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Undelivered Feelings

The silence spoke volumes
I didn’t know existed
when these undelivered feelings
coursed through me. Though the ending
retained a sense of predictability,
my eyes refused to witness
the brutality of unwavering honesty,
the tender touch of my agenda
restraining the hopelessness
often applied to romance.

Always, I try frenetically
to grasp that which shines the brightest,
only to continuously return
with empty hands and bludgeoned heart,
to an existence
seemingly more meaningless
than before. Though you are a beauty
of utmost arousal, you are a cactus,
whose spines thwart the undeserving masses
with unequivocal poison,
my heart wanting to retain its warmth
than face the solace-less alone.

So, I hide within myself, malcontent
yet absolute, certain this tragedy
will provide a conclusion, better sustained
than what would have been.
With able mind I realize,
I will not risk your face,
so beautiful now,
turn into a scowl
the moment I reveal my feelings.
If this decision renders accusations
regarding confidence
and cowardice wrought against me,
then these slanderous remarks
I will regrettably suffer
without dismay, for I acknowledge
my deserving of these titles,
and I own this hesitation.

If only a sign, so subtle,
but immediate and paramount
could be issued, granting me allowance
to whether you were open
to love’s flame,
or wanted it blown out.
Despite the combustion of atoms
retaining less potency
than my love for you,
to some, romance is a horrific poison,
but even so, I would devour every drop
for you alone, if only to spend eternity with.

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Yet to Find my Love

Will I be met in a future
not yet determined
by a graceful love interest?
Oh, sweet paramour,
might you caress my heart (perhaps)?
Or is it lunacy to compare
the love of fairy tales
with morbid reality, the taste
of which is never
as delectable. After all,
what is this insatiable desire
called love, but a chemical reaction
of the mind, and like all chemicals,
the drugged effect it induces
offers no reprieve from the reality
we face. Humans are mammals,
and mammals do not
mate for life; nothing
is ever permanent.
It is all make believe,
and I do not know who it is
we are trying to fool, when romantic
couples remain together
for years and years. The fighting;
the bickering; the cheating;
is it not enough to end
a marriage? To sever
a connection, permanently,
with a paramour, turned villain?
Remain together long enough
and everybody becomes
the bad guy; no heroes ever fall
in love. Why bother spending
so much money on counseling
and therapy? The love once felt
died long before the first kiss
was ever implemented.
Maybe, however doubtful
it might be, these are just
my thoughts gone rogue.
Maybe I do not wish
for happiness, but for something
else instead, deep within
the bowels of my supposed soul,
believing myself ripe for suffering,
as punishment, for not
already finding love.

The Unchosen Choice in Destiny

I was told ‘I love you’ once,
but now those days
are just an echo in my mind,
for never shall these words
of three, pass over the tongue
and through the moist lips
of another potential paramour
again. In a vain attempt
to avoid the pain that comes
with heartache, I find myself
blessed that I can become
like a robot on occasion,
and walk stiffly like a cyborg
would, rather than move
fluidly like a human,
for if I walk like the majority
of this planet’s population
society will be disgusted.
Never have I been real good
at acting like a human, and
the people I come in contact
with can effortlessly see through
my masquerade, and although
I hate the fact that after
all this trouble, I still feel the dark
emotions of a traumatised
soul flourishing through
my senses, I know not
how to conclude such a feeling.
Unlike a watch in dire need
of repair, with parts that can be
easily switched out for new
features, I cannot be mended,
and shall instead remain forever
broken indefinitely. I cannot foresee
a potential future where
I am destined to be loved
by anyone; on the contrary,
I have been witness to the potential
future, and it is of no surprise.
When the end does come,
and its fruition is unstoppable,
I’ll find myself dying
alone and afraid in the corner
of a rundown establishment,
because such is all I am deserving.
If by some miracle I was to be
reunited with romance once more,
suddenly and without expectation
I would proclaim to the woman
I have fallen for ‘you have saved
my life!’ and she would jump
several feet towards
the stratosphere, yet manage
to retain her usual glare
all the same. But love,
although been strong in feeling
is never really quite enough,
and I would believe
the sensation traveling
across my major senses
to be nothing more
than a facade, and upon reaching
this conclusion, whether
or not it carried the weight
of truthful logic, I will push
my lover away until they leave,
for my destiny will then prevail
and I shall be left alone
again, as I inevitably always will.

