macaroni and ... cheese ?

oh ... the title has no relation to the rest of the post. 

apart from the fact that I am craving for that right now ! 

Well here I am... speaking to my Lola, and blogging. Today's blog will not be about me. This is because I think you want to hear bout something else. So here goes, Well my friend has a lady (WJM) and you probably will not know about their relationship so I have decided (with his permission) that I would write a poem about their hilarious relationship. 

here Goes... I will remember to get a mac and cheese after this post. 

No myth, only fact 

yes fact, unbelievable and even one which was completely unexpected. 

Out of the scarlet 

the bleu rose blossoms 

and shadows the virgin flower, picked by another cupid 

their perilous journey 

treading on thin ice, others look upon 

that decision the ribbon which binds the two hearts as one. 

careful making the scene as a common

theater, riff raff attending. 

A monstrosity of words 

hyperbolic language- an exchange 

really ridiculous and creating epic myth 

which render the reader asleep. 

they lie in the wait of the next wake.

No ideal, only a savage love. 

let their violent attraction drive their actions 

puppets to the wind. 

the coloured wind 

colours their unenlightened, repressed souls 

let the howling wolf 

paint their love, on the forest firs. 

The two run through the forest 

as time passes 

lost in the spring, summer, autumn

winter, blessing and 

that warm embrace of the two.

alone,cold 

together,warmth, heat, passion, 

how easy their ideal changes from delight to love in a 

second. 

A month passes 

the wake of it blowing off 

over a communion 

offered by a pope. 

italian, japanese,chinese 

gourmet food is common place

eliminate the unknowing mind 

bloody fool ! 

bubbling champagne 

melt the two into a glass a mix of liquid and bubble

memories never to be forgot 

the gods stand over with great in-trepidation 

and so they ignore the almighty one 

together 

blended into accord the two cleave to each other 

beautiful poetry composed 

when the two harps play 

the messy love  

oblong and square 

the two inter-joined 

a puzzle they are. 

I pray you found that rather ... interesting. messy but interesting. So reader believe you me, I will continue posting bout me, it is just that i reall need sustinance now and i have already entertained you so... go climb a tree! Mac and cheese here i come ! 

So I got my results ...

and the computer is not helping me by its constant jamming and buffering... sigh and i thought technology would make it all better. 

ok now on to more exciting news (or more dreadful-it all depends on how you look it) 

right, I got my results today, officially, to tell you the truth I already knew my scores so no surprise there. Well today was the meet the parents session and guess what? My parents were too lazy to go, I mean can you imagine that ? sigh ... anyway I had a chit chat with my teacher on behalf of my unbelievable parents. I can't believe that my teachers are all so, easy and friendly to communicate with, though they were disturbing me and teasing me I managed to get along with them quite well... 

Now onto even more exciting news :Lolita 

So this lolita of mine, who is she, I shall reveal her today ... no really, however I will not tell you straight but rather through a poem 

.Lolita a sweet sounding name having a ring, of three syllables: 

Uno-Lo Duo-Lee Tres- Ta, in the intrepid mind of the unenlightened. She remains, a figure, mysterious and hiding in the shadows of my mind. 

I trust that the reader is not too dull to be unable to guess my Lolita's name. 

Anyway, she has trapped my soul in her eyes, she looked at me today, with eyes, fragile and innocent but with a playful disposition. None that I can complain about, Yes, it is this obsession which steals my mind, and soul from that broken contorted mess of a body. 

Here goes, another poem which describes my Lolita and my blind obsession of her. 

A drunkard 

kissed by an Angel 

Yes she, my Lolita 

a girl, standing no more than 5 feet 4 

Yet she stands over me 

defeating my mind in a game of silence 

we do not speak but 

know each is around, aware Beware.

Art and artifice a picturesque image 

of ships sailing into the nothingness 

there is my mind 

knowing nothing, and leaving her, alone standing in my obsession. 

She runs away and hides in the shadows in my mind 

like a child, no, no, 

a lady, mature and glorious 

goddess divine. Perfect in her pride. 

let me lust in her presence 

my pride and prejucices fail me

leaving only a naked empty soul 

an open wound, festering with the sins of the eyes. 

So here i am loving her 

a drunkard wobbling through life

through it all 

kissed by an Angel, goddess, Lolita. Divine. 

unbelievable bliss... dreams

ahh reader, (yawns) i had a brilliant dream today, but the dream felt so real. Beautiful. all I can say. 

I believe you have heard much talk of my lolita, well in consolation i was kissed by her, or at least i managed to feel, or somewhat feel her lips press against my cheek. tender but not sloppy, thank god, anyway the rest of the dream was not as important (i really can't be bothered to tell you-I am way too happy) 

It was what i would recollect as a beautiful dream. 

