Sunday, April 18, 2010

There's no time, for someone to save you.

You need it.
But don't feel it.

Suppress it.
It's driven by you.

The drama,
the hair,
the touch or,
the care.

A perfect,
An imperfect,

The reality,
that's so fake,
The illusion,
that's at stake.

Don't cry,
you wanted it.
Don't try,
you've received it.

Let's end this thing while it's still unreal.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Different Love

Difference made me, young but unnoticed,
Chided and amused, for its effeminate ways,
But left undisturbed, a passing figment or phase,
That would soon fade, much like my natality.

Glance, awkwardly, shuffle,
Scorn me, for the factors
that don't align themselves,
With the fabric of your society.

Slowly, pubescent with age,
You turn avoidance into jeers,
Mock me, for I'm different,
Because no, God didn't make me so.

God couldn't create but benevolence,
Stitched and arranged in structures,
Break them down, commit sacrilege,
Though God did intend us to love.

Love, that darest not speak,
In speech or even mentionable name,
Silently residing and hiding in stares,
Coyly taking up shelter in our souls.

Fear drives us; No, it drives you,
Change would destroy it all,
Enter us into a world of dirty carnage,
Gored with promiscuity that's media defined.

Older now, now longer hormonal,
We control our desires, the arduous ones,
Yet now and again, we break away and sneak,
Into to the dark, into the night that won't persecute us.

I'd hold your hand, but people look,
And law abides by the inhuman-kind,
Save the tradition, save their families,
Sometimes we aren't even worth the living.

Look, he boldly professes, un-afraid,
He does not shy away from seeing eye to eye,
Look, how they raped him, he eats now rust,
He cringes away, in dusty corners seeing, but un-feeling.

Maternal love, paternal guidance turn to shame,
mixed with pity and disgust, for now I must be fixed.
Something's broken in me, I must conform,
lest the world strike me down for loving.

I'll stand in the lowest rung of society,
For I cannot change the aberration thus declared,
It is not right, for my love is wrong,
So I'll walk silently to mine own execution.

As they tighten the noose, but loosely so,
So the disdain, anger and hate can filter in,
As the black cloth shuts the light from my eyes,
And muffles the jeers, the laughter and the hate.

World, pull the lever, untouched, yet not divine,
Undignified as my love was and shouldn't remain,
As the oxygen leaves, its leaves behind a broken body,
But I pray, I pray not a broken soul.

I'll no longer be alone, I am conjoined,
Amassed, immersed in the multitudes of sacrifice.
Unfettered, released, bondage untied,
Yet not unaware of the lonely world.

Left behind, left my mark,
A reminder of the battles unwon,
Of the struggles that keep the dream alive,
for the freedom of our different love.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Prologue * Trumpets *

The nouveau blog-o-sphere.

I intend to keep my old one as well, but that's more like a personal diary now.


I have nothing to commemorate this moment.

How about a political statement?

"It was believed that democracy means representation of the people. Our politicians believe it means the representation of condoms."