“I live in madness.” She tells him.

He smiles,

“And your madness is my only reality.”

—  Lukas W. // Forgotten Words #131 // “Your madness, my reality.”

Poet as cannonball. Poet as betrayal, betrayed. Poet as love, verb and noun. Poet as unbridled. Poet as three slashed tires. Poet as five angry voicemails. Poet as desperation. Poet as I-love-you-

Poet as entropy. Poet as sledgehammer. Poet as target and weapon. Poet as overflowing toilet. Poet as question and answer. Poet as echoed tears in an empty house.

Poet as giver. Poet as dichotomy. Poet as perennial mess. Poet as burned-at-own-stake. Poet as
canvas and brush. Poet as borderland.

Poet as slurred speech. Poet as fear embodied. Poet as tying-up-loose-ends. Poet as fire. Poet as
fire. Poet as fire.

Poet as binge. Poet as paper cut. Poet as playing God. Poet as recurring nightmare. Poet as
churning stomach.  Poet as rancid love.

Poet as sepia tone. Poet as epiphany. Poet as we’re-all-mad-here. Poet as crossed-out lines. Poet as proliferation. Poet as breaking out full speed.

Poet as animal, vegetable, mineral. Poet as person, place, thing. Poet as anthropologist, archaeologist. Poet as beginning, middle, end. Poet as resurrection.

Poet as karma. Poet as new world. Poet as complement, not compliment. Poet as quilter. Poet as vigilante. Poet as lifeboat. Poet as truth. Poet as truth.

—  Ars Poetica, Irene Vazquez
A small love letter

This poem is dedicated
to all dreamers
heartbroken thieves
enchanted ballerinas
elegant vampires
celebrated bad ass courtesans
renegade aristocrats
mad scientists
insane poets and electrifying timid children
my beloved dog Abu
my wise tomcat Sally short cut for my fav writer Salinger
and the last but not the least my charming
kaleidoscopic persona

Ps: this’s a love letter dedicated
to all my special friends in here :)

I just want to meet a girl who will treat me how they would want to be treated. I want to read books with you while we’re sitting at the table drinking coffee, I want reassurance that you aren’t going anywhere, I want to watch sunsets with you because I’m a sucker for those. I want deep conversations at unreasonable times and when my depression takes over I want to know that I can confide in you and that you’ll always take me seriously. I want random moments where we are laughing and giggling while cooking together, I want to chase you around the house all because you ate the last slice of pizza. Whenever we make love I want it to mean something (every single time) because not only am I giving myself to you but I’m completely allowing myself to be vulnerable at your side.

Most of all I want to be loved endlessly as well as doing the same. Spending the rest of my life with the person I vow to never give up on.

By the stars, the night zephyr, and the moon;
With the unyielding force that’s in my heart,
I shall reassemble our stardust strewn.
My voice the thunder; my breath the typhoon
Tears the universe’s fabric apart
By the stars, the night zephyr, and the moon.
And as I cleave through the cosmos’ cocoon,
beyond existence, where the void does start,
I shall reassemble our stardust strewn.
My love’s light will shine a sun at high noon,
Illuminating the vast’s empty part
By the stars, the night zephyr, and the moon.
With heavenly bodies I shall commune,
And through the arcane wisdom they impart
I shall reassemble our stardust strewn.
I will compel gods to dance to my tune,
Ensorcell to create love’s finest art;
By the stars, the night zephyr, and the moon,
I shall reassemble our stardust strewn.
—  Madman’s chest, by M.A. Tempels © 2017