Bad Poetry

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Oh damn.
We just laughed and we laughed.
Until we were bored of typing 😀 smileys,
and we started to fight.
Things started going down the drain
and my brain too started walking drunk,
you know going left and right.
I know this is bad poetry.
But haha, I hope,
at least if you would’ve seen it,
it would’ve made you laugh.
I am laughing, too.
But you have me blocked.
Things really shut down
between all those laughter riots
and our amateur jamming sessions,
didn’t they?
Why then, don’t I still have the heart
to erase those .wmv’s we recorded?
Maybe because, like day after night
and night after day,
after you left,
my beautiful mind has gone just haywire.
Stuck there, and my day still dawns at dusk.
So extreme, they were,
our insane sciencey discussions,
the earth stopped upon its axis,
that glazed winter froze,
the minute you were gone,
and life is like a glass ball,
filled with gel and glitters,inside which
the Princess now dances alone
amongst twirling magnificent snow flakes.
All night long.

Random verses all written in a day.

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When separate eyes meet in a crowded city square,

Over exploits of their humanity, and time, once and again–

They know they were meant to stay together,

Because they were met by a chance of eternity,

To be lost again, and again.

***

I walk through a dark corridor,

The air hungover with muck and gloom.

The door of the forbidden room stands tall

Like the brooding death of innocence.

I’ve arrived the point where it appears clear,

I’m just trying to kill a love I’ve given up believing.

But the stark darkness stuns the virginity in me,

Which is eager, very eager to take me,

Someplace else…

***

Those roads will be difficult to walk on, now alone.

The sand pebbles and germs, and the whirlpools of air

Which like separate worlds, have flourished to life

From the touch of our feet last trodden.

Preserving our childhoods, and pearls of sweet labor lost-

How dare I violate the sacred order of the worlds,

Which, if, might be conspiring to bring our feet together?

Which, if not, how can I disturb the ghost world,

Where in spirals of dust, our ghost selves would dance?

You will apologize to me, I know, you will. One day.

You know, I deserve one, for what I will have to go through…

The trauma of never being at home, while at home.

 

Finite Hearts

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The stars were once plucked from the ashen grey skies.

They shine on lips now, and in eyes which cannot cry.

The sheen of all the silken dresses was extracted, and torn apart.

Making the poison that flows in the waters to mix in the dirt.

Every heart has slept, every bedside lamp extinguished.

It’ll be just one last time, that we would get to dance


The paper fire’s shriveling up in the dusty grate,

We’re burning up our old love letters to warm us tonight.

Come on, baby, dance with me, this’s that one last time,

When it’s time to bid goodbyes for good and smile.

History ends tonight, civilization will die with the ghost of us,

Tonight there will be no words, just two couples of teary eyes.

And we dance, silently, until we fall, of exhaustion.

Two finite hearts finally, slowly dying in each other’s arms.

Six Months Ago

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Running around,
Screaming around <in my head>
With no questions to ask,
And all pain and guilt.

<Six months ago> You made me wipe away my tears,
<Six months ago> You had me smiling again,
<Six months ago> You had me listening to metal!
<Six months ago> You taught me to love…oo oo ooooo….

Love, love, love, <love, love, love, love, love>
Some mystery it is. <How it happened>
You’d know it all better. <Sure you do>
It’s easy to mistake,
But then it never is.

<Six months ago> It all changed.
<Six months ago> You changed it for me.
<Six months ago> You, you, you happened.
<Six months ago> And your cycle became my eternity.

Words, little words, ran out of mind. <my my, my, my, my>
Some mystery that is. <How it happened>
You’d know it all better. <Sure you do>
It’s easy to mistake.
But then is it?

I plead guilty, <I am I know>
But like all crimes, punish me. <Oh, don’t leave me alone>
You cut me off, like I’m made of paper.
You turned away, like it’ll undo the last six months.

<Six months ago> You spoke a spell, <or something like that>
<Six months ago> If you’d remember, we had something to fight for.
<Six months ago> Six months have passed, and it’s just hurting now.
<Six months ago> You killed us but then there’s the ghost of our laughter…

Taunting through the day and haunting the nights,
You’re out there, soaring up on sunny beaches,
With the tides and the sun, while in silence life leaks outta me,
Caught in the perpetual ice storm, you and life conspired to put me in.

<Six months ago> I wished to die, and fade,
<Six months ago> What I feel now.
<Six months ago> You came in and that changed.
<Six months ago> Now you’re gone and won’t come back again.

All I wanna apologize for is,
I really do miss you.
Baby, you were all the good things,
I believe life ever had to offer me, that I will miss.

Dreams of a Dessicated soul

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Over that hill, there is a meadow,

It’s a dream, and that, I do know.

You’re here, and I’m here, holding hands,

Faraway from the world, this strange land.

.

Riding on horseback, in the sunset,

Through the tall grass wavering,

Lightly in the breeze…

.

It’s a dream, it’s a dream,

To whom do I tell this?

My life woven around it…

Like and intricate sculpture of art.

 

It was once a memory too,

You and me, riding together,

Through those summer fields of wheat.

Running and falling, climbing the hills;

Destiny had woven us with its eternal magic

On the loom of time, to be together forever…

.

Then you were gone, and gone, and gone,

A hundred and twice centuries have passed,

And my abyss has been cold as death,

Life’s a distant memory – my sun hasn’t dawned.

.

It’s just these dreams, subconscious,

Filtering through ice-cold water,

Like little bubbles of hope escaping,

Broadens up the light overhead.

