|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Wake up loveHush now,
I'm sorry the dream must end.
It's time to wake up
and face the world.
Reality is harsh,
the people are cold,
that's how it is
and you must wake up.
For you have been asleep long enough.
Time to wake love,
and be with your people
they wait for you
and have never given up.
You can't let them down.
The alarm's going off,
and reality is waiting.
You are only human
and cannot do much
but everyone is important
and life is waiting just for you.
Can you hear their cries?
And the bellows of pain?
You can stop them
but only if you wake up.
It's time to wake up love,
and face the world.
They cry for your return
and you can't let them down.
I'm a PoetI'm a poet.
And because I'm a poet,
I have the pride of a poet,
and the background of an artist.
Yes as a poet.
I am overlooked in the group
for the work that is drawn,
and the art that is colored by the painters
I am a writer
and though my words hold power
they are seen as nothing more than words
and never get brought to their original intent
I am a writer
whose every move is watched
whose art is critiqued harsher than others
who's still unknown as an artist
I am an author,
who wears my heart on my sleeve
who leaves everything bare to judgment
who never asks for more than is due
I am an artist,
but I don't always get treated as such
I no longer rule the worldSeems I no longer rule the world,
grains of life slipping through
the end of the time approaching
power, unable to suppress it.
When the world needed a ruler
they turned to me and shouted 'him!'
but there was no surcease of wars
and the famine stayed in place.
And during disease and death
the people turned and said
'he was meant to cure us!'
though king I never was true.
They strung me up
and gathered the tolls
dragged me through the nation
with screams of blood on their lips.
Though I begged
my crimes bared too much sin
for when it came to society
I didn't save the world.
The floor caved in,
the rope grew taught,
my struggles heard around
till the silence reigned down.
But then the pointed
and screamed 'he will lead'
at the man who took my life
and I was left on the gallows alone.
For I no longer rule the world
and the dirt eats up my soul
the grains of time and age
make for one grievous grave.
Ice Cold LipsHer cold lips
pink in nature
but cold underneath.
There's no life
in those two strips of flesh.
The rest of her is hot,
but her lips are always ice.
Delilah, do you love me?
Of course I do.
Her eyes are just as cold
as her cold dead lips.
Delilah, do you love me?
...yes, I do
Her hands leave hot trails down my back
but her lips leave frost on my skin.
Delilah, do you love me?
and her cold dead lips
touched my own.
The Wishing TreeTraveling along a concrete road
until the pavement turned to grass
and the grass turned to dirt.
Just when the land turned barren and bland
an abandoned park stood rusty and proud.
Little Jessica walked along that dirt path
not minding the hot sun
or how her backpack got heavier with every step.
When she finally reached
that abandoned park
Little Jessica played in the slide
and swung on the swings
that creaked with every rock.
She bored soon and left
that barren park
going to the one sign of life
A sorrowful tree, with no leaves left
stood near that abandoned park.
Little Jessica, feet scuffing the dirt
went to this poor alone tree.
From her backpack, Little Jessica
pulled paper upon paper out.
With bits of string and tiny fingers
Little Jessica attached every single strip of paper
to the branches of that leafless tree
as high and far as she could reach
until the dry branches could no longer be seen.
When she was done
Little Jessica surveyed her work,
proud of the job
AtticI went through the attic today
just to see the memories that lie.
Inside a box there was nothing
but cobwebs and fickle dust.
Yet in a corner of the room
there is the most beautiful memory,
photo albums of love
and presents from trips long ago.
I do not have to read the letters of love
for their words have long since been memorized.
A little stuffed lion
won at the circus,
shall sit in my lap
and remember along with me.
Never stitched in love this lion was,
but love was what it was meant to feel.
So as I sit and look,
from albums of old,
and presents from trips,
and letters of love,
and my lion in my lap,
I cry happy tears
at the memories that have passed.
'Darling, come downstairs!'
I can almost hear your voice shout below.
'Dear! You are never going to believe
the memories that I just unearthed.
Let's look together, and relive the old
and maybe then my tears for memories past
can become tears for something new.'
Sunflower KissesSunflower kisses dance across my skin
laying down in a field of wheat in the afternoon.
You appear almost out of nowhere
and lay down next to me as you were meant to be.
The sun hurts my eyes,
as I squint at the clouds and try to make shapes.
