Joaquin Zihuatanejo - "Final Exam for My Father"

This. 

This has broken me in more ways than one and sewn back all my pieces together again in a painful yet utterly beautiful way. I don't only mean this because I can relate to the poet, but I can feel his passion, his emotions, his pain, and they have all seeped into my bones and suck the marrow out of me but at the same time, brought me back to life. I was a leaky faucet at the first few lines but then the tears just started spilling uncontrollably. I couldn't help them. They were a testament to all the things I've been hiding from people. This is the most inspiring video I have seen in a long while and I can only wish that I had the guts and the talent to do this as well.

Ugh, beautiful human beings.

"10) I do not love you anymore." 

1) Today, I woke up at 4:17 a.m, 43 minutes earlier than I should have.
2) I spent those 43 minutes staring at darkness and trying not to think about you.
3) I failed. You infiltrated my thoughts like poison.
4) I quietly padded to my bathroom and tried to wash away the pain of yesterday.
5) Sadly, cold water couldn’t soothe the fire in my veins and it couldn’t stop my boiling anger.
6) I ate your words and drank silence for breakfast.
7) I went to school with an empty stomach and an even emptier heart.
8) I have come to a conclusion. The first half of the conclusion is that I do not love you any less.
9) The second half is the title of this poem.

♕

 I'm still writing poems for you.

Untitled

I want to go to poetry readings someday and listen to lovely people read their lovely poems out loud and for people to hear mine as well. As of the moment though, this is all I'm capable of. 

{text is under the jump break}

i am free to write the worst junk in the world,
i am free to write without destination.
i am free to write the saddest lines,
i am free to write about the things that make me happy.
i am free to write for myself,
i am free to slip poems into my friends’ pockets.
i am free to use clichés,
i am free to step out of my comfort zone.
(every week i lose two to three pens)
i am free to lose pens,
i am free to cry over losing pens.
i am free to be melodramatic,
i am free to judge myself for exaggerating.
i am free to keep everything inside,
i am free to let loose.
i am free to act childish,
i am free to act my age.
i am free to think for myself,
i am free to ponder over the thoughts and opinions of others.
i am free to scoff at religion,
i am free to believe in something greater than me
(greater than life itself).
i am free to make my own decisions,
i am free to be indecisive.
i am free to see, hear, touch, taste, feel, think, love, love, love.
i am free to be human.
i am free yet somehow, i still feel trapped.

chryss s., "invisible bonds"

This one’s for the girls
who fumble with words when they talk
so they choose to write instead
because they are awkward when they speak
but passionate when handed pen and paper.
This one’s for the girls
who spent their time reading books
instead of playing with dolls,
for the girls who read under the covers
way past lights out
just to finish a chapter,
just for their eyes to be strained,
just to be left hanging,
just to feel a surge of relief,
just to lose themselves in a world beyond their reach.
This one’s for the girls
who grew up watching the two people who swore before the altar to love each other unconditionally
fight and make each other cry,
for the girls
who grew used to doors slamming,
to their mothers weeping,
to their fathers coming home during ungodly hours,
to forced smiles and suffocating hugs and no more stolen kisses.
This one’s for the girls
who endured it all
who never gave up even though they had reasons to surrender,
for the girls who chose to make lemonade
instead of making sour faces.
This one’s for the girls
who’ve never been in a relationship
but have had their hearts broken in more ways than one
by the people they care for and love most.
This one’s for the girls
who cry over petty things
like stray kittens
and empty promises
and last episodes
and the Pacific Ocean
and no more banana milk.
This one’s for the girls
who have turned themselves inside and out
hoping to find even just a little piece of beauty
jutting out from the ugliness that they shroud themselves in.
This one’s for the girls
with a plethora of emotions and feelings
both wanted and unwanted
both kept and unhidden
both wanting to fly high into the sky and sink into the deepest layers of the earth.
This one’s for the girls
who are hopeful but doubtful
who are strong yet weak
who are lethargic but driven
who are proud yet meek.
This one’s for the girls
who are splitting at the seams with dreams
but are being put down by the burdensome weight of reality
and have yet to wake up from their reverie.
I am no special snowflake,
so this goes out to all the girls
who are just like me.

