SCRAPPED / UNFINISHED POEMS COMPILATION

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SCRAPPED POEM I - Confession;
SCRAPPED POEM II - Hala and the traveler;
SCRAPPED POEM III - Attaining Heaven;
SCRAPPED POEM IV - Love will triumph;
SCRAPPED POEM V - Last attempt;
SCRAPPED POEM VI - The redemption of Tamamo No Mae;
SCRAPPED POEM VII - Common knowledge;
SCRAPPED POEM VIII - Gaming;
SCRAPPED POEM VIX - Gallica;
SCRAPPED POEM X - Dying;
SCRAPPED POEM XI - Victim of a Siren's song.

SCRAPPED POEM I

Confession

Myself I shall confess

In this very moment, with no stress

And shall I also reveal 

The secrets behind these attempts

To write hopeless texts 

Of rhythmic sentences

You see

I never really take the time

To revise and craft coherent sentences that rhyme

I wish I did

But I'm lazier than a bee

I am but an incoherent bard wannabe 

 

 

SCRAPPED POEM II

Hala and the Traveler

 As I traversed the absurdly vast desert of existence,

I saw the shape of another soul approaching in the distance.

As we met and talked, she mistook me for an artificial being,

And did so several times, but I kept that statement denying.

She said it was due to my correct grammar and choice of words,

But what can I say? I might be, in that regard, the greatest of nerds.

She was looking for a gentleman in the cyberealm,

And found one who, with words, can many hearts overwhelm.

We parted ways after forming an acquaintanceship,

I agreed to write her in my diary a poem of my own authorship.

She remains still a mystery to me,

We might become friends perhaps, that, I can almost foresee.

SCRAPPED POEM III

Attaining Heaven

Through the rain-wet streets, I walk,

Lost in thought, till I hear people talk

About the evils that turned this world so dark.

I keep walking, till I pass by men that know nothing but to bite & bark.

Time after, I look up to the skies

And think with tears of anger in my eyes

About the irreparable damage

That men did to itself and mother nature, my soul burns with rage.

I hopelessly ask the gods and goddesses for an audience.

Once granted, I ask for pardon and guidance.

They advise and lecture me with great eloquence

And grant me the power to start a new world at the cost of my own life.

As I wake up on the same streets as before,

I wonder if it's all been a dream, if I'm even sane anymore.

My questions get answers as soon as I wipe away my tears,

And the skies, by themselves, clear its clouds.

Realizing I have the key to wipe out the abhorrence

That is mankind for this planet, I set on a journey to purify my conscience.

After all, not all humans are evil;

Some of them have been through history quite admirable.

On my journey, I come across a priest.

He offers me his support, roof, and a feast.

He hears my story and tells me a similar one too.

He says that resetting the universe is exactly what he intends to do.

He talks about attaining heaven's power,

About his belief in gravity and love for prime numbers,

And so we pass the first hour

Chatting like friends looking for clues and answers.

 

SCRAPPED POEM IV

Love Will Triumph 

Life will happen.

Perhaps you'll attend university,

And due to our schedules, we'll have to

Reduce the time we spend together.

Faculty will get harder and busier for me.

University will go the same way for you,

And distance won't help at all.

Neither will time zones.

Life will happen,

And at some point, perhaps,

We'll be so overwhelmed we'll have nothing to talk about.

Will our studies replace love in our minds and hearts?

I'm afraid we'll lose interest in each other

As life puts many obstacles in our path.

I'm afraid you'll find someone who can

Give you everything and always be physically by your side.

Life will happen,

But nothing is for certain.

I believe in us, as a team,

And I trust you more than anything.

Life will happen,

But we'll close the gap soon.

We'll beat every obstacle and pass all tests,

And when we least expect it,

We'll be meeting at the airport and embracing each other.

 

SCRAPPED POEM V

Last Attempt

The coldness of my dad's gun, caressing my temple,

Felt like a gentle kiss from lady death,

As tears flowed down my face while I deemed my fate unavoidable.

Slowly, I pulled the trigger till it felt heavier,

One last effort, and I'd be gone,

But then my chest felt as if pierced by a rapier.

In that silly little second, as if she were right next to me,

I've heard my girlfriend's laugh,

Perhaps my brain's last clever attempt to avoid the mess my brains would soon be.

I remembered the good times together,

Along with the three women I care about, my mom, my sister, and my girl,

Hoping to feel perhaps a little bit better.

Out of instinct I pulled the trigger back a tad bit more,

Till I heard the mechanism get ready to shut me off,

I trembled and cried till my throat went sore.

I then put the gun away,

Went out of the bathroom, and screamed,

And also cried my heart out, hoping to vent and get to feel okay.

I eventually unsent the unread messages I sent to my girlfriend earlier,

Messages of despair, sorry, and true love,

And also apologized to a close friend to whom I confessed my pain interior.

I left everything as it was before and hid in my bedroom,

I sat and kept crying my soul out,

Feeling already lost, I accepted my doom and lowered the volume

Meditating it afterwards I gained the determination

And strength to build the future I need.

And declared that for these three women, I'd survive any coming confrontation.

