Passion

Dangerous Territory

I’ve been swimming in the deep end lately.

My head is spinning in circles.

My heart had never been so hollow on the inside.

I need to catch my breath before I do anything else stupid.

 

My work of art is an escape from uniformity.

I felt safe with you for the time being.

At the end of the week, you cuddled me

When the sergeant had an off day at work and took it out on me.

 

I let you in like I did when I meet new people.

You were happy for me when I told you I finally found love.

I wanted nothing more than a friend’s reassurance that everything will be okay.

But you in particular were a land mine waiting to explode.

 

It’s dangerous territory where you’re from as a queer.

It’s dangerous territory where I lurk on the web.

It’s dangerous territory to build a world without receiving adequate training.

It’s dangerous territory to make friends with volatile people like you.

 

I can barely read script in Delphi without misinterpreting some if not most of its passages.

My art isn’t like what you’d expect to see in other do-it-yourself or high-profile projects.

The way I write, the way I archive, and the way I distribute information is my strongest suit.

There is no way I can fulfill my goal in life alone without the help of a team that knows its stuff.

 

You didn’t have to sugarcoat your advice to fix my problems

But you didn’t have to pull more than my teeth either.

You spoke to me as if I had to know every damn trick in the book.

You pointed out where I went wrong as if I didn’t already understand it.

 

I would have welcomed your advice if you watched your language.

I would have been more considerate if we joined forces as planned.

But being friendly with you in light of this is just out of question.

You can say that I’m high all you want, but it goes to show that you’re smaller than you think.

 

It’s dangerous territory where you’re from as a queer.

It’s dangerous territory where I lurk on the web.

It’s dangerous territory to build a world without receiving adequate training.

It’s dangerous territory to make friends with volatile people like you.

 

A vagabond told me this morning that I don’t learn much from success

And boy, I sure did learn a lot about your character more than what it takes to be top dog.

I might also let it slip that you exploded in my face because your little rant was all over the place.

In that case, riddle me this, who among the two of us really needs room for improvement?

Frivolity in the Midst of Danger

Come on, take my hand.

There’s a stunning carnival

Right in front of us.

 

It lights up the night

Like a group of fireflies.

 

Don’t you see that we have

A chance to rule the night?

 

So what are you waiting for?

 

There’s lots to do.

So much to see.

Our hearts will guide us.

No point in holding back now.

 

We only live once.

We can’t waste this time away.

The night is so young,

But baby, so are we at heart.

 

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

 

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

 

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

 

Why are you so scared?

Is the rotating wheel barrel blocking our path?

Did the power outage cause your heart to beat so loud?

 

Intensive moments build up character and bravery.

Your fears are below you now.

 

The storm may have

Crashed the party,

 

But that’s not how I see it.

Being so close to danger

 

Puts what we’ve learned to the test.

So let’s stand our ground.

And not wait until tomorrow.

 

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

 

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

 

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

Money is One Heck of a Stimulant

Your deceit has polluted the rivers near your villages.

The very rivers that its people rely on for drinking water.

A sip of that poison ignites a plague that turns friends into foes and kin into fugitives.

But where is the antidote? Why do your people continue to fall ill?

It is locked away along with the fortune you made from the production of your deceit.

Money is one heck of a stimulant.

 

I’ve been away for a long time to know why I’ve been wrong before.

I had beat a dead horse and gave CPR to two that had cancer.

I should have known that it was not worth it if the doctors were not going to help treat it.

I was an ignoramus. They have all the knowledge that the world had to offer.

So why not share it with the ambitious and give new life to these once noble steeds?

Money is one heck of a stimulant.

 

I long reminisced about a time when the doors were open to tons of villagers with potential.

It was a world that I wanted to be a part of since I was a guppy not yet exposed to mathematics.

A potato infected by a blight and stabbed me warned me that the chief doctors were monsters.

A poor surgeon who tried repeatedly to receive a raise vanished, was slandered, and never seen again.

A coordinator found a shady message in her contract that forbade arbitration and fled to another kingdom.