Audio Recorded Poem #1

This is a first and I am scared but I hope you guys like it.

There is this Icelandic word skúffuskáld, which means someone who’s secretly a poet. It literally means “drawer poet”, someone who writes poetry but chugs it all into his desk drawer instead of showing it to people.

today
i stepped on Yixing's tail
and the little kitten hissed at me
but i still cuddled it in my arms
and whispered,
"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry."

i have a friend
who's broken promises
and the tie that knots the both of us
is becoming loose
and i'm a bit tired of trying to hold on
because i'm afraid she's tired as well
though i never want to let go.

my mom is always screaming obscenities
and painting the walls with anger
sometimes i'm her canvas
and i drip with black and white and red paint
my soul monochromatic
my heart bleeding.
but every night before i go to sleep
i pray for her
despite my doubts
despite my lack of faith
despite my hurting.

i still think about my father often
even though i know i shouldn't
because he's the cause of all of these
of all these bottled-up secrets
and this bottled-up pain
of this half-buried treasure
but he's also half the reason
why i managed to open a chest full of happiness
that i didn't have to hunt for.

life
has always been a source of distress
of sorrow
of agony
of hurting
but i'm happy to know
that life
is also the source of all things good
and sometimes,
we just need to see through all the bad stuff
to get us going.
positivity is key.

I've got gaps though.

it's 3am on the first day of 2013
and i have this sudden longing in my chest
this is the 3rd year in a row
that i did not get to pick fireworks with you
and bring home a full roasted pig biting on an apple
while i bite on the burger you ordered from McDonald's
when i told you i was hungry
i remember when you used to fire gunshots
to signal the new year
and i would slip quietly into my bedroom out of fear
i always thought that the stray bullets you shoot at the sky
would fall like shooting stars that might hit innocent bystanders
you simply chuckled at me and said, "silly girl"
but when you see the worry that does not subside from my eyes
you keep the loaded gun in your pocket
and won't fire any more
i lit up sparklers tonight because you were no longer there
to light firecrackers and fill the streets with explosions
i remember when you used to buy boxes of those little dynamites
you liked blowing things up, didn't you?
and i was always by your side whenever you did

they always tell me i'm your favorite
am i really?
i remember when you used to make riceballs with me
and took me out to japanese restaurants during my anime phase
and the way you laughed heartily at my hysterical response
when you bought me my first Korean pop album
i remember that time you ran with me out on the streets at 8pm
both of us dripping wet from the summer rain
because i told you it would be fun and you agreed
saying you had nothing better to do
i remember when you used to sing Billy Joel songs
at the top of your voice during car rides
and i would cringe at your horrible voice
and you would pretend to be mad but your eyes say otherwise
i remember when you would bring home chocolates
even though mom was against it
you taught me to love sweets
and you taught me to love you

i remember a time when i loved you more than mom
when i thought you were the greatest dad in the whole world
until i found out that you loved someone else
more than you loved mom
and that's when everything changed
that's when things began to break apart

happy new year, papa

.

Today, I am going to the dentist
to fill the gaps in my teeth.
I only know of one person
who can fill the gaps in my heart
and he doesn't know I exist.

Someone once asked me
"What's the saddest poem you've ever written?"
And I replied with,
"I don't know, how do you know whether a poem's sad or not?"
And our conversation ended at that.
But now that I think about it,
I think what's gonna follow after this
might just hit home.

She tells herself all the time
that she's pretty, kind and smart
only because no one else will.

Keep your chin up high, dearie
taste the stars if you want.

121912

whenever i think of the 1950s
the scenes in my head are in black and white
whenever i think of the 1980s
it's all bright colors and loud clothes
but whenever i think of now
all i see in my mind are dull, gray tones
and i think i know why.

they say we're all going to die in 2 days
and i think most of us already have.

i.

i wanted to paint the world with my thoughts
but was soon discouraged by the monochromatic minds
of people who were too bound by the norms of society
to appreciate the beautiful madness
this ugly world has to offer.

