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AstrologicalI have lost myself to
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.

Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).

Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.
lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
uncompromisingly
desperate to shine.

ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
unworthy tongue.

iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.

iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.

v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."
Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for? 
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude
False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days, 
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be 
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen
The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming arms of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment I didn't hear you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along
ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).
Chasing Butterflies
I believe in starry nights writing timeless songs
of all the yesterdays and tomorrows yet to come.

I believe in hearing the voice of love in rhyme;
I heard it as a child in my mother's lullabies.

Let's go down to the river now
and chase the butterflies.

I believe in playing, absorbing life's full sun,
dancing through the day until the night is done.

I believe in wishing wells never running dry,
granting us the time for a tender, slow goodbye.

Let's go down to the river now
and chase the butterflies.

Should I cross to the other side,
don't you worry; don't you cry.

There you'll see where tomorrow I'll be,
forever chasing butterflies...
False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams,
strangled by weeds, face down in the ground
with no roses to mourn them.

Singers are poets that croon
(if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)
and poets are false prophets -
true love will last forever
if they care to write it,
but not if you swallow the lines...

yet, they always do.

We all have a place
set for us in the shade
in our own private garden of weeds.
Evolution of life
child, we dream
teenager, we have ideas
adult, we have a bar code encrusted in the nape

we evolve to finish in the matrix
False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for
VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymes
By the people in their endless time
As the morning dew breaks the day
Back to where the city-lights once laid

The lamp-posts are filled with black starlight
As the children run in their flight
With cries of sorrow, cries of pain
The old houses creaking with disdain

Acidic puddles of blood-wet tears
Remain on the street through all these years
As the cracks have hid the crumbled dust
Within these roads of bone and rust

The melody of the birds is lost
To the screeches and screaming loss
There are people cowering in the dark
Murmuring, whispering their tortured remarks

Flames ignite the world in fire
On The Collapse Of Modern Society"I've never seen so many folks
putting their hopes 
in packaged air,
as far as I'm concerned,
and from what I've observed
misplacing material worth while 
rushing back and forth
to get nowhere."
my Grandma said, 
shaking her head.
Within A BoxIt's a prison for the minds of haunted souls
an odd prison, not large enough to contain its prisoners
and yet it encompasses every fiber of their being 
in silent, silent spaces.
Haunted souls are searching for the key
there is no key, but they don't know any better
and what harm could it do? Hope is better than nothing
here's an unlocked open door for you.
Little trinkets haunt souls with their questions
and we want answers, but they won't give
anything away. Very smart,
you know the world is ending soon.
(The best of which are only
crude descriptions of the magic
they are looking for.)
HumanDear Hypocrite,

 What do you do?
Throwing insults when you're insulted.

Dear Coward,

 Where went you?
To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.

Dear Liar,

 What say you?
Your poison corrupts innocent ears.

Dear Human,

 What are you?
A sinner trapped in endless tears.

 
Lovers and assassinsNight
walk
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More from ~ToaAkatsuki

24 Hours24 hours today
not nearly enough time
to accomplish anything
24 hours to waste
sleeping
eating
and then idling
aimlessly wondering
why I only have
24 hours a day
You Can't Come InYo, how do you know what I’m doing?

Really, it’s kind of freaky

What? Watching?
Lurking, Waiting?

Wait. A window?
What window?
Hiding in what?

The pear tree’s shadow?
Where the pears are still ripe, you say?

No way, that’s just too weird.

Hang on, caller ID
You’re on a cell, I see

I hear a motor engine over the phone
Sounds like the bike that just sped down the street
And there, under the tree, alone
A figure stands, erect on his feet
Could that possibly be you?

What are you here to do?

