CHARLZ DELA CRUZ

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Farewell

Farewell, Poetry
No good can come to a poet
People have lost their humanity

She is full of earth

She is full of earth     and bright
  and solid

nothing escapes   her light

in her eyes   are dreams,   full    and torrid
wild enough     to touch  and    conquer
 the stars

the wind   asks, where is    the fire?
answer: fire    melts  on her    body
like the waves that   find   the sea
in her hand


and yet   love    is a  mysterious
  sacred   journey
a   pure    divine art

because  if   you   only look   closely
you shall   find    her
  in  my   heart.

You are not of this world

You are not of this world
and yet your beauty fills it
In your quiet space,
you whisper words
that define my existence
You may not know about it
but I know well about it
and it is enough
for all my stars to shine
This is how I search for your meaning
And although I have not seen your face
I know why birds sigh in the morning.

You are not of this world
and yet your beauty fills it
In your quiet space,
you whisper words
that define my existence
You may not know about it
but I know well about it
and it is enough
for all my stars to shine
This is how I search for your meaning
And although I have not seen your face
I know why birds sigh in the morning.

Live a life
full of passion
Tear away conventional values
made by sad people
more lost than you are
Let the fire of passion
consume you
from inside out
Explain nothing
The moon and stars
will understand you
The sun will light up your steps
For nothing is profane
in a heart that loves
The world will think that you are mad
and hate you for being happy
Ignore them
Love all with a blazing force
Love without mercy
Burn, burn, burn
Run with the wind
Dance with the trees  and laugh at the sky
Wake up to your dream
and be alive
Be free Be true
Be you.

weak    and
trembling
on  her
 knees she sucked 
the
   soul     out
     of
me

Her soul
spills
out of her body
and she does not know it

she does not know
how her eyes
light up
like looming mountains
touching
the brightest stars

and that poets
only write
what the wind
whispers
to her hair.

He hated the world So much That he hated himself He despised the world So much That he became the world…
I
He was not born to be a writer His soul was simply broken into pieces, like the alphabets
And so he writes hoping that he might know who he was or who he is that as he puts back the pieces of his soul he might form a word or a name to call himself
It is true that one may find wisdom when one is lost but it is also true  that one  can be lost forever
He writes  under the light  of the full moon, re-creating beauty with a quill, parchment, and tears while she is asleep, dreaming the wildest dreams perhaps of some far-away kingdom catching butterflies and the whole world sleeps with her
Indeed, he was not born to be a writer He was only broken into one.

She desires
a love that is pure and deep
only to find herself lying  in bed alone, feeling her nakedness with her hands
Because  she wants love – love that is real – love that moves mountains and overthrows life
but the world has so many thorns, too painful for  a rose.

Swim, bird, swim they said so the bird dived into the sea Swim, bird, swim they repeated  and it drowned in misery  What's wrong with you, dear bird?  Why can't you do anything right? I want to fly said the bird Then fly in the water they said Is that possible? thought the bird  Swim, bird, swim they insisted
So the bird flapped its wings underwater
swimming deeper and deeper into the sea
Very good they said
How are you now? they asked But the bird was cold and quiet
Are you still there? they asked
and no one answered Swim, bird, swim they whispered Swim, bird, swim.

She is full of earth    and bright
  and solid

nothing escapes   her light

in her eyes   are dreams,  full  and torrid
wild enough   to touch 
   and   conquer
 the stars

the wind  asks, where is the  fire?

answer: fire  melts  on her  body
like the waves that  find  the sea
 in her hand

and yet  love  is a  mysterious
  sacred   journey
 a  pure  divine art

because  if  you  only look  closely
you shall   find    her
  in  my   heart.

She looks at pain and betrayals
as if looking at some old friends
she knows their insides and outsides
her expectations and their actions

so, every time, she would shake
their hands
lift herself up on tiptoes
and dance with them

they push her to the ground
but she twirls
bending gracefully
they eat her soul but she dances
with a lingering smile
sometimes she laughs
only to hide the sound of tears
leaving her eyes

she knows their insides and outsides
and she laughs at them
and herself

because after all the music
and the laughter
she looks at the moon and realizes:

the world did not
make her strong

it made her numb.