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Sometimes, [Akayume] and [Linderel] write poetry together. They also give each other word prompts. These are the fruits of that labour.

Collaborations

     1.

Smooth down the surface
of this silvery creation;
dip a finger in, then another,
and see how the ripples
transform the moonlight
into something new.
Chimeras have the souls
we grant them,
so let us do the same.
Dance on the warm,
still-glowing embers of an
old existence—
wriggle into your new skin,
no matter how deadly it breathes.

You can be silver too—
steel cold and iron-wrought.
Nothing can penetrate your soul,
if you haven't got one to lose.

Prompt responses

(prompt words underlined)



The genesis of my anxiety
this exterior spine of grace,
is falling softly
upward, lifting my being -
denying the demands of gravity.
Call it what you will,
this act of faith;
to fly without wings.
No blemished cloud
or blind acrobat here
can court my heart.

I will traipse the stars.

Written by [Akayume] on 19 August 2011


Think not that it is cumbersome
to live, or laugh, or love, or die—
waste not your last breath on a sigh.
Let us have no regrets, o captain!
The tide is soon to wash away
what secrets lie within this bay
and lead us to rest in the sea's embrace.

Written by [Linderel] on 1 December 2011


Please turn your lust
in the other direction.
You, with your stereotypical
male model physique
and teeny tiny brain
could never understand what I see
in what you would probably term
"the scum of humanity".
Things were not always thus.
Once, you played me
like a cheap fiddle,
but without a musician's pride—
always stowing me away in the corner
whenever someone might hear.
No more, I say, no more;
my heart is for the scum now.

Written by [Linderel] on 1 December 2011


I have a dense soul.
It sags in my ribcage,
causing a lumbering body
and a groggy heart—
But it's all I've ever known.
There's no light or love here—
only slime.
I'm sick inside,
but there's no cure for self-loathing.
If I were to fall in the ocean
my sea of regrets would swallow
me whole,
and my soul would drag me
by my ribcage
to the depths.

Written by [Akayume] on


We watched a movie once.
"The halves that half you in half"
a British girl wrote.
It haunts me.
You are my half and
your absence is blowing my
entirety asunder.
There won't be even a morsel, a strand of my being
left behind, when you're finished.
My half,
halving me
into nothing.

Written by [Akayume] on


I will burgeon into a monster.
I will tear these arms
and I will cut these legs
and I will scratch this face
until I know, intimately...
until I can fathom what real suffering is.
Once I whispered,
"One day—
I will know the true meaning of suffering."
Engender I will these feelings
to my ragged soul.
But that won't change a thing, will it?

Written by [Akayume] on


I flicker, I glow,
becoming like snow
in this melted tundra
of ice and hearts.
I smile, I cry
my soul is a sty
for debauchery
and pockets of thyme
and nonsensical things
as such.

Written by [Akayume] on