You stare at me and I try to think,
yet the more you stare the harder it is to ignore.
Do you want the sun?
Ya, the sun.
Everyone gives the moon as a gift,
but to me, the only thing that can rival your charm
is the suns great shine,
and even then when you emerge outside
the suns grows dark and burnt.
You never were a poet
I couldn't help but laugh
at how long you probably spent
thinking of that one line.
I like the sun.
Then I'll wrangle the sun,
all for you.
We laid in the suns warmth
of sunflower kisses
and the tickles of wheat instead of grass
and nothing else mattered in the world.
I love you.
I love you too.
May you rest in peaceYou're gone now and away,
sleeping silently somewhere else
never speaking and always silent.
If we had talked more,
would you still be here
lying next to me in bed?
To bring you back,
I would walk five thousand miles
just like in that song that you love.
But you'll never hear music again
and we'll all be here still
just moving here through life.
And no one gets to see your smile
while your families mourns their loss
and all we have are memories.
To bring you back
I would happily take your place
in the land of the never living.
Because you're being missed,
and no one knows,
what they're going to do without you.
Sleeping silent mourning
the sun never seen again
Lovely AnneI once met a girl named Anne
and what a lovely girl was she.
She sat in corners and talked
and talked when no one listened.
While lovely Anne was so lovely
no one went near lovely Anne
and her never-ending talking.
Lovely Anne with black hair
and dark skin. Never listened
to the voice of society.
Lovely Anne talked of a world
so unlike our own.
No one went near her,
but everyone listened
to the thoughts of a wonderful world.
Lovely Anne lived in a world
where the clocks struck thirteen
where everyone loved
where everyone smiled
and tears were never shed.
The walls and floors
objects and papers
that she talked to day and night
held to her words
and wished for her world.
Poor Lovely Anne had no friends.
But lived in a world that was entirely her own.
Lovely Anne who never left her world
and thought reality was imaginary.
Goodbye lullabyWith our heart in a fierce beat ,
We'll dance together on the empty street.
With your shallow breathing against my head,
We'll sway along to words unsaid.
When you look in my eye,
I know, it's time to say goodbye,
But will you grant me one last wish?
To Hold me in your arms,
And Sing me a sweet lullaby,
To let me drown in your melodic voice for one last time,
And Let me dream of a place where you are mine.
To let the tune wash away my pain,
For I want to relive that moment once again,
When you and I first met each other
And to prove to myself, that there can be no another,
Who could ever take your place.
And our moments spent together,
I'd do anything to retrace.
Broken MirrorI am not,
What you see,
Although you may indeed,
Choose not to believe
I am a fabrication,
Built to make you smile,
So you don't know that I lie
I am not,
As strong as I seem,
And it is not laughter,
That in my eyes gleams
I am a tale of woe,
And one of sorrow,
So weak that I can't lead,
I can only follow
I am not as whole,
On the inside as out,
I am full of misery,
And so full of doubt
I am nothing more than illusion,
A master of it, I am,
I hope that you don't notice,
I don't expect you to understand
Pieces, big ones and small,
Force me to my knees,
Again and again,
Force me to crawl
Lurk underneath my surface,
Making me feel incomplete,
Making me feel worthless
The silver sheen which covers,
Hides my secrets within,
Keeps from you my shame,
Keeps from you my sin
But, if you look closer,
And come nearer,
You will find I am nothing more,
Than a stained and broken mirror
jlp June 1, 2009
What I Meant.*Accidentally bumps into you*
-What I said-
Oh, I’m so sorry..!
-What I meant-
I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand
Cause even though I do the very best that I can
I can’t face this world alone
There’s too much I don’t understand
*Accidentally holds your hand*
-What I said-
Is everything alright?
-What I meant-
What should I do if I can’t tell between
The reality of life or if it’s just a dream?
I can tell the world is real enough
It’s just not as pretty as it seems
*Accidentally hugs you*
-What I said-
Are you okay?
-What I meant-
I guess I never wanted to believe
That something I helped create
That I thought was more than beautiful
Could be so capable of hate
*Accidentally kisses you*
-What I meant to say instead-
So prove me wrong
And say it’s not too late
Or too bad, or no good and that
There’s still room for one more clean slate
Because another se
They Watch UsThey Watch Us:
Perched high upon the mountains;
With wings as black as night.