Nocturnal Butterfly

I be like a moth;
absent of attraction
in a world of avid beauty,
much unlike the butterfly
who skims across the air by day.

When the night arises
I hide beneath a waterfall of shadows
in the hopes that you won’t see me,
and to save every other person
from having to look upon my form.

But maybe I be beautiful
in a way that has been judged unfairly;
matter this does not no more,
for never shall a pair of eyes
fall happily upon myself again.

A time there perhaps was once
when a photo could have been snapped
of me and hung upon your wall of hatred
as to remember me by,
but how could one ever forget
a creature, unloved and hideous?

The answer to this question
is irrelevant as I write these final words.
Farewell sun; hello moon,
I am your servant now,
and as long as judgmental eyes
avoid my features forevermore,
I will remain humbly yours indefinite.

 

Where I Am Right Now

To the woman I have fallen for,
you know exactly who you are.
I saw you once from across the room,
and without a word,
you had me wrapped around your finger.

Our time together,
although it really wasn’t ‘our time’
and together we certainly never were,
was spent apart,
with an opportunity presenting itself
every so often
for me to take a glimmer of you.

I drew you into me like oxygen,
even when I did not want to,
and I remember thinking
how I wanted you as my own.

Even now, as I try to articulate this into words
it is difficult to fathom,
for you simply were yourself,
just as I simply was attracted to you.

The courage I needed to tell you,
(a woman who is totally out of my league,
for you have made your bed
with those I do not associate with)
that I had been crippled with an infatuation,
and the only cure to what ailed me was your affection,
was beyond my very comprehension.

Of course, I should have realised
you would be unavailable.
I don’t know if you lied,
maliciously or with omission,
it does not matter,
for I promised to respect your answer
and to never bother you again.

I had every intention of obeying
the decision I had conceived,
and could even become accustomed
to never having you at all.

But what I cannot become accustomed to,
is having to see you endlessly once a week,
not a month after I asked
for your affection.

There you are,
every week without fail,
tormenting me.

You needn’t say a word,
nor do anything;
your very existence pains me
because until I see you again,
I am free from my feelings for you.

Then, I see you,
and every emotion violently re-enters my heart
and I become overwhelmed
with the burdening knowledge
that never will you feel anything for me.

I cannot move on either,
for no woman could ever compare to you
while a piece of you
remains right here with me,
even after I have tried, without success,
to remove you like poison from a wound.

I know how unhealthy this is,
and I have tried to avoid you,
but every path, inevitably,
leads right back to where I am right now.

There may come a time
when I never see you again,
and I will be so glad for this,
because finally, I shall be free.

But if I ever did see you again,
this I could not take,
and again I would be doomed to feel for you,
a romance that could never in a million years
compare to any other emotion.

I guess what I am trying to say is;
I absolutely loathe you,
just as I loathe myself,
because I unconditionally love you
with all my heart and soul,
and until the day
that neither of us are fated to meet again,
I shall remain,
singularly and hopelessly devoted to you.

On this note,
allow me to write,
I am, if you shall have me,
faithfully forever and always yours.
Sincerely and with kind regards,
the writer of this here verse.

When Death Becomes Her

Is conceding to defeat
preferable to basking
in its inevitability?
Humanity began
another war today.
Where one concludes
another begins;
there is no end to
tyranny.

Oppression is what
keeps the heart at bay
and prevents our love
from living. Where
once love reigned
supreme, now she
knows only defeat, for
we have failed to
nurture that which we
once hailed as our
most paramount emotion.

When death became her,
she was taken at the
reaper’s blessing. His
minions, our militaries,
were only too eager to
prove themselves reliable
by eliminating the only
force strong enough to
halter humanity’s violent
expansion.

In the name of hate we
killed her; love is now all
but gone. Her demise will
not be remembered; just
another death on the
casualty list; just another
nameless number in the
statistics; just another
victim to the grinder that
is war. If love was as
popular as hatred,
perhaps she could have
outlasted till the bitter
end.

If this be true; if these
written words are proven
reliable and all that this
piece dare reveals is the
inconvenient existence we
are all bound to, then what
is the purpose to our
continuation? Why bother
submitting to a life that is
destined to be unfinished,
for what is life with the
absence of romantic passion?