Bubble and brew 

the goblet of my soul 

rising up, up and away like a balloon 

floating in space

floating across the lake styx 

i have lost everything 

memories and photos 

my mind a blur messy drawers. 

fusion of hearts 

she and I, hearts twined round a pole, she more vicious than I 

melt away 

saliva, her tender peck, soothes the pain in me 

I am lost, in all bliss for i have released 

it all 

my lo 

my love, my sweet. 

end. no more to say I am just a really happy man.  

To become Plath...

Ignore the previous post! yes... reader i have developed me, myself into an unstoppable creature. A Plath monster. 

I have become Sylvia Plath, an obsession with death and rebirth. That I choose death. 

Life chose me, and dictated YES DICTATED!!! the BASTARD FUHER!!! it chose me ! and commanded me to be born of this mother and this island. A cruel cruel dictator.

But now, now i have the choice of gaining a new life. and only Death is the door to that life, a life of nothing nothing but bliss, of heaven or eternal fire , cleansing the madness. I toast, the bubbling champagne of poison and force it down my throat, burns the insides, clean and pure. 

I have not given up on my Lolita, but because she, with her insolent behavior I shall spite her. because she destroys me from the inside, but her inspiration keeps me alive, to breathe. Her presence is the poetry which I offer, like nails to a coffin so is she, and i need, no i desire to be, to see her around, lest i loose my sanity, the hooks and the clingy child spirit within me SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!! 

and I am, desolate, desert of words. fountain bubble bubble drown me... take me to her, for she lives with hades, yes i have heard, Persephone her other name, a trickster, goddess of the underworld tormenting my soul and I THE VICTIM suffer like a jew in a chamber of horrors. death death all I want, desire obsess my Lolita. suffering pleasure in a single dance of eyes.  

I have not given up, 

Life, the dictator the Caesar, Hitler 

Master and I the slave 

bound to its chains 

I desire to be free, away with chains which bog me down, 

No more 

For now I am God who decides 

blue blooded, and royal I dictate that death will lead to life 

anew, reborn in to fire ! 

cleanse the madness remove the insanity of my mind. 

religion-a curse we all bear from young 

corrupting the pure mind 

a colonial man raping the daughters of the soil 

I am the lost generations of man. 

Persephone, Lolita, Queen of the underworld 

daughter of the earth 

tempts my soul 

her indolence and ignorance is the gas which suffocates 

like a holocaust 

i am a jew 

floundering in the mad smoke in the gas which cleanses.

The gas, a gas of words 

of poems - of words untold untold. 

and so i die, her presence like the nails of the coffin. 

pounding my body shut shut shut 

into that state of contortion of crushed souls

and placed into a mass grave of others who have followed 

I know your face, you knew her 

and you stand here, in the darkness with me 

Blood blood everywhere 

colours the soul the soil 

my lips plunder the red earth 

and lick it trailing the buds over the dirt. 

I am no more a man, only a monster 

a Creature of the depths, Cerebus 

let my body float in the river of styx and forget it all. 

and be reborn, from the ashes, with my Lolita 

my queen, my lady, 

My ruler of my soul ... beat beat softly. 

here ends the poem

my heart is poured out like a virgins heart so be nice.

A epiphany

so it has finally reached me... my epiphany 

I have gained knowledge that i cannot be ever be with my Lolita. never can happen for I feel that it is impossible. that is what i believe, though how much i want it to work out i realized that it will be difficult and hard getting to where i want to be with her, my lolita. 

so i shall relinquish myself and no longer allow myself to be held sway in this relationship. 

death take away all that i had for her... this is only temporary

like a serpent i will strike !

hello reader... (yes it does sound creepy) anyway... here goes. I cannot take it anymore ! nothing matters anymore. my struggle is paining my soul. Going to school is something which i have great joy but also i enter that prison with a heavy heart. Argh, pierce, ahhh SINGE MY HEAD !!! and now my God is missing... a hole in what remains of that black heart...oh my goodness this sounds so so emo... really cant take anymore of this crap! 

here goes ... another poem... more obvious to what is troubling me. and it may reveal too much but please please if you figure this out tell no one... please... i beg you 

Take me away ! 

do not hold me back! 

let me loose 

myself !

Pictures of pink and white flash through my mind 

the blossoming of the flowers in spring

rain is pleasant to my eye, and

like an angel she floats, across waterways 

but i cannot do anything. Cannot say anything for 

I am just a lone almond tree 

budding poetry through the flowery language 

Patience is not my cup of tea. 

not easy like cake. It is like poison, cyanide. No,  

Heroin, oh yes, she is like a drug. intoxicating, drowning me in her presence. 

