Biography
Poetry, for me, allows me to paint my emotions and thoughts freely, almost as if the everyday language acts as a shackle to true expression. In my lowest and high points in life, I've reached for writing poetry to help me process these events. To console, to cherish, to learn and to at times to eternalise some unseemingly momentous moments.
Samples
The Splinters of Betrayal Memories, Crystallised into a clear vacancy, Tender-no wait. Torture. The threads of awareness Tangle, untangle, flash and suffocate. Blatancy burns, Tortures into the depths of who I am? And now in the quiet numbing, Of sensing the senseless, A relentless realisation, Of how far I am from causation, Hardly soothes, But merely proludes to the fact that he is a cold, hard instrument violating under the veil of someone new. Nothing, No heartbreak. But a delicate heart beat of a hapless fool that hopes against hope that this world, Is still - GOOD. A new eye, Blind but now I can see, A new era of disposal and instancy. Sexual objects. There to be played. Who has guilt for a mere object? You choose, you mould, you bombard. The world you claim to be a brain, Eases the murky sorry excuse of a man you attempt to project. Respect, Savagely ravaged, Total closure between the two, Yet. Recovering from those blue eyes of a stranger Disguised as a twisted masquerade of egotistical, self-promoting fever. Rolling in the mud of society's high life. The splinters of betrayal. August 2017
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
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