The lie we would be forced
to tell ourselves in order
to get out of bed each
morning would be a betrayal
upon our very souls and
lead only to our damnation.
This writer can already
taste the suffocating hatred
that has drenched the
surface of our planet; can
you not taste cherub’s
defeat?

If love was so easily taken,
then what unfortanate
future is in store for our
soul mates? Why bother
living, breathing, eating,
if your lover’s flame has
already been extinguished?
With the amount of death
that has covered this
world, what chance is
there that your future
lover has already been
consumed?

What chance is there for us
if our futures do not include
such passion? What hope is
there for anyone if
tomorrow brings us no
closer to that which we are
lacking? If love is truly
dead, then we have
already joined her in the
afterlife. I only hope that
hatred does not exhist
there too.

Blacketh my Bones

Blacketh my bones with the foul
blood from my frozen withered
heart. Don’t look upon me, the
hideous one for you shall
feel nothing more than a cold
chill travelling over you,
along with the high shriek of
a baby’s cry from staring
too long into these abysmal
eyes. You will find no pleasure
here. I am the pariah;
the interloper; a zealot
of the worst order. I am
emotionless; barren; a
sociopathic beast worthy
of nothing else but a death
deserving of the most Hellish
of all beings. My body will
not be buried with the bones
of men, nor will it be buried
in a grave unmarked by words,
but in an underground pit
where no one will ever have
to suffer me again, for
I have already been
suffered enough and the people
can suffer me no more. At
least this is what has been said
before, the words carried on
the wind to my ear like ghostly
echoes from a supernatural
realm. This is the justification
for treating me with such disdain.
As long as I am viewed as
something less than human then
the people needn’t concern
themselves with guilt-ridden feelings
cuz there is nothing to be
sympathetic for. I have
been loathed intensely by most,
if not all, my entire
life; another fifty or
so years of pure unadulterated
disgust cannot be too difficult
to endure. If it does however
and these words are proven inaccurate,
stabbing my own flesh with a
pointed dagger will certainly
do the trick. I only hope
that nobody has a resurrection
spell, for if they do, alive
I shall be again once more,
for with me but gone, who will
these people come to hate?  There
is no one else more disliked
in this world. I only wish
society would learn to
shield its expression, for the
hate is written all across
their faces in italics.
On top of this, my other
wish is just to be left alone.
Can I not die in peace, sad
and alone and afraid in
a blackened hole away from
the eyes of the people? Apparently
that is too much to ask.

A Name upon my Tongue

I watch so silently, from afar,
unable to ever look away
for I have discovered
the apple of my eye.
My mind, it wishes for something
that shall never come to pass
as my heart trembles and then collapses,
fearing my feelings shall become a scar
upon my bleeding, wretched soul.
It is yours, but then so am I,
and yet even with this writ, never will you know the truth.
You may like me, maybe even perceive me as a friend,
perhaps, but love me? Now that is something you could
never do, something you will never ever do
because I am not the man one falls for,
and I am not your future destiny.

I dream of a luscious kiss being brought
from your tentative lips onto mine
in a moment of brief happenstance.
I hold you, I touch you, I feel you;
your beautiful hair; your beautiful face; your beautiful body;
your beautiful spirit, caressing me and setting fires
upon my soul. Your physical feminine form
perplexes me and wounds my able defences
as an unshakeable trance becomes my soul.
I am trapped before your delicate embrace.
I am your servant. I am your slave. I am forever yours;
please, my young gorgeous darling, do with me whatever you will,
and I shall respond in kind, for I must be told by your heart
the endeavours I must do, else I fear I will not survive.
I have not once in my short life ever fallen for anyone like this; this is new, and has never happened to me,
just like this will never happen to you. But who dare desecrate the beauty of this moment; for Jamie is perfect.

Even if I cannot in reality touch you,
feel you, kiss you, hold you, or share a moment with you
I will hold onto these great feelings for you
until I can hold onto them no more.
I do not wish to do away with them
but this inevitable conclusion
I know awaits me, on the other side of yesterday;
it is simply yet to catch up with me, just as this young
fool is yet to be captured by it. I shake my head strongly
at the thought of not being with you in the upcoming future,
for what is this life of mine, if I am unable to live it?
Why is this stubborn heart in my chest if it cannot beat for you?
Why must I be burdened with these feelings
if a relationship is not allowed?
Listen; I know my place in this society of ours, and it shall never be positioned beside you my love.
If I ever do confess my feelings, please; let me down as hard as possible, so I might fall and break my heart.

