Category: Poem

Why are all the good ones taken?

A masterpiece, my gaze is inevitably drawn into

Bittersweet dreamboat, always too good to be true

More precisely, why do I dive in headfirst free falling down a cliff

How many more to come, until I learn from this age-old mistake

Must my heart insist, on torture in the most painful way

Clinging onto shreds of hope each time

That this next mirage will finally be mine.

Was I in love with him?

Or simply charmed by the idea of this enigma

Will the universe ever cross our paths, my darling soulmate?

Perhaps, instead, you might leave me with the resolution

That romance in my life is meant to remain dead.

Varna

I need a distraction.

Could you be so, just for today?

This isn’t what you think it is

Gaze into my orbs

There is no lust, not even love

Just the desperate need for comfort.

 

Hold me for a little while

Envelope me in your warm embrace

Allow my senses to be filled with you;

The throbbing in my skull to subside

The tears to cascade down onto you

The strangled sobs to escape my lips.

 

I’d be lying if I said

I needed your soul, though it is beautiful.

Ethereal, despite your cynical nature

Yet it is not your good looks I crave either.

Although you are quite the pretty picture

Nay, just hold me and stroke my hair

Till my anguish subsides

From this state of despair.
That alone will do.

Varna

Serene Fantasia,
Gardenia City.

Weeping stag tree, to prance no more
Clouds dangling from tire swings
Bohemian beach-side caravans in a distant Gypsy daydream.

Every nook and cranny a picturesque panorama
Wishfully dotted skies and hopeful eyes cast heavenwards.

The beauty of the celestial cosmos tattooed across their awe-filled orbs
A luminous crystal ball gazes down below,
Cloaked in the mysterious disguise of night.

La Luna, be my Lady Luck tonight
Cradle me in your milky light,
Your wisdom I seek, ’tis nought but right
For my soul lays fragile without your might.

Varna

Colour me crimson,
Dipped in that hot cherry red
Auspicious, conspicuous
Spiced wilder than chilli.
A shade so bright, it burns vivaciously
With a fury that even hell would envy
Scarlet beads of rubies
Precious this blood be.
In every drop her anguish
Her lips vermilion
Ravishing, beckoning
Come hither, lusciously sweet
Like sugar with honey.
Regal, traditional
Of poise and grace
She’s a classic vision of beauty.
Porcelain features etched on her face
Red, red O’ glorious it be.
A nation’s pride blazes
Flaming flags nip the air

‘Tis a hue donning many faces

red. Red. RED. R E D.

Yet, I prefer maroon.

Varna

You were like the first breeze

After the hottest summer

On a summery afternoon

In a beach full of people.

I guess cliches did happen in real life

Continue reading “Easy” →

Luna won’t you be my lady love,
Allow me to serenade you,
In the secret disguise of night.
Whispering words sweeter than honey,
And offerings of the finest gifts,
Beauty knows no bounds to you,
As an ethereal, ancient goddess you bask.
Glory be in your splendour,
It measures up to none other.

Your features shrouded in utmost mystery,
A face unimaginably unique in each light.
So brilliantly you outshine every star,
For they gather ‘round you near and far.
With complexion paler than buttermilk,
And curving grooves so divine,
Darling Luna, won’t you be mine?

Varna

At seventeen,
she didn’t know what love was.
With her burgundy red lipstick,
5-inch heels,
and a pretty face.
She was young,
reckless,
and hungry.

At nineteen,
she did not know what anger was.
Her torn maroon shirt,
broken mirror,
and bruised cheek.
She was bound;
hopeless,
and alone.

At twenty-one,
she did not know what pain was.
The crimson floor
shattered pills
and bloodied arms.
She was caged,
helpless,
and terrified.

She craved warmth,
she knew it,
but,
did she?

V