Regret

I've been a fool
An insignificant tool
Of greater machinations

I've been guilty
Slippery and silky
It wouldn't be thrown out

I've been naive
A heavy heart to heave
With those awful sounds "How? How?"

I've been cruel
What I've done, who will
Like stains of the indelible

I've been arrogant
Seeking to dissent
Against gods, spirits, the higher

I've been senseless
In all nisus
To achieve sensibility

I've been the devil
All fear, no scruple
Forgiveness is foreign

I've been blind
Always peering behind
But never looking forward

But I'm here
With a road vast, white, clear
What will I do then?
I've been human

I See The World

I see bluish skin,

Sinews and veins

A lattice of architecture,

Rivulets of blood

Snaking beneath the worn surface,

Branching into streams

Of rushing life

Interlaced in the ridges,

The miniature valleys and hills

Of veined feet:

Buttresses of hollow ankles

Planted on the ground.

They climb upwards,

The graceful curvature

Of strong calves

Stretched over the bustling network

Of synapses in rush-hour frenzy,

Trafficking to and fro,

Always busier than we.

I see hands of bark,

Knotted and gnarled,

Twisting out into branched

Fingers of dark-speckled fatigue.

Musculature smoothly weaving

Into arms, bruises flowering

Irises upon delicate skin.

Fibers twisting up,

Connecting

Into rooftop shoulders,

Shingles of brick scars

Layered roughly

Like the jutting edges of rock faces

Peeking out of the ocean,

Collarbones spanning wide

like seagull wings

Brushing the edges of the water.

I see tree root hollows of the neck

Mimicking those of the ankles,

A sturdy weave of sinews

Roping like thick lianas

Up into the foliage

of rainforest hair with tendrils hanging

down to curtain the windows of eyes,

hiding lightning and fire

and thoughts that sweep past

like a flock of evening birds.

Freckles like scattered pollen

Over the delicate blooms

Of carnation cheeks,

No less fragile than the

Blushing petals of lips

Yawning like the sky

Or quivering

With the crystalline droplets

That hang from spidery eyelashes

And water the carnation cheeks

In their grieving brooks.

I see the world.

Fog-Felled

I blundered through the fog
Hands outstretched; they sought
The daylight, even in the day
Some clarity come, I pray

Roiling shapes in the mist
Obstruct sight of the distance
There was no contrary instance

Wandering alone and lost
Smoky ghosts all around
With breath frigid like hoarfrost
On me, they breathe down

Seeping into every orifice
They swirl and swish with such malice
Mist outside, miasma inside
Any transparency denied

Like gaseous poison rife
The air I breathe is stifling
All sight is dying

Fallen with no fear
For the air would never clear
The floating fog so downy
I let it drown me



[All I write are poems :( maybe I should do something else]

On Suicide.

I know I haven't been writing anything new. I rarely post, and when I do, I post stuff that was written two years ago.
I don't have the inspiration to write poetry anymore.
BUT, to appease ye literary gods, I shall write now.
Not poetry, but merely some musing I've had.


Now, some of you will know (namely Mich, my Mom, and Eunice) that I oppose suicide prevention. Some of you might wonder why. So far I have only explained it to my mom (in person). Her reaction was unfathomable. I wonder what she thinks of it. She gave no comment.

This notion came to me one day after talking yet another person out of suicide/self harm/whatever. I'd had enough of this crap.

Let me first state that this is written in the context of disregarding any religious beliefs and such. This is written for a utilitarian perspective, which I find to be the most practical and sensible of philosophies.
Christianity states that suicide is a sin. It also states that your body is not yours to decide what to do with. I disregard all of this. I believe that everybody has rights to their own body.

Let me also say now, that in the context of people I know personally, it's not that I want you to die, per se. It's just that I have my reasons for not interfering in your intentions on what to do with your life. It is your life, after all. If you have thought it all out carefully and are sure about it, then... by all means. I hope you find what you're looking for. I'll miss you though.

So this is my reasoning on why I don't believe in talking people out of suicide (besides the obvious reason of being too lazy).

First,
The reasons people contemplate suicide are these: They're depressed over stupid things, they're depressed over serious things, they're psychotic, they're impulsive, they're attention seekers whose ploy had gone awry, or they have philosophical reasons for dying.

