomed to die,
after pledging all of our allegiances and our love into their lives, and rare angels such as yourself succumb to destiny and perish, before plummeting out from the falling sky?
But if this unfortunate fate were to become yours, to get you back, I can assure you, I would traverse through the village of the damned,
if it meant eternal happiness could return to me again, and I could one day have my loving heart safely under your command.

When the world is at its darkest, and I’m drowning in the depression of the rain
I simply sit back and gladly admire your beautiful picture once again,
and imagine what you might ask me if we were to meet. You’d enquire ‘Derek, Naughty, whatever title you choose to go by’, before asking what I am going to do for you,
and I’d truthfully reply ‘I would take the stars right out of the night sky if such an act could prove my love alive and whole, and I would paint ‘em pink and purple and even pure gold too!’
It may sound completely out of this world insane, but what I say is not a total fabrication, and it certainly ain’t a ruse;
if given but one opportunity to spend my life with anyone, you are the only person I’d always faithfully choose,
because sweet Aayla impersonator, you are without a doubt one in 7.4 billion.
Dressing up in all those outfits moreover, you look exactly like a saucy chameleon;
you look incredible; you look beyond inhuman; you look flawless; you are perfect undoubtedly,
and with those luscious red lips and that sugar sweet smile I just know you are destined to belong with me.

Sometimes the darkness wakes me up and sometimes the silence speaks so loudly it is deafening to behold,
for whenever I am without you Untitled Beauty, I suddenly feel so indescribably cold,
because it is only in your eyes that I believe I have found where I eternally belong
and never until this moment which stands before me now have I felt so immeasurably strong.
However, in this inhospitable place, I fear I might be labeled the interloper, or the pariah
because of you my darling, for being all that I’ll ever want, all that I’ll ever need; for being my eternal desire,
and, to put a stop to this, people may light up their torches and sharpen their pitchforks too, before coming to claim me,
and will point to those who can corroborate that it was I, the antagonist, who acted with such vile villainy,
for all the boys who look upon you are filled with lustful gluttony, and the women become so jealous
at your unfathomable angelic beauty, and as for I, you make me so romantically ravenous.

Remember when I said this was not a love poem my dear? Well, I have to admit that perhaps I lied,
and if such be the case you could always blame it on the demon I have within this heart of mine inside.
I can assure you, I do not write these words in order to gain power, and I will certainly never need the likes of money or fame,
especially after I win over your beautiful beating heart, for then I will have everything I’ll ever need once it’s you I claim,
and although I still don’t quite know you, from your personality to your values, from your general likes and the neighborhood
you grew up in, judging by your looks alone, you deserve to be erected centre stage in the middle of Hollywood,
and then, once I’ve identified who you are and more, as promised, I’ll spend my life staring lovingly into your eyes forever.
The chance, if even there was one which I doubt, of me falling out of love with you my darling rests somewhere between naught and never,
so if you have ever had grave concerns, I ask that you ‘don’t fret, don’t cry and don’t ever believe
that feelings from your heart unto mine is not the one thing that I have always wanted to achieve.’

THANK YOU FOR READING!

the Night Melbourne Died

SYNOPSIS: About a young woman who left Melbourne, Victoria, to experience a life outside the city, and the repercussions of her leaving on the state. For she was no ordinary woman – no, she was the heart and soul of the city, and without her, everything was no longer as beautiful as it once was, paradise being inevitably lost.

A million Australian hearts are aching because we love you,
if you would close your eyes you can feel exactly as we do.
You should know deep down that one of those hearts indeed belongs to me,
like so many others you are my private stash of ecstasy.
Yet none of us will ever be able to feel your gentle touch
despite the each of us been cursed with this infatuated crush.
For you are the heart and soul of all that is Melbourne;
from the Yarra River all the way to St.Albans.
And if you should leave you would hear the sounds of all who have cried
for the night that you left is the night, that poor old Melbourne died.

I turn on my television and see your name on the six o’clock news
and then your face appears and I stare longingly into those baby blues.
When you left everybody they knew you, but then the city began to fall,
it would appear through such actions that none of us really ever knew you at all.
When we used to sit together I should have tried to make conversation
because your leaving inevitably caused all of this devastation.
It would appear that not confessing these feelings was a terrible mistake,
the final one of such gargantuan magnitude that I shall ever make.
And now that I’m alone, I’d give up forever just to see you again,
for you are the heart and soul of this city, being my lover and close friend.

I would have said something to you but I always get so nervous
and I feared you had a boyfriend I would not want to make jealous.
If I had tried to confess my feelings you would have known you had my full attention
for my lips would have failed to move as I attempted to conduct conversation.
My big, wide brown eyes would have been all that expressed the truth;
that I am forever and undoubtedly cursed to never stop loving you.
I would have told you how I feel and asked if you hunger for me,
for you are my angel; the only one I ever see.
I would confess I feel the urge to have you crawling underneath my skin
and said ‘the hell with it’ if I was considered to be living in sin.

Usually in this alternate universe I’d have been incredibly shy
but on this one, fictitious occasion I do believe I caught your eye.
I was strung out and lost, without any sense of bravery,
but you helped provide to me my missing masculinity.
On that night it would have been both our first time, during which I felt I died
and on this hypothetical night we made love, you turned your back on me and began to cry.
You would compare our love to a boat on the ocean being pushed forward by oars,
‘this was mine’ you would say, indicating your body, ‘but now all this is yours.’
But the fates or whatever have permanently barred me from you
and I guess this fantasy world I live in will have to make do.

In truth I am only half the man you need me to be
although I have been caught by your embracing melody.
You have put a spell over me as you have over every man you’ve ever met,
your radiant appearance is the one thing I’ll never be able to forget.
Compared to you we are but flotsam lying under the city lights
whilst you soar gracefully up above, being our radiant satellite.
For not confessing these feelings I especially am sorry
but one day I might open up my heart once I’ve found the glory.
And when that day does come I shall tell you ‘you are my queen’,
I’m sure many other men know exactly what I mean.

Everything I have failed to achieve can never be undone
and the feelings I have for you are constantly on the run.
For my feelings are a lost and broken ship at the mercy of the sea
constantly fighting for survival and hoping one day you’ll notice me.
Because you are the great lighthouse, which is positioned in the harbour,
waiting patiently for the right ship to arrive and be your lover.
There you are so graceful, captured in the simplest and most purest of ways,
your light, which is so eloquent, constantly shining every single day.
If only it were so easy to tell you how I feel
then perhaps I could take you out for an exquisite meal.

But I know all of these feelings are a result of an infatuation,
at least that is the opinion I have acquired from this one assumption.
The strongest thing in this city would undoubtedly be your spirit,
the one thing in all of Melbourne that none of us could ever edit.
If your presence were to ever leave I would feel so lonely and out of place
and inevitably I would be caught by the memory of your embrace.
I would undoubtedly remember how I stumbled all my life,
until I laid my eyes on you, wishing for you to be my wife,
for you are the young woman who shall save all of our lives;
and save each and every one of us from our own demise.

If I had written a diary, you would be in every single line,
describing your beauty on every page which is just so sublime.
By writing my feelings down no longer would they be trapped behind a barren door,
in reality this facade of mine is something I can’t keep up no more.
Since meeting you my life has changed and has ultimately not been the same;
I am proud to say although I do not write it down that I know your name.
I, like so many other men, find myself wishing to turn back time;
I too, like every other man, wish that someday you could be mine.
But then reality bites, the curtain falls and all the lights come up
and I know deep down that this fantasy world will never be enough.

If you should ever disappear, who will ever take your place,
for there is nobody in this world with such a pretty face.
And just like a river runs directly out to sea
I would wish that someday you would return to this city.
And perhaps a miracle would occur and you would return someday,
when that day does come, everything, will inevitably be okay.
But until this day does come fantasy and reality cannot relate
and the penalty I’ve been endowed is that my mind cannot think straight.
Until the day you do return, in my heart you are a runaway train
and all of my feelings for you, which are locked away, beg to be explained.

Everyone of us inside this state are filled with a great amount of pity,
each and every one of us praying for the survival of our city.
If I had to take your place to protect this city I know that I could
if you told me to be yours forever I know I undoubtedly would.
But until that day comes we drink ourselves down to new lows,
the love each of us has for you continuing to grow.
For you are the heart and soul of all that is Melbourne,
from the Yarra River all the way to St.Albans.
And if you should leave you would hear the sounds of all who have cried
for the night that you left is the night, that poor old Melbourne died.

Unloved

SYNOPSIS: About a man who comes walking into town, and not a minute after his entry, he has already found that certain someone he wishes to spend his life with.

My contention when writing this love poem is to tell it from a third person view
that way no one in the world will know your name and will have no one to tie it back to;
and neither of us will ever become embarrassed, or caught up in great despair,
for my secret will be carefully hidden within the pages of this poem.
In truth however I don’t even know your name, but I do remember those angel eyes,
I only hope you can forgive me, if from now on I refer to you as ‘she’ or ‘her.’

