qdesjardin: (Default)
2015-03-03 12:30 am
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Wither (At Relationship's End)

I remember once, when it used to be Summer,
I shared with you my secrets and memories,
and all my deepest carnal desires
of sin and beauty and pleasure.

Even little moments blossom into poignant memories,
when I shared them with you, heart to heart.

But as the seasons changed, and sadness
rose from the horizons,

You grew distant, like the rainbow which disappears
as soon as one tries to get closer.

The leaves crumbled and the trees grew barren,
and the familiar scenery eroded into
a hollow shell of that warmth and lushness
I once tasted with you.

Winter came, and I see you've found that happiness
without me,
and I, in all my shame,
could only stare as if caught behind a glass window,

lest I wither you away from my touch.

It is hard to admit defeat,
but the truth is - it's better to be the one letting go,
than be the one who's let go of,
like an old branch falling off the tree.

Sometimes, I wonder if it's better to numb
your heart to the feelings that once were,
instead of absorbing pain from the happiness
which once was,

but then I realise, it once was, instead of it never was.

Perhaps, trudging forth to the future that holds no assurances,
I may find a new happiness,
keeping you close in my memories.

qdesjardin: (Default)
2014-05-22 12:45 pm
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The Darkness

The Darkness - by QDesjardin

In the darkness of your room
lying in bed
your eyes open,

Emptiness envelops you
The wistful air
and the orange glimmering light

Your breaths rattle
in and out

Your heart beats steadily on,
That eternal ticking clock
unwinding inevitably towards

In the darkness of your room
lying in bed
your eyes close.

Hiding away behind the shelter of dreams.

qdesjardin: (Default)
2014-05-22 12:44 pm
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A Day in the Daily Life of Lulu

A Day in the Daily Life of Lulu - by QDesjardin

C'est moi! Lulu!

Lulu woke up feeling dappy,
Lulu is alright.
Lulu eats a candy cane,
and that candy makes her tummy feel rumbly!

Lulu travelled to work today,
Lulu feels fatigued.
Work is surely so boring meng,
Why can't we play instead?

Lulu's zippy pants went missing,
Lulu was eating lunchon;
Her zippy pants went all way around the world,
and came back as dirt and shambles!

Oh non!

How Lulu treasures her petite pants!

So Lulu gave her pants a washing,
"Rum-rum!" the washing maschine goes~!
It's such a pleasant sound to hear,
the sound of her clothes getting clean!

Lulu eats some popcorn while she waits,
The popcorn pops in her poppy mouth,
as she hop, skip, jumps over the dirty laundry
of other people sitting dully reading D. E. Laurance's poetry.

Now Lulu feels tired today,
Lulu wants to sleep.
Lulu made her own bed
and tucked herself in at night.

My, how the stars shine so brightly tonight!
She wishes she could stay up longer,
but sleep is the most important meal of the day,
so Lulu bids thee "Goodnight."

qdesjardin: (Default)
2014-05-22 12:41 pm
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Beyond the Clouds

Beyond the Clouds -- by QDesjardin

In the face of a cold, sometimes harrowing world
when places can turn grey and people
would lose all heart
(and it seems like all the magic is beyond reach)

you'd close your eyes and forget this accursed moment,
forget that gravity exists and forget the aching
and instead see the light-hearted, carefree blue
of that beautiful heaven, you could see
while lying upon the summer meadows

and if you'd wanted, Swan's wings would carry you
into mid-air, and you'd embrace the weightlessness
as if that stomachache were to disappear and instead
replaced with those fluttering
Cerelian butterflies, which arrive in those innocent days

when you saw an Angel sitting in the bleachers
beside you, but you couldn't muster yourself
to talk to her (you could only gaze)

or when you went outside one day for a walk,
and your heart could not help melting
looking at the wisps of clouds above
and realising it looked like the misty bottom
of a waterfall, its motion slowed thousandfold for clarity,

And in the midst of dream and memories,
there you see her, having waited for you,
and she beckons you to come,

Alors! you walk together, through the forest's leaves,
and across the shimmering river,
lit by moonlight,

There, she leans in and tells you with a whisper,
"I know why you cry,
and I know that happiness grows scarce;
but just think of me, and I will be there."

And when you open your eyes, it doesn't seem so grey, does it?

qdesjardin: (Default)
2014-05-22 12:31 pm
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At Rainbow's End

At Rainbow's End --

Follow me to where the Colours are,
See the Red Passions aroused in your blood,
The Sanguine Yellows that brighten your days,
Those Lively Greens that peak in Summer's grace,
The Sky Blue gleaning Heavenly face,
(with clouds that puff and tuffle
like the hazy bellows of a waterfall's bottom)
And Violet, sweet Violet,
Who tenderly caresses your cheek and lips

As you chase after the sunset
And the last of its light and warmth
Before the Earth swallows the Sun whole,
And your involuting heart cries out
Savagely for Mother's nourishing eternal love
While the landscape is loveless, spiteful, and shit
With the occasional kindness
A mere if ephemeral substitute.