People who are depressed over stupid things
These fall into two categories.
The first is young people who are just overdramatic attention seekers. Like teenagers who contemplate suicide over a breakup. Please. Get a life. Most of the time these people don't actually commit suicide, and are just annoying. The ones who do commit suicide are probably the ones who don't get the attention/help they need, or are just that messed up. Seriously, if your problems are trivial, deal with them yourself. Don't burden others with your incessant drama. If you're stupid enough to commit suicide and not see the bigger picture of your life, then society is better off without you. Thus, go ahead.

The second category is older people who are depressed over stupid things. If you're this old, and still this immature, then, again, you're really messed up. Society is better off without you. Unless you really do contribute to society in a significant way. But I doubt this is the kind of character that leads to such a helpful member of society. You should be old enough to decide if this is what you really want, anyway.

People who are depressed over serious things
The people like Kurt Cobain.
The world still misses him. His genius is a loss to the world.
But we understand, that if we had the power to have kept him alive, it would have caused him much pain. His life was a painful one.
So. If people have serious and legitimate reasons for committing suicide, it would be cruel to hold them back. Some people are happier dead. If they want to end their lives, it should be respected.

People who are psychotic
Um do we really want a bunch of psychotic people running around in our society? Better off dead than a burden and danger to us all. I know you guys will say that not all of them are beyond help. This is where the burden part comes in. Besides, I believe that psychological suffering is still suffering, and if they want to end their lives, so be it.

People who are impulsive
These are most likely people who do drugs, have drinking problems, etc. They're just stupid. If they stayed alive they would have screwed something up in our society. They're like... like system glitchs. anyway, they're a danger and a burden. Refer to the above.

Attention seekers whose ploy had gone awry
Refer to "young people who are depressed over stupid things". You know, people who one day cut their wrists too deep, or took some random pills whose overdose effects they had no idea of. If their stupidity or ignorance caused their deaths, then oh well. Since these "suicides" are accidental, there's not much prevention that can be done. But we're probably better off without them.

Those with philosophical reasons for dying
These are the people who have some higher reason for believing they ought to die. I think, as far as sound reasoning is concerned, their wishes ought to be respected. Who's to say they aren't wrong in believing whatever theory or concept they came up with, that suggested they were better off dead? Perhaps they were right. Perhaps they were onto something. We'll never know.

Thus, I conclude here that suicide shouldn't really be prevented unless you're absolutely sure that the person is making a grave error and will realize this. Or you're selfish and you don't want to cope with the grieving.

I myself have often fantasized about suicide, but I would never consider doing it for real. I have my own logical considerations that suggest that it'd be best to stay alive for now.

Redrum

In a river of remorse
Lay one, off his course
Driven there by force
And a hellish dark horse
An overflowing spring
Blood and guilt dripping
From a crown of fallen king's
Of glory days it sings
 The engulfing black waters
A hazy liquid mire
Obstructing the gazer
From Pleiadian daughter
It flows and flows and flows
In a current no one knows
Light births monochrome rainbows
Mocking with sickly glow
A deep-seated fear
Sits in a centre near
Just when all is clear
Vanished is the last tear

Drowning

Pondering the ponderous
Depths below, so ageless
They'd swallow up the nisus
The draining numbness
Standing pathless
Over the road of no vagueness
Take me to the timeless
Void lightless

All that separates I
From the downward fly
To the rolling waves
That would save
Much anguish
Is this concrete grayish

Lightning waltzes
Across the darkening
Backdrop, that douses
The orbs seeing

Covering all in sight
A fine mist
So translucent and light
Heralds abyss

Capricious winds sweep
And sashay
Raindrops from their steep
Paths, stray

Watery dancers twirling
Currents of liquid swirling
Resentments curdling
All of it asserting
That this miasma
Sickly real aura
Must end
One which I should send

Rolling clouds and thunder
Rip the sky asunder
It sounds such an omen
For such a glow, then
To shield my visage
From stinging umbrage
My gaze sank
And once again drank

The sight of the roiling
Depths boiling

Happened a tilt
And for all brevity
My self spilt
In the hold of gravity

Descending with the rain
Loosing internal monsoon
Knowing that the pain
Would away soon



[Adapted from something I put up on FB recently. I know it's bad, I cobbled it together too quickly, it's pretty haphazard, huh]

Inspiration

The rampant flow of rushing waters

They drip and splatter in drowning splendor

The gold at far of the limitless rainbow

How you've surpassed the suppressing barrier

The block,

The clock,

Oh watch-- it's gone

Where do the sparks, all come from?

Now thank the cousin of the cupid

For thou has't been shot, lest I rot

Thanked the cousin of the cupid

For Inspiration has rescued thy hapless stupid