Untitled poem is untitled.

Wrote this on the way back from Sunway, and continued all the way before and after dinner. Turns out that I still have what it takes to write something!

Anyway, before you read this, I just have a few things to say.

I’ve always wanted to write a poem about Okami ever since I started watching the terrific gameplay by Chuggaaconroy on Youtube. I am seriously in love with this game, forever and always. And! I started writing this poem with Okami in mind. I swear I did. That was until I got deviated by another, which made this poem appear to have a double meaning, at least to me. Actually, I’ve incorporated references from the game/story throughout the poem, but I suppose I’m probably the only one who can see it. Fail. So if you happen to think I based it off from somewhere else then hurhur

But if you haven’t heard of Okami (which you really should) that’s alright. Even better actually-feel free to interpret this poem as you see fit!

And as you can see by the lame title, I don’t have a title for this poem. Totally and completely stuck. So, I welcome suggestions of any kind. But I may or may not use your ideas-if I do I will definitely credit you, of course.

Julian, I blame you for this! You should know the extent of your ‘crime’, haha. Long story short-there was a Tumblr page. And the rest is history.

Henceforth, I am not going to lie that the distraction that I encountered while writing came in the form of Loki. In my head, he overwhelmed the Okami idea I had and… well. See what fangirling does to me?? Even though the tumblr page was introduced to me only today while I wrote the poem on Wednesday… well. Doesn’t matter.

But I admit. Loki/Hiddleston is amazing. And I’m quite pleased with how this poem turned out, amidst the Okami/Loki hiccup. WHATEVER.

So, is my poem about Okami, or Loki, really? You be the judge, but I think we all know the answer.

Evidently, I have no shame.

Your eyes of searing flame,
A driving beacon in the gloom,
The spirit of a wolf, none can tame,
Fates of may, interwoven on a loom.

Running with fire and ice,
Your forbidden chanty serenades me,
Like a dancer your strides entice,
Intoning your promise for eternity.

In the dark, I see your reflection,
A shadow of the power you wield,
Discord and mischief honed to perfection,
Behind a smile, knowingly sealed.

Blood and wine, I grant you my heart,
My soul and vessel forevermore,
Your kiss and insignia, never to depart,
A pyre in winter’s unrelenting war.

Pieces of You

New poem, after like what, forever?

-

I saw the look in your eyes,

A sigh so deep through your heart,

Once a fairy tale now a demise,

A wintry season, worlds apart.

The dying embers glowed their last,

A faint kiss of ash upon my lips,

Written farewells of the past,

A ghost of a dream at my fingertips.

Try as I may to stem the flow,

My heart unfinished, missing a piece,

Only sweet nothings your voice can bestow,

Enchanting poetry with a subtle tease.

Blood as ink I sign my goodbyes,

With my hand I calmly wrote,

Gone were the days I drink in your lies,

This chapter I seal with a solemn note.

Demon’s rapture

Don’t laugh at the title okay. It just came. ._. I wrote it on the journey back home with Jason and Amanda. We sang ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ in an utmost disastrous fashion, watched ‘Avatar: The Last Airbender’ and we recorded our singing fiasco. Road trip again!

—-

On the night of Hallow’s Eve,
You took my blood as wine,
Under the moon, never to leave,
My flesh is claimed for yours to bind.

A dark hearted one, you ravenously devour,
I saved my last breath for you,
When all is done you kneel at the floor,
My chapter closes, and start anew.

Lips forming a prayer that will never be,
Unopened letters blown into the rain,
Your hold on me sears with poisonous ecstasy,
Your kiss of heroine pulses through my vein.

Burning in your realm of fire,
Your marked a scar upon my heart,
This demon’s rapture, entwined with desire,
My covenant delivered, never to depart.

—-
Postscript: I decided to use the word ‘vein’ not just because it rhymes or anything. It struck me that wouldn’t it be unusual if we all had only one vein-so everything has to pass through that vessel. I imagined that the adrenaline and what not emotions would have to rush through that narrow path, so wouldn’t everything be magnified/experienced tenfold? Quite scary though.

The Fallen Boulevard;

The deal is set, the stakes are high,

The roulette is spun, the end is nigh,

With a smoking gun, receive the card,

A subtle irony on the fallen boulevard.

 

Choices in your hands, what will you choose?

A roll of the dice, or simply refuse?

To be or not to be, this will be hard

A dilemma to resolve on the fallen boulevard.

 

None can compare to your poker face,

A mask of disdain, a facade of sculpted grace,

Entrenched in prison, encased in a ward,

All alone on the deserted, fallen boulevard.

 

A sweeping fan, a closing dance,

Unwritten, misfortune may bechance,

The smiling crow, a silent guard,

On the setting, fallen boulevard.

Untitled III;

My words like burning embers

Flickering off the edge

Smoke in the desolate chambers

A lingering presence upon the stage

 

My eyes clouded with fallacies

That only I can see through

Thoughts laced with impurities

A cup of tea with a murky brew

 

I dreamt that one came to my aid

In my dreams of woven securities

You swept me far away from dread

Opened my door to endless possibilities

 

But I know that I’m only dreaming

The world continues to turn

My tears flow, past the bleeding

A beating heart that continues to burn.

 

 

 

 

Secondhand Serenade

At the darkest chapter,
Shines a beacon of purest light,
The air is caught, a sighing fiddle,
Voices congregate, as one unite.

There is none but his nimble grace,
Fingers performing the unscripted act,
His engaging smile, leaving no trace,
The written secret, expertly kept.

His voice, a lilting chanty,
Eyes of garnet etched in marble stone,
A debonair with a sinful ancestry,
Skin of ivory, cold as bone.

Yet his song is meant for one,
A soul in Eden’s finery,
To enrapture her, his quest is done,
A secondhand serenade in lasting memory.

This was written about 2 weeks back. Narrative poetry is so in now for me. I write whatever my inspiration conjures. (: 

Never Too Late (to say goodbye)

R.I.P. Amber.

-

There is a heavy scent

in the air

Words hung suspended

Though no mouth spoke

 

So many ruminations.

 

She is at her last

Everything is now calm

Her worries cast out into the vast ocean

 

Watching them drift away, sinking 

 

But she held on to love

She will hold on to love forever

 

Even in death.

 

There is no somber color

Somehow there is white

It blinded her

Made her dizzy

Made her think of heaven 

 

She is bid farewell

There is no hatred, no rivalry

No regret, no fear

Right now they’re all out the window

 

And the tears

Translucent, but full of meaning

Filled with memory and love

 

There is a kiss

Tender, soft, heartwarming

Everything is said through this kiss

 

Another way of saying goodbye.

 

There are no stars

Just the stark, empty ceiling

Nothing to look at, nothing to admire 

Except to look into his eyes whom she loved

 

Though his arms around her kept her warm

Keeping her here with him

The moment can’t be here forever

She knows it has to end 

 

There is no guilt

But apologies 

That she will leave him so soon 

It was not her fault to die

 

It was the last thing she saw

 

His beautiful eyes. 

-

I decided to edit my ‘that person’ page. To something short and uh, readable.

Ironwood Rose

I wrote a new poem! (sing-song voice) Sorry, but it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve actually wrote anything. This poem just struck me, so I grabbed my pencil and book and just scribbled it down. The title was partially inspired by “The Ironwood Tree” of the Spiderwick Chronicles series. I’m not too sure about the film adaptation-what are your views on the movie?-but I’d definitely recommend you to go and read the books. The drawings are fantastic and it just fits my liking perfectly. One of the reasons why I got that book was because I was simply blown away by the cover art. Tony DiTerlizzi rocks.

Back to the title analogy, yeah, partly because the term “Ironwood” sounds poetic to me and this illustration in the book where a dwarf gestures high above his head towards a tree made completely with iron, so realistic that each leaf is unique, almost alive: “Behold mortals, a beauty that’ll never fade.” I most certainly didn’t say that. This shows that I’ve read too much of the same book. Talk about lack of reading material. So to me, “Ironwood Rose” meant something, or someone whose beauty and spirit that will always linger, forever preserved.

As for “rose”, it just sounds lovely, romantic, or anything you wish. The flower itself is pretty, so it’s just the first word that really means something.

Ironwood Rose

I hear your thoughts like a knotted thread
Interconnected, entwined together
No one knows our cryptic charade
Ever changing and swift like the weather

What that was once you
Has changed, tainted
Appearing before me as someone new
Severing ties with those once acquainted

Your aura of confidence like a flame
Burns brightly, warming me so
A noble phoenix in this cruel game
Bewitching and malevolent to both friend and foe

I shudder at your kiss
Your touch as I am pulled into your arms
Your lidded eyes like a heavy eclipse
In your guarded sanctuary I have no qualms

The tears you shed like petals of a rose
Your beating heart not born, but made
As your remorse and regret comes to a close
Your spirit immortalized, never will fade.

***Copyright: Cheri Loh-2008

Postscript: Well, my *cough* main source of inspiration came from elsewhere, and I can tell you that it’s not Spiderwick-related. It’s really obvious-crystal clear-once you look closely. (;