Fire Extinguishers , Jenga Blocks and the Apocalyptic Crush

•September 25, 2014 • Leave a Comment

It’s only a crush.
Yet the word defines
endless metaphors of cute gore
Whether they are the cliché
butterflies incinerating my stomach
(For which I would gladly gulp a fire extinguisher)
or I , the  melted Popsicle ,  the one you wont cry over .
Though now I am beginning to understand
The semantics of holding your hand
or the force field of your goodbyes
Crushes me , like wet concrete
underneath your feet ,
You have imprinted on me.

So forgive me if I wish to defy
The appeal of one plus one
Being solitary , my adjective
Which you have so elegantly knocked over
as if it were a poorly built Jenga block tower
Dragged to the level of silly similes
You are the apocalypse of me
I have allowed cheesy to encapsulate
Imagined countless scenarios
of parallel lines intersecting
I shouldn’t be acknowledging
your presence and absence
but it smashes me like a bullet train
or the bullet you are , cozy up in my brain
My composure now promoted to
most certifiably nuts.

So I tell myself , it is just a crush ,
A puddle
Then why do I feel like I’m drowning  ?

Bouquet above Bones

•September 24, 2014 • 3 Comments

Leave me love ,
Leave my body behind.
Watch my eyes drift shut this final time
While the birds mourn from the loss of my seeds
Let my soul evaporate as serenely as it may please
Could you remember me not as the woman with the noose
Or the one with an emptied bottle of pills ?
I’m aware that my reasons shall remain a mystery
Just know that life was a carcass inside of me
A mother would never leave behind her only son
But I could not drag him into the pain I had solely become
Remind him my love is being pumped by his heart
Hoping one day he’ll forgive me for these mental shards
Do visit my stories and a smile at my gravestone
My soul may have scarred, my porcelain bones
Bouquets will flourish above them , not weeds
of  cowardly pride
Promise me I won’t be just another suicide .

Easy – Unnecessary musings #1

•August 31, 2014 • 4 Comments

I wish it was this easy for most of us , to find someone of the opposite sex and go ,” Hey you ! Yeah , you ! Date me. “
But it’s not.

Especially when you’re a reader or a writer. Even if you’re not socially popular ,  you’ve already put yourself in the shoes of so many fictional characters with various personalities or written about the people inhabiting your mind. You can no longer define yourself as a single individual .
Would you like 2 cubes of adjectives in your tea ?  *Unladylike-snort* More like 15-20 would be delightful !

I always wonder what it would be like to just reveal yourself to someone. Do you just flip the hood of your car or do you take them for a ride ? ( No pun intended )
To open up to you would be like stripping the editing of a beautiful photo and revealing the raw form. Synonymous to presenting  a gold ore and fools gold and demanding an ultimatum.  I am unable to suppress the fear that you may most likely choose fools gold and I would be forced to refine myself by man made processes to be able to get your attention .Get my flow ?

And can I point out , that love is blind seems like bullshit ? True , if we are referring to platonic love , for instance the love of a mother for her child , looks are not taken into consideration. But what about love at first sight ? You didn’t know their personality beforehand ( Duh) and all you knew at that instant was the person’s appearance.
Also , if you’re into someone you must at some level be physically attracted to them , again pointing out that love , my WordPress peeps , is not blind. Hence Proved ?

Sigh .

Mythologies and Mundanes

•August 26, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Like Icarus , I am irrevocably drawn to you
An ineffable source poised amidst the blue
Your radiance chased away my shadowed sorrows
Instilled in me faith , your unlimited tomorrows
Desire soared to burn with your incandescence
So exquisite , we could be an entity of essence
To be able to hold you like vines that intertwine
Simply put , I wished to make you mine.

Like Orpheus , I would envelope you in serenades
Moonshine with music , soporific till you fade
I always regret my undoing of a stationary promise
Watched you disappear like the last sip of wine in my chalice
Eurydice , know that I will eternally search for you
Anxiously hoping your arrival to heaven is due
For you were my lens for epiphanies
Now my lyre only weeps cacophonies.

Like Lynceus , I would be gentle and considerate
Not all men are inculcated with ego and violence
Your purpose would not be solely to proliferate
Believe that I would worship you with reverence .
Hypermnestra , I beg of you to give me a chance
Without the hasty slash of metal murder
Allow my admiration to encase you in a trance
So we can some day take this relationship further.