Hey man, answer me
You’re crossing the street
That is you, isn’t it?
Stop, Explain
What do yo
ConspiracyI see it in your eyes
How much do you know?
I know from your expression
You’ve seen beyond
What I’ve allowed the newspapers to show

It wasn’t luck that gave me this position
You’re right to not believe in coincidence
But you cannot feign ignorance
It is so plain on your face
Your unexpressed outrage
But I can fake convincing innocence
So you really are powerless

Suspecting me will get you nowhere
You can’t change anything
Because I’ll stop you long before
you tell anyone your story
And even if you do
I can still pass you off
as a raving lunatic perished
in an unfortunate accident
Or maybe s
IndecisiveCan’t say who’s right or wrong
Some think they’re justified
Just because they’re strong
Some have reason on their side
But it’s all speculation
Based on laws we don’t all recognize
The majority disagrees
So I run to you for reassurance
But what if you’re wrong too?
And if they all agreed
Wouldn’t that make me
Just a sheep?
But if they’re all right
Then following the shepherd
Would definitely be justified
Yet if they’re wrong
We’d do well to be done
With them and their ways

I’m turning around in circles
My mind’s a mess, it’s true
In the end there’s
AmbitionPicture this, a fictional but entirely possible and indeed, probable, situation: A group of scientists are working in a company, developing new technology. Someone proposes a potentially revolutionary idea, but the first thing the head scientist asks for is government funding. Having obtained these funds, he goes to work every day and leaves at the same time, working just enough to get paid for it, and not particularly caring about his research. He can put more effort into it, but only if you pay him more. But you can’t blame him for mediocre results as long as he put in enough hours.

And here lies the difference between people who work
Dropping HintsI really want you to know
But I don’t know how to tell
Let the tension grow
Cause I’m scared as well

Afraid to say too much
Afraid I’m coming on too swiftly
Not in such a rush
Shocking you would only hurt me

But what are you missing?
To put it all together
And internally I’m cursing
myself for not being better
at wording these crucial phrases
And keeping you in the dark
I’m just making it complicated
Hiding behind a casual remark

You display a clueless face
Don’t you know it’s frustrating?
for me; if I continue at this pace
Will I ever come close to finishing?

My fault for being too subt

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August 15, 2009
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[x]

reunion: catching up

:icontoaakatsuki:

five years into
five minutes

we practice
summarizing
skills together

and over casual
conversation,
safely balanced
between friendly
and reserved,

recalling the texture
and the nature
of our linking
passages,

we test each other
for the possibility
of repairing
neglected
bridges

I almost burned
:icontoaakatsuki:
I like reformatting old poetry. :)

This is fail. xD

Anyway, it's what happens when you suddenly run into someone you haven't seen for years. Something like that.

Needs work, but I'm out of ideas.
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:iconxxxhalo:
Critique by *xxxhalo Aug 15, 2009, 8:11:27 PM
I really like this and the way that you have this poem set up. It's like a way to draw the reader in and to keep their attention. I also like the movement of the poem how it goes from each stanza to stanza, it flows along with little to no interruption of words that don't fit or something like that.
The only criticism that I would have is that the ending line, I'm not completely sure on what you're trying to convey. I have an idea but it's not plainly clear to me, other wise it's an awesome poem.
What do you think?
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:iconnycterent:
`nycterent Aug 19, 2009  Professional Writer
I like how "burned" is close to the line about bridges - makes me thinking of burning bridges, but the poem only oh-so-carefully offers it up as a very subtle play. Might be just in my head, might not. Lovely piece.
Reply
:icontoaakatsuki:
~ToaAkatsuki Aug 19, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Oh, that's exactly what I was going for! :) Thank you.
Reply
:iconjohnnyfan07:
~Johnnyfan07 Aug 17, 2009
Ever since I've switched schools, I'm always running into people who I havn't seen. You see how people change when you're not watching and really begin to wounder if that's the same person you laughed and ran with on the playground so many years ago.
Reply
:icontoaakatsuki:
~ToaAkatsuki Aug 17, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Exactly. And then you wonder if you really want to stay in touch with them.

I usually just Facebook them and then leave it at that. xD
Reply
:iconjohnnyfan07:
~Johnnyfan07 Aug 17, 2009
Same here, though I never really talk to them, they just sit in my friends list collecting dust.
Reply
:icontoaakatsuki:
~ToaAkatsuki Aug 17, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Exactly. :P
Reply
:iconitsxmagik:
~ItsxMagik Aug 16, 2009
This is not fail.
Seriously, the last line is amazing.
:heart:
Reply
:icontoaakatsuki:
~ToaAkatsuki Aug 16, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Thank youu. :)
Reply
:iconitsxmagik:
~ItsxMagik Aug 17, 2009
You're welcome. <3
Reply
:iconparisbound-11:
~parisbound-11 Aug 16, 2009
hey, don't diss it! I like this :D
Reply
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