I can see her from far far away 

petit figure with dancing eyes, lies play within those mirrors. 

i loose hope and don't know if i can, should approach. 

Missing, my mind, my all is lost to her, just 

just a starry dream. 

-finis-

i am really lost and helpless... all it lost. my Lolita. MY SIN MY SOUL, a curse !!!! 

 

my desk is in a mess

ok this is my really messy desk... it show loads of activity going on ... oh you will not like it if you see my notice board. it is worse. anyway just wanted to show you the desk of a noble ranter. and a poet ... kindof

argh what have i done... spilled milk ?

so the phrase goes ... no point crying over spilt milk .... hmmm spilt milk ? why spilt milk ??? why not orange juice ? oh well. i have always wondered ...  the mistakes that we commit ... 

WHY DO WE REGRET THEM ???? 

i have chosen and decided a while ago that how i act shall determine me and no one but I am allowed to dictate my life. Yes it may seem that i am a narcissist. To hell with it ! 

you may be a bloody critic and damn my life for eternity and condemn me as a self righteous bastard, and i am sorry really for you ... because you are actually reading my thoughts. i pity you, reader that you have little to do but to blog hop (i trust you will not really want to bookmark my blog). 

mistakes govern our lives, yes yes the pessimist is speaking ... but it is true, ok tell me which mistake did not change your life ? ok fine maybe some did not but ... ok ok fine i will give you the consolation of being a perfect being and you have no mistakes at all. 

so there is no point crying over spilt milk... although it is quite tempting to lick it all up from the table and be a barbarian about it. but please please. no point crying over it. it is just sad and uninteresting. i know i am trying to dictate life, but let the unpredictable happen 

DAMN IT 

JUST LET IT BE !!! 

because the unpredictable is fun, though torturing at times. nonetheless let life take you... wherever and let loose and join in my bohemian revolution. Freedom of arts freedom of it all! all that restrains you let it loose. please do not mistake me for saying be loose in morals, but no Freedom of your own life is what you dictate, so dictate what you are! you slouch define yourself. like i am defining myself. well sort of. ahhh heck... Freedom, Liberalism unleash like a disease. go and sieze your kingdom ... today ! yay !  

I shall write this in the heat !

this is probably the first time i am going to do this... write a piece of poetry with hardly any proper planning ... so forgive me you prudish people out there who believe everything is planned ...let me burst that ridiculous bubble of yours :D... 

lets get on with it...

Prisms, a prison of confusion 

Lights bending, blending into an art of pure 

dances. 

 

Waltzing, to the beat of silence 

careful to watch our steps, 

careful to watch, watch the eyes of the other cat across the field 

The slit eyes pierce like a thread through a needle 

it floats aimless 

curls, loops and bows to the master 

the weaver, 

a tailor of hearts, 

clubs, diamonds spades 

spades to dig

a grave of love.   

grave 

the affair of love.

let the cauldron of my heart boil over. 

poisoned apples causes sleep, to take my love, my sweeeeet away, away 

into the light, beyond the heavens.

 

The lights, nay, not stars nor moon nor sun,

nor what the Gods can fabricate. 

Speak, Pan, divine painter ! 

No longer i Demand of the gods but they now shall demand of ME ! 

 

I create!

Painting a picturesque scene, a montage of brown and red

ere the sun rise, i fade into blissful madness, 

bended and contorted into a glass box.  

Ah the common love, is nothing just a bumper sticker pasted on 

with the hot glue. 

I hurl at this. with great disdain, My goddess, my cupid a common love is a foolish thing ! 

I'ld rather be compressed, inward, pressed on every side 

and pour out the wine, within my soul 

soulish wine, a narcissistic desire. 

Mock mock his shadow, my shadow mocks at me. 

i do not control it, it does not feel. 

like my gemini twin, a split, of spirit soul and body 

float, astrally above, my dismembered body. 

Let it be imposed, magnified, diminished, 

and I alone remain remain, the Bohemian that i am 

let life be cruel, let life pass, let it play with the spaces in my mind 

so be it, 

as it can only be, 

c'est la vie, c'est amore. 

ok done... good grief ! what a mess ... haha i am one confused collection of feelings ... lost confused and bewitched mind and soul. 

a secret ... affair

haha! yes there is a secret ...  that is going on, with ... i shall not reveal that person ... of course. 

and please ... don't think too much, it will make your brain itch. 

oh ... i cant reveal much... or at all ... apparently so i shall just leave this post as it is. for now ... 

expand my mind ... GODS I CALL ON THEE !!!! enlarge the mind of the unbeliever !