Marking this thus as my last attempt

To take my own life.

I wouldn't just ever again break my promise and leave them contempt.

I chose to live to make and see my bright future be built,

Alongside my beloved Yani, the girl I intend to marry

The one who inspired me to chase my golden dream with no fear nor guilt.

 

SCRAPPED POEM VI

The redemption of Tamamo no Mae

A couple years after stepping out of her prison,

Be it by chance, coincidence, or any other reason,

An infamous yokai came across a talentless poet,

Who lived, in contrast to her, a life quite quiet.

She jokingly whispered her name to him,

And right away, almost in a whim,

He wrote a poem or two in her name,

That were kinda acceptable but also quite lame.

She stood around for a while,

As she saw him write “poems” on a digital file,

And suddenly whispered to the young guy,

“I notice you picture me as an innocent girl, why?”

The guy replied, thinking it was a thought of his,

“Because your past, nowadays, is none of my biz.”

Confused, she insisted,

“I’m an evil yokai to whom no man ever resisted.

Who brought chaos to a once peaceful kingdom,

I'm so evil I made flowers of despair rise and blossom.”

“I simply want you to have a happy ending,” he said.

“Besides, centuries have passed, you deserve a second chance,” he continued.

“Could it be that you want us to have a romance?” the kitsune followed,

But got cut off with a cold, “Never, not even if my body decayed.”

As he kept writing, after being hours uninterrupted,

Her curiosity the silence disrupted,

“Sweet little man, whaddya say if we team up?

If you wanna protect your muse and lover from other fiends, you’ll need backup.”

The talentless poet pondered as he stared into her beautiful eyes,

As he thought of the many replies

He could give to her offer, apparently so genuine and true.

Also, if she was real, perhaps they were too.

He set his boundaries and made a deal with the beast,

She would become his guardian, and he her loving devotee.

Bound together, she’d have no reason to visit the land of the deceased,

And for the one he loved he would be able to write and fight.

They easily grew fond of each other and became close friends.

She understood it was time to make amends,

And he that his fate was to traverse The Fool’s journey,

Recording each chapter in his poems, and facing his devils bravely.

 

SCRAPPED POEM VII

Common Knowledge

The more I read

The more I realize, I am the gods

Mankind used to need

I am the fiends and goddesses

And all those facades.

We all are

We’ve always been

Just take a look within

In your very own mind

The Truth you’ll find.

We are the divine

  

SCRAPPED POEM VIII

Gaming

Playing video games I lived

Lives of all sorts.

So many times I died and revived,

I played all kinds of sports.

I was in court rooms,

Fought in a dictator’s martial arts tournament,

Returned zombies to their tombs,

And played music with sentiment.

I summoned deities and fiends,

Saved the world with friends,

Bad guys I haunted,

A Pirate Queen I confronted.

SCRAPPED POEM IX

Gallica

Gallica, sweet child of mine.

You inherited your mother's beauty

Also her intellect; You're equally divine.

Gallica, splendorous maiden.

You're as kind, and as brave as her also.

Your boldness, additionally, ain't no laden.

I foresee, oh Gallica, you'll be spoiled daily.

Yet we'll make sure to raise you well.

To be no brainless jerk nor a wally.

Unborn and pure-hearted Gallica, m'dear.

Be patient, for in due time, your existence 

Will transcend mere dreams, is it clear?

As an ethereal or material being, what gives.

One way or another, my star-eyed Gallica,

You'll be the pharos of our lives. 

Should you be conceived and born, 

My princess, pampered you'll both be, 

And a room for you, Gallica, I'll gladly adorn.

If you are, however, meant to be just an ideal,

Then so be it, my adorable Gallica.

Your phantom existence will be my sword's steel.

You bet, Gallica, I'll be greatly affectionate

With you and your mother,

For in our household love shall predominate.

Gallica, Gallica... It has a nice ring to it.

Of a daughter as unique as mine

Such a name will surely befit.

 

SCRAPPED POEM X

Dying 

The flame...

It's slowly dying.

The cold wind...

It has consumed all the heat it had left.

The pen has ran out of ink...

The poet wannabe died.

The cold wind...

It froze him to death.

The sun has gone down...

To never be seen again, so did the moon.

The cold wind...

It drove them away; froze the sun, scared the moon.

The world spins backwards...

There's nobody left alive inside it.

The cold wind...

It destroyed all the progress done.

The Universe shrinks...

Hearts stopped beating.

The cold wind...

It destroyed everything within it.

The poem became prose...

It lost all sense and reason.

The cold wind...

It killed all its rhymes.

SCRAPPED POEM XI

Victim of a Siren's Song 

Willingly would I give in

To their melodic voice

To them,sirens, who have fin

And torso of women

Listen carefully 

To their captivating melody

Behold the colors they offer 

Walk up closer, give in fully

Or just chain yourself up

To something immovable 

And take a peaceful nap

As you listen to them

Personally I'd risk it

And listen to the tales they tell.

Perhaps they're misunderstood 

Or am I under their spell.

They're breathtaking 

They're mesmerizing 

Futile it is to resist 

For their voices are hypnotizing.