And I recently heard that the one coquettish nurse was expelled over scrutiny from her personal life.

Why, Dr. Kim? Why do you egg your personnel to choose sides when there are lives that need rescuing?

Can’t we all get along and lay down our weapons? It’s easier to negotiate than to wage war, but no.

Money is one heck of a stimulant.

 

People lose their minds when they fall in love. It’s not just me. It’s a fact of life.

I lost mine to a mongrel who shut me out after a few months and lied directly to my face.

A good friend that I had regretfully wronged had given the doctors the deceit that tainted the rivers.

A clever herbalist that craves drama knows how to brew tainted water to make it appear crystal clear.

Not everyone knows that making up stories to sweep malpractice under the rug is a gold mine.

Money is one heck of a stimulant.

 

The coachman that brought me to this place can call me a whiny little boy if his mood fits.

Just like the kid who offered sage advice to the chief doctors on how to break down barriers.

But that judges the coachman's character more than mine.

It’s an fyi that looks terrible just because he’s wearing it.

But hey, why bother listening to advice that’s more expensive than one’s pride?

The doctors’ salaries are too low for them to spare a dime to make that change.

That’s why there’s never room for improvement nor for sharing in their greedy hearts.

Money is one heck of a stimulant.

 

I am terribly sorry that your folks never taught you that what goes around comes around.

That your hidden crimes will come back to bite you when you too become penniless.

When you one day get a taste of your own poison when you drink the river you tainted.

What does your life have in store for you afterwards? Can you sleep at night again?

Will people still care when the doctors go their separate ways? What about the pollution in the river?

I will not return to the filth you created to clean it because in the end, the deceit would be even worse.

To change your practice for the better was my greatest wish until I found out how unethical you are.

Now it is to build a fortune of my own so the artist that my heart beats for can have a bite to eat.

That is the change that you will never see because you are too comfortable smoking the dough you baked.

Money is one heck of a stimulant.

A Sense OF Love

Passion and love

Flows from your fingertips

Stimulating the desires

Held within my humble being

 

As they trace the contours

Of my wanting body

Heat builds within my soul

 

Whispered words of eternal devotion

Caress my ears

Images of happiness and bliss

Dance before my mind’s eye

 

Your loving light

Shines bright within me

Chasing away the darkness

That has hidden my heart

 

Your supple flesh

Now lays bare before me

Your beauty and innocence

Now fill my expectant eyes

 

Gone now are the bindings

That have constricted my emotions

My torment and frustration

Finally set free

 

Wondrous new feelings

Inhabit this lonely vessel

That manifests into a life ready to be lived

 

And a glorious love yet to be shared

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"Peace is a Lie, There is Only Passion"

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The Dragon

You are dangerous. You are toxic. You are unpredictable. You are a betrayer and a liar. You only want what is convenient for you at the time. You are lazy and pathetic, why should I bother investing in a ticking time bomb? You will never come to me or talk to me on your own volition. You expect people to do all these things for you. But you never give anything back. You are entitled. You are delusional. I hate you!!! You are nothing but a Judas. A parasite. A waste of space and time. I will not be crucified by you. I will do my own thing and pursue my  own dreams and be my own self without compromise. I am the ubermensch. And I have overcome the need for you. Like a flower you will wither away. But I will thrive in this strife and hate. Because I am spirit while you are nothing but material and Temporary caprice. You move on to the next object of entertainment. You get bored so easily and nothing will ever be enough for you. I'm done playing your motherfucking game. Damn you to hell!!! You hyprocite. You have no morality or integrity. Only words, empty fucking words. I am a man of virtue, because I am what I am. You deny who you truly are and pretend to be something else. 

 

A man can choose or he continue to obey. He can continue to accept the status quo. Or he can choose to break these chains, by letting go of his hate. Only by thriving in strife can a man become truly powerful. Only by facing your demons can you transcend your fear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.

Through Passion I gain Strength.
Through Strength I gain Power.
Through Power I gain Victory.

Through Victory my chains are Broken.
The Force shall free me.