Watcher of the Angel

From afar, I watch you,
I close my eyes and dream – what else can I do?
I ain’t quite good enough
for you. I’m not wise, strong, attractive or buff
like the other guys that you crave.
Perhaps I am not man enough or all that brave,
because I am like a specter
to you; you always see through me to the creature
that I try to hide from everyone,
including myself, but I should have known that someone,
someday, would indeed find my secret;
I only wish it wasn’t you, that’s my one regret.

You have beautiful eyes, a great body;
your unbelievable features have cast a spell over me,
and from the moment that I looked at you,
I’ve been hopeless to resist my urges; do you feel them too?
I only wish you could look upon my face,
and not be disturbed by that which I’ve being cursed with – that which I long to erase,
for you do not ever need to say the words
because I know, believe me I know that I do not belong to any herd,
group, clan or fixture of humanity
because unlike you, I was not bestowed by such unbelievable beauty.
Now I realise, and I can respect
the truth, that looks are not everything, but believe me when I say – you’re perfect.

Zen and Peace

SYNOPSIS: A poem about the hope for peace and Zen in a world that has been fractured overtime due to excessive hate and violence. Some of the themes raised in this piece may be controversial to some readers.

Take me to the place where the great golden sun never sets,
where the evil men do to each other we can forget.
Take me to the place where glitter always hangs in the air,
where those who are capable of emotion always care.
Take me to the place where roses are always red; where flower’s always bloom;
where same sex has been legalised, and a man can marry his fellow groom.
Take me to the place where religion is not mandatory,
where people, rather than their Gods, receive all of the glory.

From the evils of the world, I wish to have immunity
and to see the world for what it is; a place of rare beauty,
for I wish to live in a world of love, rather than a world filled with hate;
it is the other side of the coin I know, but why must it be our fate?
I petition that we bring an end to all of the world’s evil,
and that we open our hearts to God, rather than to the Devil,
and that finally each of us can experience Heaven on Earth,
which is what all of us have been seeking from the moment of our birth.

Take me to the place where God does not forgive the sins of evil men,
where people may love whomever they choose and ladies can love women.
Take me to the place where angels do not sit back and watch countries burn,
where teachers truly teach and captivate, and young students truly learn.
Take me to the place where the injured do not feel pain,
where those who are dead or dying never die in vain.
Take me to the place where the grass is never greener, it’s the same on either side,
where respect is mutually accepted and people are not overcome by pride.

Please, do not frown upon my ambitious peace loving dreams,
I beg of you, do not frown upon these words that I scream;
at the top of my lungs I cry out through all the years
and those who support me, do so with relentless cheers,
for those who follow my path to peace believe me to be in the right,
I have fortunately stumbled blindly into the adoring light
and now the dark can no longer have a hold over me
for I have discovered the road to true peace, finally.

Take me to the place where those suffering from hunger never starve,
where all the goods and necessities are divided into halves.
Take me to the place where people are fuelled not by rage but honor,
where everyone has a friend beside them and is not a loner.
Take me to the place where everyone is free to voice their opinion,
where there is always an answer given to every single question.
Take me to the place where marriage is built up on sacred vowels,
where people are but people rather than animals run fowl.

‘You are either with me, or you are against me,
you’re either on my side, or you’re my enemy’;
I was once taught this. I don’t know if I believed it, I don’t know if I still do;
I don’t know who taught it to me, or if I ever felt such a thing to be true,
but why does everything have to be so black and white?
It feels so wrong, when it is supposed to feel so right
but that is just the price, of not seeing things in shades of grey;
inevitably you live in the darkest of all the days.

Take me to the place which is a better, more beautiful world,
where there are equal rights for everyone, not just guys, but girls.
Take me to the place where governments act out of love for their followers,
where there is no need for war; no need for violence; no need for warriors.
Take me to the place where everyone can finally feel accepted,
where everyone can lay their heads back and feel so calm and contented.
Take me to the place where the true lover never leaves;
where everyone can find love – this I wish to believe.