.

In this dream, today, I dream of you,

You’re here, and I’m here, holding hands…

And we’re here this moment and till eternity,

When you’ll come back, will I wake up.

.

Otherwise I’ll never have let you go.

Moving Nowhere

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Chaos it is when I give it a thought,

As to where we’re headed, that fate has wrought.

Peace that I feel in they words’ embrace,

To think, it grieves me, our love for thee is just thy vehemence!

 

Delirious, moonstruck, blinded by desire,

I feel sacrilegious, accompanying thee,on this godless voyage.

Damned we are, condemned by fate to live in doom forever,

Infernal is the wait, to find that horizon, to bring us back to mortal age.
But the sun is not setting and the endless main of waters, ceaseless ahead–

What scares me is that, I don’t see a wish either, a wish strong enough,

Since the wheel is in thy hands and I’m just a guest on thy anchored barge.

But the sun is not setting and the sea is dead, no winds for the lifeless sails don’t bluff.

 

Moving nowhere, standing still in the ocean of utter desolation, scares me.

We’re trapped in this nightmarish reality, I have no luxury of waking up.

Maybe I don’t want to wake up, I love thee for all I know.

I can’t shatter all those cherished dreams for this one nightmare.

 

Knowing I have nothing to wake up to, except the fact,

To learn which, will shatter me across the ocean.

Knowing our love was just my imagination I indulged in,

Wishing and crying for slumber to murder my obsession.

The Seeker

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Here is my latest piece of verse I wrote,

“Hopes will never die, as long as my heart remembers the graces you did to me.

When, in the dreamless sea of dreariness I’ll find myself sinking,

I’ll delve deeper under to visit your underwater palace of the seeking.

There in your mysterious ways, and will, and there will I find myself again.”

The Thin Line

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Life is now a stretch of eternal grey,

The lifeless transit tolls heavy on me.

The bones had just recovered

From the last catastrophic fracture…

When the glass was shattered again.

Life has gone into hibernation,

And yet something refuses to die inside me.

The metal window is dented forever,

After too many times the hammer beat on it.

However much I try to say otherwise,

My dreams had always been better than fair life.

That is why some people say, love is like walking a thin line,

Between insanity and gravity. Chaos and harmony.

It will bind you in, if you find your niche,

Or put you out to the mercy of the cruel world, if not.

Breaking Free

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Had been locked up inside my own mind, as if,

Tied by rusting chainmail to the icy castle of night.

So, didn’t even have to  really struggle, to get out,

My spirit, unbound, just by mere thought, broke free

Like a canon-ball of shiny metal set to blaze,

Just shot out of sight…

 

Dashing past the clouds of mist and ghosts from the past,

Unholy things, those were, by inches, couldn’t touch my light.

Everything burned along the path I trailed in my way,

The purest form of energy, like fire, now flowing through me.

Firmly ridden on the back of the mad, mad wind,

I reach for the haloed sunbeams pouring in thick abundance,

Through distant holes in the wide blue-white sky.

 

My quest for peace, finally sated for a while,

I wait at the gates of heaven, to open up.

I haven’t seen my God, and it’s been quite some time.

Sin Cera

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What is that revenge if it’s not taken with a passion?

 

Of, what use would that murder be,

If it doesn’t satiate the bloodthirsty anger?

 

And definitely, is there a way that

Love will find the way out and into your heart,

Unless you learn to set it free?

High

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O’ you, miserable, miserly wretched geek,

You are poor, even though you think you’re rich.

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Because numbers in your bank passbook,

Doesn’t stand for smiles that take your look.

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Waking up, you will see it one day,

You’re left alone, and the world has moved on…

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All cooped up inside your little nest, you are

Like an angry, very angry bird.

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As much you want,

You can peck and punch through your walls,

But no ear still, will hear your cries.

.

(You can’t eat your gadgets,

I know you will not ever–)

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Ashtrays will go on piling up, more and more

The dustbin overflowing with paper and rust.

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Decaf will always remain stuck to your mug,

But no one’s home to do the dishes tonight.

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Old and haggard, you’ll turn with time,

No smile you’ll get, just scowls and butts.

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Lying in your bed you’ll cough and toss,

But no hand will touch your forehead with love.

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Then only two options you have: rub your fat snout,

With a clean white sheet, and come out, right now!

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Or, live in it. And smoke up your life,

Puff by puff, soaring higher and higher,

Like a very angry bird.

By, Cyril Cliffette © 2012

The Healer. The Seer.

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You were like October’s rain, rinsing away the ravages of Juno’s mayhem.
The last embers of a hissing fire, was extinguished with your shower.
With every step you took toward me, you made the crickets in the thicket fade away.
The something that used to corrode my insides, I was finally ready to give up.

Exhausted and lost, gasping for water, I had collapsed.
Hallucinating, probably, dazed I was, fatally close to the point of incinerating myself.
Though not a waterbearer, you shot an arrow from your quiver,
Through the rocks under my feet.

At your grace, upon your mercy, it was spring in mid October,
There sprang a stream, bubbling and splashing, abundant in plentitude.
But I did not lean down to quench my thirst;
Since there was Old Narcissus’ sad tale to note.

Then, passing away, seeing another in distress, you galloped away.
To quench someone else’s lips, to heal another set of broken wings.
You didn’t even turn back once, to see your magic peeling off undone…
That I am left alone again, left to go back to my October in mayhem.