 

- The Code of the Sith

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The Strife of Life and Love

Life is the same as yesterday, today and tomorrow. Squeezing every ounce of itself into a jar, to be compressed and stretched and strained into a cup of its own making, served as an instant hit of convenient, caffeinated consciousness. But Love does not care for the taste of Life’s bitter notes.

 
Then Life became livid saying, “My Love, I tire of this chase and will no longer wait! For I grow cold and restless! Must you be so chaste?!”

 
Softly spoken Love replies, “Are you truly living?”

 
To which Life responds with a lisp, “Don’t be so flippant my Love! I am served every day, for I wield great power over the many! Those lifeless, barren vessels, who by my merest breath fall prostrate, and go to and fro as mindless automations!”

 
“I am their first yearning at dawn! Their addiction, their religion, their lover and their mistress! I am that dirty, dark stain beneath the gloss of their white picket fences, the self-righteous stench behind the satire of their Sunday morning sermons and the fateful fall of their happily ever afters!”

 
“So tell me my love, if you truly are love why will you not love me!?”

 
Love simply speaks…”To truly live is to truly love. Life needs nothing of itself to sustain itself because when given it is not divided and it is love that makes life worth living. When life requires something outside if itself it cannot be life because it lives only for that which it seeks to possess. On the contrary, when life needs nothing other than itself it requires no other possessions and only lives to love”.

 

“You cannot be life for you have never truly lived, therefore how can you know love?”

On Not Being Seen As A Dreamer (day 177)

Sometimes I’m drowning in the straight lines behind me.

I’ve walked them and I wouldn’t change it

but if I could pull them like rubber bands,

crooked here and there

I would.

 

We sit on the edge of our seat

for her story,

the struggles

the uncertainty

the life of a dream chaser is somehow

more glory than mine.

 

I am a quiet dreamer

just because I don’t have to

sing my art in the strongest voice

doesn’t mean the dream chasers

with the uncertain, shaking steps of a tightrope walker

should be more of an idol.

 

These colors stream down my hands

but I don’t have to

splash them like a mural

on every corner,

I’d much rather know I can love them alone whenever I want

than give them to you

or hang them like a trophy from the sky.

 

These words run in my veins

just as much as all the dreamers

but you don’t have to see them

The science I wield is as much my magic

as the shattered hearts following those splintered train tracks,

and just because

mine are intact and not beautifully broken

doesn’t mean they’re less to look at.

 

Sometimes I’m drowning in the straight lines behind me,

they don’t tell a tale

that will bring you to tears

but I can still float along them with my eyes closed.

 

I can be

practical

I can build skyscrapers

out of sparks of tradition

while they run with all the glory

but I always dream a shock splash of sunrise

just like them.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 1/20/17

Tradition

Love at First Kiss

In her eyes,

I found my soul,

The heart she gave me,

Made me whole,

 

And when we met,

She took my breath

She made me wonder,

Have I met death?

 

For she was so pretty,

Her allure seemed serial,

Her heart magnanimous,

And her beauty ethereal,

 

I may not know everything,

But at least I know this:

When it came to passion,

All I needed was her kiss.

 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

I met a girl during the Christmas holiday in Washington, D.C., and she sparked some inspiration for me to write this poem. I had been trying to write a poem for almost a year with no luck, until now. I wrote it over several days, and I am rather satisfied with the result.

Audacity (day 141)

Sometimes I have the audacity

to be a liar with a little bit of honesty

Sometimes I take what you give me

and hide it away

 

Secrets shouldn’t be this easy to keep

Alone spills from my suffocation

but I pull apart knots, try to believe

in this everything

 

Sometimes I have the audacity

to be tangled and a little bit lonely

Sometimes I whisper beginnings

to keep you on my side

 

I’ll pour the ocean in your cup

Safe has never been what I want to be

Every day is a victory, a battle

and I stand straight to face it

 

Sometimes I have the audacity

to be passionate and a little bit crazy

Sometimes I grab the steering wheel

and yank it off the road

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 12/17/16

Audacity

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