Identity-less Pride Prize

I forgot the beauty of the sun

As I found myself dancing at the glow of the moon

Busy flirting with forgetfulness nightmares

As I forgot how to speak my tongue

But remembered how to tango with the darkness.

Screaming on mountain tops

I faulted those who awarded crowns

& painted the earth red

for its murderous hands

dealt a hand of stubbornness

as the lessons of my fathers

seeded deaf soils

that my mothers mulching

seized to germinate yield.

Yielding to empty hands

but laziness

As I waited for my parents' store

to fill this belly of mine

uncandid wines & curses

their hands get stained

floating my freedom to ravage their stores

while I beat the chest with pride

of my identity-less.

The Neighbor's Heart

 Do you remember when the wind seized to brush through branches?

Do you remember when time froze to the moment of the day?

Do you remember how our words got arrested within our mouth

that only our eye sockets were the only thing that moved?

Do you remember how that neighbor had us

before "hello"?

for all we could do was to stare

and stay put at that very spot

reverie of open windows under her arms

light-footed at her every touch

forgetting the pleasantries to elders.

as they stand as rude awakens

to this fairytale of a dream

her, as the plus one to my smiles

and the world as the enemy neighbors to my heart

as the stand barricading the typhoons of emotions

toppling my mind.

Wilding Tongue

In a single ray of hope

His words plumed out the chest

Heavy to the heart

But now or never was the situation

As from seventh grade

He had kept them all in

Drowning at every sighting of her.

Her whispers being his secret joys

Yet havoc wrecking

That he was not the one

The one ploughing the heart to seventh highs

The one tossing her blankets in blunts of thoughts

The one running her wild in yearning of holdings

As she sought the Barton of finding her one.

So it was the last of the dance

Laced out in hurricanes pressure

As she was the Precious he sought for

And today, words had to spill on her.

"Would you be....

the sun on the horizon of day."

Trailing the atmosphere.

Viking Love Now

Welcome into my medieval mind

where we stand as barbaric in love

for we advocate lies

spitting truth only to furnish more lies

as our smiles stand as "sagas" on their own

for we endorsed frowns to cover our deeds

awarding certificates

to ones we conquer.

Viking on a pursuit

we voyage into the plains to find cities

and conquer hearts,

to see them pleading

mercy as a tale

we forget to revisit.

For we are!

Warriors without bounds.

Our homes as the crowns of war

behead in lies that bind

as we chase those who hide

assassinating their strength

to quench our yearning.

So! Welcome to my medieval mind

where evil is the power we hold

tormenting the souls

for we are warriors after love

and our saga is hard to tale.

*"No Cap!" It Hurts To Hate.*

I choose to be a perfect replica of pain.

As I dived hemad first

Only to catch myself bleeding

Maybe it was just my subconscious pleading

Cause,

I forgot

how it felt

When the dagger plunged deep

Or when I jumped onto retrograde train.

For backwards,

I saw time riding upon my soul

Cutting out on angels

Ready to deliver my smiles

Arming up with a pick

Straight into the devils mine

Hoping to find mine

A gem that was never mine.

For I altered my heart at the seam

Hoping to mend us

And caught a flight to cloud 9

Only to find myself chucked out of heaven before 9

Straight to the pavement splash

Where I choose to be the perfect replica of pain.

Wilding Love Thoughts

 "Please wait!"

She blunted from the ceiling

torn out of hope

as the day regressed to the nest

and time seemed to rush to an arrest

Her words began to escape

and shut down momentarily.

In splitting seconds to hours

The air tensed as he eyed her ferociously.

"But, How could you?"

The clips of the scene

rolling looped in his mind

strength sipping out at every clip roll.

As the incident ganged up on him

and thoughts hipped up

into a campfire.

His eyes continuously starred at the bed

now a stranger's corner.

Love! had tied a knot upon his soul.

His words were alien to himself.

She had become the sun,

her action blue as the sky

but her words a partly cloudy intention.

as it set alight his pile of thoughts

straight into a bonfire.

The Last Tangle

 I slept my heart into a storm.

And discover my soul torn to cause

as I begged for forgiven

but crickets were all that graced the air

while distant silence deafened the room.

Just like a dream

sleepwalked into

Reality had finally divorced the sun from day

and packed along with my heart

burying my soul while at it.