We first met on a beautiful Friday morning at approximately ten a.m;
her hair was a lustrous red and flowed down her back like an extravagant ocean.
She wore tight jet black pants with decorations of brilliant red roses down the sides,
whilst her perfectly symmetrical body moved in unison with every step.
She had the body of an angel, all she was missing were those great white wings,
but why would she ever need them, for I did not wish for her to fly away.

That same day I was a complete stranger, who had only just come rolling into town,
I had already built up quite the reputation, for breaking hearts and taking names.
The dust kicked up around my feet as I attempted to blend in with the crowds,
but she suddenly spotted I; the man who was not walking too casually.
I was bound to do some extreme damage, which must have been why I looked so out of place,
my eyes coming to lock upon her; the ravishing angel, who was a work of heart.

She looked upon my face as I stared into those unmistakably beautiful eyes,
that were, long and behold a paradise, hidden by the single most gorgeous disguise.
Such was her silky skin, her stylish hair, her flawlessly perfect body,
my eyes being unable to remove themselves from such a perfect figure.
But that moment, it did not last forever, and it unfortunately had to end
and when finally given the opportunity I could never find her again.

Once upon a time I had found myself lost within the troubles of my youth,
I can only hope that I am not ashamed of the person I am today.
To prove myself the protagonist that was sent to rescue the woman of my dreams,
I would accomplish everything and anything to secure a happy ending.
She may yet wonder why I dare do things that others do not, after heeding talk of caution.
But I dare deliberately to do almost anything to become the man I ought to be.

For if she were to combine her ravishing voice with mine, such would be stupendous,
as we fatedly come together to experience romance everlasting.
To do this however she would need to cross a river of grief, pride and pain
to eventually find that old tragic heart of mine buried deep down inside.
By doing this she would be shown a part of me that no one has ever seen;
a part of me, moreover, that no one else in this world of ours ever will.

I find myself compelled to ask her the question ‘girl, what am I to you?’
‘Am I unloved?’; ‘Am I your future?’; ‘Do we even share a connection?’
I ask such a question because in this world there are two kinds of men;
these include, those of whom you grow out of and those who you grow into.
I hope with all my heart however that I am to be indeed the latter.
I may not be the man she loves today, but I can wait until tomorrow.

Nevertheless I cannot believe that she has not seen through my secret disguise;
it is so thin, so unnecessarily useless that I wish to tear it down.
I pretend I am the man of her dreams, when in reality I don’t believe I am.
With this said I would appreciate becoming the man who could provide to her a home.
I feel however that the fates, your friends, your family, all believe this could never work
and if that be the case leave me gone forever; leave me but a memory, nothing more.

Just so Perfect

Synopsis: About a woman who is, as the title suggests, ‘just so perfect’, yet she is at the time wounded from her previous relationship and is in need of consolidating. The piece also tells the story of the man who has loved her so all these years and has only just realised that what he has felt all this time was indeed love, and not a fabrication.

I hear many voices; all of which are so clear.
I can hear them talking, but I can’t believe my ears.
You broke up with your boyfriend,
that is the talk of the town.
You were the greatest girlfriend,
but now you live with a frown.
To have you in my life I would do anything.
I mean that, because to me you’re everything.

You are so beautiful,
more than incredible,
you are just so overly cute,
want to say ‘I love you’
but it seems so moot.
Now what can I do
when my love is a defect
and you are just so perfect.

It sucks to realise love has been there all along.
How could I never see it? Is that right or wrong?
When I expressed to you ‘you’re beautiful’
I admit, I unfortunately lied,
for your beauty is unfathomable
and in my heart, I feel for you inside.
To be with you no sacrifice would be too great,
just as there is no promise, I would ever break.

You cannot escape my love; do not try to run,
damn, it is great to have found my certain someone.
For when we are together
my heart never weeps nor cries;
as long as there is forever
my love for you will never die.
So please darling, I beg you, give my love a chance
and allow me to cripple you with this romance.

Without you I am lost; I’m not at all myself.
Your beauty is comparative to endless wealth.
I did say ‘I love you,’
but I was just so wrong.
I am in love, that part is true,
but love could never last so long.
Such a feeling tastes exactly like a first kiss.
Nothing in this world could be better than all this.

I cannot believe my extraordinary luck.
I’ve managed to find the flower I wish to pluck.
You’re more radiant than Heaven above,
but sometimes you act so negatively.
I get to my feet to defend my love
and without a second thought you slay me.
You cut me with such passion, making my heart sigh,
and then I remember, that true love never dies.