They watch us in the hour,
Before darkness turns to light.
I've seen them in my visions;
In dreams they come and go,
But the things they seem to tell me
I guess nobody should know...
I've seen children that are buried,
Beneath a frozen lake.
A maiden sits there weeping;
Her heart is soon to break.
The crows flutter downward,
A noose amongst their hands.
They take the maiden away,
To a dark and distant land.
And even if I follow -
Even if I try...
I'll simply end up buried,
Where the frozen children lie.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 10th November 2012
to the end of the earthif you should die
before the right time
i would hope the world
would stop spinning
and start crumbling away
until gravity was nonexistent
and i would run to the edge
until my feet lifted off the ground
and i was united with you once more
Coming BackYou looked at me with sunset eyes
Teeming with an ocean’s depth
Waves were crashing down your cheeks
Tears you should have never wept
And I heard a sound I’ll not forget
The slamming front door as you left
In shock I waited as tragedy unfurled
Denial settled into the silence of my world
Without a glance or shallow sigh
You left me here with no goodbye
But in my heart there grew an ache
A pain that, most nights, keeps me awake
And now I finally realize
What I saw in those shining eyes
Not the sunset; the sunrise
So this was never a goodbye
This was letting go.
And now I’m coming back.
Letting Go of YouLetting Go of You:
You abandoned me in the past
without so much as a proper goodbye
One day you simply chose to walk out the door
and you never did come back...
I was angry then, hurting badly
I wondered if I was in some way inadequate
I wondered if you left because I am so easy to despise
and eventually my sorrow turned to anger
I wanted to become great
to show you that you made the wrong choice
to take my strength and throw it in your face
just so you would regret it
But then I saw how happy you were...
In the time we've been apart
You've made a new life for yourself
You've found someone who loves and treasures you
and upon seeing that, my anger faded...
Your smile, that which I fell in love with
is more radiant now than the morning sun
a gentle blush upon your fair cheeks
takes my breath away, just as it did so long ago
Of course, I don't hold any hope for us to be friends
I don't think that it would be appropriate for me to come back
but perhaps one day, if
EchoesBy some amazing cosmic chain of events, humans are priveleged with thought
but we make sure to kill as much of that as we can early on,
so all that's left is an aimless concentration of emotion and confusion,
and we're completely ignorant of what caused it.
our inability to face up to our own meaninglessness-
it's beautiful, actually, if people would just give it credit-
and our subsequent coping devices
and tradition (fuck you)
anything that will pat a person on the head
and say "don't worry, we have the answers"
These things, they mutilate everything beautiful and sacred about the mind and soul.
We condone all of this; resign ourselves to it; forget about it;
not realizing that we're
any chance we had for true thought and feeling, we're
our time, we're
and we just smile and say "six o'clock again ALREADY?"
It makes me
to think that in a couple of minutes, I,
just like everyone else,
am going to, fumi
Frantically he scrambles away from the dark
Eager to be free of his waking nightmare
Acting only upon the instinct within him;
Reminded constantly that he is prey
For some time he hides in the pervasive shadows
Earnestly praying that he will not be discovered
A single sound is all it takes to jar him;
Running from a creature that he can barely see
From head to toe it is certainly monstrous
Enshrouded in an aura of absolute repugnance
As the acid drips from its cruel jaws,
Rapidly dissolving the ground below
Fearful, he cowers, beneath boxes and cardboard,
Escaping away into a tiny corner of his mind
Alone with only his anxiety for company
Resting for what might be his very last
From birth, Ever-present, Always Remembered
such is the nature of FEAR
Writing poetry again Doctor Cecil? That's good!
You'll need a hobby to be working in an environment like this
-Chen Yuan Wen, 9th October 2012
Letter to the WorldA note in a bottle,
a message for the world.
'If I scream as loud as I could,
would you be able to hear me?
Thrown into the ocean
for the sea to swallow
the single sentence.
As the sea swallows its prize
she lets out a horrible hollow cry
for the world to hear.
The world does nothing
but capture her scream
and store it for later
when it asks why she cries
and why she hurts.
For if she screams as loud as she could
would the world listen?
Or is it just a message in a bottle
meant to be swallowed by the sea?
Keep in Touch!