"fuck you all" i said to them in my colorful language
and they never said anything back
just whispered among themselves,
"this girl's disturbed"
and maybe i am, maybe i'm not
but at least i know what it feels like
to be comfortable in my own skin.

my bones know me
and the blood that gushes forth in my veins
accept me for who i am.
in the meantime,
that's all i need.
not your scrutinizing looks,
not your presumtions
and certainly not your sympathy.

never your sympathy

.

i am the frost on your window,
the cry of a young wolf,
the thin blade of grass you just passed by.
i am the wind that caresses your cheeks,
the sweat that trickles down the nape of your neck,
the cold that embraces you during lights out.
i am the soft earth you trample your feet on,
the deep well in the forest you got lost in,
the path you followed that led to nowhere.
i am the stars in the midnight sky,
the languid clouds on a summer afternoon,
the drippy symphony of the crickets.
i am the white-picket fence,
the rusty old gate,
the creak you hear when open the cedar door.
i am the sigh that escapes your lips,
your early morning breaths,
the unfinished sentence you struggle to let out.
i am the scrawls on your notebook,
the dirt on your fingertips,
the paint stains on your shirt.
i am your cup of Sunday morning coffee,
the sluggishness of Monday noon,
the cool Tuesday evening dew.
i am the the lightning streaks you fear,
the ocean you once almost drowned in,
the broken china you dropped when you received news of your mother’s death.
i am the blood that rushes to your cheeks,
the smell of rain on damp earth,
the tinkling of chimes during an airy day.
i am the cat that jumped on your roof,
the worn-out pages of your favorite book,
the poems you keep in your drawer.
i am the voice inside your head
telling you things i am not
for in reality
i am not a lot of things
and these words mean nothing.
i can never compare to the beauty of life that surrounds you.
i am not a lot of things.
i am not loved and i am not yours.
and it makes me want to be a lot of things i am not
because you are beautiful
and i am just sad.

Today I woke up wanting to cry

So I rode my bike out to the river

But upon my arrival there

I just sat on the grass and sighed

The water looked so inviting

And the wind was burning my cheeks

All thoughts and intentions of crying

Left my mind, vulnerable and weak

For the peace and tranquility that I felt

Looking up at the clouds and infinity

My heart and eyes refused to melt

How could I, when sprawled before me was beauty

So I stood up and hugged the world

Got a few stares here and there

But my sanity's my responsibility

And I doubt they even care

Suddenly the wind whispered to me,

"Where do you want to go, lass? Where?"

I thought of a thousand places, but

I looked up at the sky and said firmly, "Up there."

So I rode the soft wind to eternity

Though in reality I drowned

I began to slowly lose myself

Until I fell asleep on my deathbed and no more did I hear a single sound.

Suicide's Note by Langston Hughes

The cool,

Calm face of the river

Asked me for a kiss.

You, me, and skinny alleys

These pavements filled with malice

Let's set the streets on fire

Burn them with our desire

You, me, and skinny alleys

Hidden from the rest of the world

Even the stray cats pay no notice to our footfalls

We're a secret between these paint-peeled walls

You, me, and skinny alleys

Home of the reckless and the brave

Our hearts running wild and our minds going mad

Between these skinny alleys, you're my only lad

Between these skinny alleys, you're my only lad
Between these skinny alleys, you're my only ballad

for Pia

Come on, little dearie

Don't be afraid

You've got wings in your spine

And a name to be made

Come on, little dearie

Don't be insecure

Their words mean nothing

Self-confidence is the cure

Come on, little dearie

You're worth more than what they say

Be strong in your struggles

All the rough tides coming your way

If they intend to break you down

Just keep your chin up high

Don't let them see you drown

It's a cruel world, it's okay to cry

But you're beautiful when you smile

And in just a short while

You'll find out the sky's not the limit

For you'll know what it takes to be young and infinite

Go on, take the plunge

Taste the stars if you want