Atmosphere 16 - Eloquant Sources

Mood: Apprehensive
Sound Waves: MOVIN! by Takacha

Park bench

The crack etches of mahogany paint, applied only a few years back, were its only symbols of its integrity for holding a little longer for a century or so. The worksman knew this piece of curvish iron furniture had seen more than a box of fruit ever did. It even had the grandeu view of City Hall, just a few meters away between the lawn-mow friendly patch of snow.

As he observed the ancient artifact's many scars and markings (mainly a permanent heart with teenage love engraved and dents that managed to mar their way through the cold surface), the worker knew it had done its job quite to perfection.

The melancholic cooing of the flock of ruffled pigeons nearby and the scatterbrained chatter of a salad mix of children in their winter clothes was a nostalgic thing to see in this time of year. For one that has only depended on his leather case and silver watch for a mere twenty years, the worksman took in a whiff of the distant dead maple trees, the crushing steps his fancy shoes made in the pure, virgin snow, the foggy precipitation sending warning signals up his erect spine of another permanent day indoors.

The worksman's squinty eyes scanned the park with only the fading feeling of a longer summer, warming his conscious little by little from the ironcast cold.

Atmosphere 15 - Broken Nail

Mood: Angered

Sound Waves: SIX Feelings by Junichi Suwabe

"Besides smiling, name another way people express happiness"

I can make an upside down rainbow 

Burst into candy rain, sweetened with

The exuberance of delightful radiance.

I can share my lungful jubilee

To others around me

And it'll infect them so much, they'll

Cry tears of mirth for trying to resist.

I can communicate my own body to

Signify the felicitous euphoria

Through these limbs of self-control.

Let them break its bonds and let them

Feel what it is meant by the universal shout.

Whatever feeling I have that wants to be heard

I shall make itself known.

Then, there are some that don't even show the inside

Of their spiral-shaped shells, afraid of

What little they can offer.

To receive is to give.

With just gently rocking someone's perseverance,

A world is driven back from a forgiving cause.

Atmosphere 14 - Waste of Emotions

Mood: Kind of Lonely

Sound Waves: Fuyu No Hanabi - Gin Ichimaru & Rangiku Matsumoto

Roses Still Red

How long has it been since the feeling

I didn't want to have, suddenly start

Stuttering and making a complete fool

Out of myself?

I didn't know that the long awaited

Feelings of suffering accusations

Would hurt me this bad

I knew there was something wrong with

The picture consisting of a green

Hearted girl, silver haired boy

I have given away whatever hope I

Had believed I obtained 

Knowing that the dead feeling still

Wants to be noticed.

How selfless can I get?

Amosphere 13 - Misty

Mood: Depressed
Sound Waves: News From The Front by Bad Religion

Desperation

Judged only by her DNA samples and false prayers

All they really see is the surface of her crimes

She can bloom only in the frozen rays of the sun

Smiling only when the ice needs to break.

Nobody knows if she is steadily

Drowning in the rain's embrace

Or wishing the minature figurine

Of a past she would want to forget but

Couldn't from the averting eyes.

The rain lets off

and she's the only one overlooking the happy ongoers of Earth

An angel?

Atmosphere 12 - Caffeine

Mood: Drained

Sound Waves: LIFE by YUI

Oil Smell (the small restaurant)

First thing I notice: the chairs and tables.

What I can yank back from yesterday

Is that the table top's pattern didn't

Look the same. (Or... maybe it was

Just the November chill getting into my nerves.)

I smell the sizzling oil of

Bubbling fast food, served warm

On sensational smelling salted

Ceramics. I can hear the crisp

Crunch of earth-tiled flooring and

Quick transactions to visitors

Old and new, all the same, all diverse.

The eyes try to drink the familiar 

Images in, but can't bring up any

Fonder memories, since the last time

They visited.

Atmosphere 11 - Fortuna

Mood: Gloomy

Sound Waves: Boats and Birds by Gregory and the Hawk

Lucky (A series)

Scrub out all the grime on top of

The dusty, fleshy cabinet.

The reddened sky, knife etched graffiti

Will be rid tonight.

So she says that she'll meet

Him first, not steadily recognizing

The stinging slap of the other's

Poison deep covetousness.

The fortunate bastard; Thinks that 

Whatever comes to mind, should

Be chiseled into his planned epitaph.

And there goes turned faces and beliefs.

What if they broke up? What if

There was already a gaping hole

In the presumed elastic fabric?

At least someone's listening.

Why me, you ask?

Instead, do tell:

Why you? It is not

Any different.

Atmosphere Air 10 - Snapshots

Mood: Lonely/Productive
Sound Waves: Always With Me in the Spirited Away Soundtrack

Series of Short Poems

~~

The Hitman

He is a tall dark stranger, lulling whoever

He sees with his trance-like gaze

He has skin glistening with rave music

And alcohol-poisoned streaks

He has a voice that burns inside my veins--

The one that denies he's already flirted

With the social butterflies, but hasn't

Retrieved all of the pollen from a certain

Wallflower in the sidelines.

I could hear it among the beats of

Wailing voices

Wanting something out from this night

Of limited seduction.

He has caught me, where he wants me

To be.

He's lit up some interior stove I

Never knew I had installed there.

Amid the shouts of unwanted want,

Much needed desire

Its selfish but all five senses are

Broken

This man has taken contrl of what I

Still have left of me.

The thrill-filled part of it all--

I don't want to break this

Given, blessed chance

"One look could kill. My pain, your thrill"

~~

The Bridesmaid and Admirer

-bridesmaid:

Why am I always a bridesmaid,

Never the blushing bride?

Ding! Dong! Wedding bells

Always ring for other gals

But one fine day--

Please let it be soon--

I shall wake up in the morning

On my own honeymoon.

-admirer:

You're a beauty, saved up for the better

That bride may look happy, but you will too.

Bing! Bong! Wedding bells

May ring for other gals

But you'll look forward to it

You're not a girl who'd quit

You'll wake up every morning

In your own special honeymoon.

~~

Trust

This isn't a new, heavy-weighted feeling

That is invisible to the eye but

Painstakenly there in the blue

Pale shadows hang out eerily

Over shuddering shoulders, ripping

Away with streams carved out from

False claims.

No signs have informed strangers

That there is something incresingly wrong

Underneath that hollow-eyed smile

The screams echo and bounc playfully

Making their circumference around the

Victims and victimizers

"You've lost the fight"

"You're useless"

"Hopeless"

"Nothing to gain"

Always written in verbal form, its

Always, always, the victimizer's fault

You want to be helped?

Why aren't you helping me?

Because....you're different

And thus, tis why burning bridges

Fails to annihilate the feelings

Still holding the gun towards

Your frightened mind.

When will I be forgiven for

Whatever I've done?

Will these tears, even spoken out of

The defence stand, say what

I cannot anymore?

~~

Hillside (an 'epilogue' to Trust)

I shouldn't presume anymore

Otherwise I'll constantly spin about

In my lonesome teacup for one

Ancd watch in misery the people

I know who care but

Obviously want to be with

Better, more imaginative people.

This is selfish desires to

Be popular,

Not some childish want of

Being part of the happy

Fruits basket of high school.

Always with me, only my heart.

I say goodbye to whatever childhood I

Would've been glad to live in.

But instead, I dream

This unreachable cloud of tear-soaked

Dreams.