Don't you want to follow me to where the Rainbow ends?

qdesjardin: (Default)
2014-05-22 12:30 pm
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The Nature of Beauty

If Beauty were such a thing that is as commonplace as the iPad is now, surely people would swoon in their hearts - drinking the precious feeling in. But people don't. Many of those around you continue to live Life, each moment at a time, from waking to sleeping. Maybe you do too. (Do you take it for granted?) 

But never does this mean that Beauty is rare. A rare commodity, a luxury like gold in fairy tales. Never will it mean that Beauty will die. It is like air - everywhere, invisible to material sight, not something that you grasp, and when you learn to relax and breathe it.. it fills your heart with that nectar and then your heart blossoms, alive and full. Fulfilled. Meaningfully fulfilled.

It is there when you glance at these brown eyes. It is there when you fall passionately into those lips, when your feet dance to the rhythm, when you're pouring your words out for anyone. That flow. It's also there when you stare (out the windows) at that blue sky we sit under; that blue, blue sky, so endless and radiant beyond feeling. I love it especially when it is evening, and you see another depth to the sky's character - the oranges, violets and pinks show their face upon the clouds. As you may watch the lightbulb descend until it disappears beneath the ground-- have you ever asked how a sunset feels?

The sunset as you swing in the playground, legs kicking for more momentum, the rush, and that secret desire of letting yourself fly suddenly into heaven.

The sunset, with you sitting atop the hill, caressed by your lover's embrace.

The sunset, as you cry alone in soulful solitude, and you glance at the fading sun for a consolation that will never come.

I love.

But when you do see it.. and try to bring it to anyone else - those flat-earthers who only know the joys of rooting themselves in mundanity - those Lucky Charms are only cornflakes. And cornflakes are just meant to be eaten, yes? Yes. Yet somewhere inside, your heart can't help feeling a little.. sad. Icarus's wings of fortune turns out to be nothing more substantial than wax and feathers, and when he flies too close to the sun, they melt.

"Why don't you understand?"

And for some, that desire to show Beauty's existence, can turn into a lust for madness. There is but a thin line between the mystical dreamer and the fantastical crank, and it carries an aloofness when you try to express or explain Music in non-musical terms. How do you mean, what is falling in love? I love the hair, I love the personality, but that isn't it. I love you for that beautiful soul, connecting these disjointed elements -- notes into a wholesome melody. I love that you have existed for me, showing me a glance of beauty that I can cherish. I love that I have even existed for you, having endured the process of getting born for this moment.

And when you do speak it out loud, you find yourself being the voice of the alone crying into an indifferent wilderness. A one-sided conversation risking confusion at best and getting utterly mocked at worst. That is Beauty: symbolic, eternal, and unintelligible. The language you'd speak is not commonly spoken - in all its subjectivity. The madman can only confess or pronounce. "Fish fish fish fish fish. Infinity is but the expanding and shrinking boundaries of the end. Red fish blue fish green fish goldfish."

This entails the greater yearning: can you bring this Beauty truly over, for all to experience? If you can, that is great. I imagine it would be more than great. Do show them what they have missed. Show them the electric charge in the air, and the killing realisation to their awareness. Show them the profound in the mundane. What those two Italian ladies are singing about, you don't know. You don't want to know.. are they singing about something so beautiful, that it makes your heart ache because of it? I tell you, these voices will soar higher and farther than anybody in a gray place might dare to dream. Like some beautiful bird has flapped into a drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, if only briefly.

Show them that other world which might exist only in the heart. In that world, crossing the boundaries of time, death and probability, imagination lets you reunite with..

And that's beautiful.

qdesjardin: (Default)
2014-05-22 12:29 pm
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Grow Old with Me

Grow old with me, my Love
With a hand in hand by the evening sun
Grow old with me, my Love
Watch the sunset fade and darkness come.

Grow old with me, my Love
Our children scatter by with a romp
Grow old with me, my Love
See them live and die under Time's glomp.

Grow old with me, my Love
Age cannot wither you, this tender heart
Grow old with me, my Love
No regrets need be ever made.


And when you're old with me, meine Liebe
I'll be happy I grew old with you
And when you're old with me, meine Liebe
Someday, somewhere, we'll shine together.