Like Cupid , I betrayed to occupy the space beside you
Asking nothing of you but blind acceptance
Coveted us in black yet we were devoid of rue
Our superficial beauty should have been of no relevance .
However , cat-killed-curiosity marred your judgement
So I abandoned you in quick distress
Although misunderstandings are imminent
Psyche , never have I loved you any less.

Our story is analogous to Greek mythology
A 21st century version of sophisticated tragedy
Lacking the godliness and complimentary suicide
The infamous female envy or heinous male pride
We flourish in my Greek styled imagination
Though we aren’t beings of mythical creation
You and I , exist with an artistic vehemence
But unfortunately, never in the same sentence.

Dust Mote

•July 18, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Thats how you make me feel.
Flaunting your grandiose excellence
Eloquent critique but of no relevance
You desire to inhabit the level of skies
Us rooted trees grow but we dare not fly
Humility abandoned will result in regress
Skipping steps fragments the ladder of success
Lack of morals will propagate your comatose
Since you aren’t corrigible by poem or prose.


Thats what you make me believe
Your confidence a consumer of my insecurity
However I doubt the strength of your integrity
Lonely people , we’re less lonely than we think
Than those surrounded till a spill at the brink
We can dance the rivalry of the repartee
You crave an audience , essence of a celebrity
Placed yourself on a pedestal , its clear
The reality underneath your feet , you fear.


Thats what you think I am
You got the world believing you’re what they want
Little do they know , its all an inglorious front
Think out of the box so you make yours bigger
I incinerate mine , whose life is meager ?
Glitter is achieved even by fool’s gold
Instant gratification can make anyone bold
Give me a ray of sunshine and maybe
Ill let my dust motes show you beauty.

Body of Stars

•July 13, 2014 • 3 Comments

Based on Picture it and Write ! Check Ermilias blog at

Must we covet superficial beauty
They’re soul wrappers , dear girl
Don’t let society tell you otherwise
Appearances are irrelevant
when you are created from star dust.


Know that your body and soul
May be amalgamated
They are not the same moiety
We do not owe the world our bodies
Then why catabolize our souls ?


We are not personified fruit baskets
Dont be an apple, a pear, an orange
Be a woman throughout
BMI is just numbers , since when
did we become such devotees of Math ?


Too flat , too curvy , too skinny , too fat
National Geography doesn’t want you back
Cause you’re not a plateau , a mountain or a plain
Thigh gaps and beach bellies
are for Barbies and Kens.


Next time people tell you to lose weight
Tell them ,”Lose your character”
Your body’s just asking for your acceptance
Neither do you need silicon breasts
nor your face a botox uplift.


We aren’t only skin and bones
We have a miniature core of stars
Our minds, magical mysteries ,so the world
picks on the physical flaws
Because it cant handle our souls perfection.

Bleeding ink

•July 6, 2014 • 4 Comments

Us writers , we bleed ink
It pours through our fingertips
Staining our nails , imprinting your minds
Call us incongruous , label us cowards
Unable to put forth our voices
So we exploit our vocabulary
To minimize the supremacy
Of unthought spoken words.


Call it therapy if you must
Our anger in contemptuous epilogues
Contentment in the simplest rhymes
Affection among corky metaphors
Wrist cuts equal sad synonyms
Tears unpredictable like free verses
Our language a collection of conflicting emotions.


Words are cheap and so are we
If we underestimate those who can write
Infuriate us and we can expose you
Destroy you with your personal demons
Or worse , compress letters to reveal the real you
You won’t be able to escape yourself
When your mind is inhabited by someone else .


We cannot begin to explain the possibilites in our worlds
Unravel our thoughts , imagination unfurls
Notions blow like crackers on the 4th of July
Can you try to understand what our heads must be like ?
We are not examples of an individual
We are an aggregation of fragmented people
Stitched together to portray
What social network conversations cannot say .


Us writers , we bleed like everybody else
Coping mechanism
Unlike the wine on your shelf
The pills on your bed
Or the razor blade on your sink
We’re bleeding ink
And even when we bleed
We make sure its beautiful.

Highest Form of Whit

Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, but the highest form of intelligence: welcome to the Highest Form of Whit


A little about everything, a lot about nothing.

a sort of romance

a mistake in true love

Halcyon Phoenix

Words were her plague, Words were her redemption

Diwata In Lalaland

Exploration.... Poetic Expressions


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 942 other followers

%d bloggers like this: