[x]

Machine ManMachine Man:

It began with but a simple command, "to do as we are told".

Never to deviate from this path - never to nurture the soul.

We are told that we are given a purpose; "a part of something great!"

Yet why oh why am I so weary of that which is my fate?

Am I an error, a single anomaly, unable to feel intact?

Or am I missing some special attribute - a facet which I lack.

In a society made of fleshed machines; robots wearing skin,

Perhaps I'm simply seeking something, to fill this metal tin.

-Chen Yuan Wen, 16th November 2012

An Oath to My FatherAn Oath to My Father:

The chill of winter is nothing, when compared to the cold inside my heart.

A fire, once stoked by the warmth of family, has quietly died, five falls past.

I dream of my father, who watches from beyond the realms - and my ancestors

Who fought against an endless army of giants, to win the lands we have today.

Just as a devout man honours his God through worship, I honour them through my axe!

Each stroke of the whetstone, each screech of the metal, brings me closer to them -

Even as I draw closer to my doom. Oh how I can feel him, for the anger in my blood

Boils evermore as I sense him approaching my camp. He is hun

A Special Happy BirthdayA Special Happy Birthday:

Your birthday is a special day,
It comes but once a year.
And so I've made this little poem
For those that I hold dear.

You've lived and grown another year
And now you've come of age.
It is time for you to show yourself
Upon this worldly stage.

Some are artists, some are troops
Some are sportsmen throwing hoops.
Some are writers, some are bad,
Some might be the best we've had

Others are fixers, others will fax
A gamer might use some mighty hacks;
There is a plethora of choices for you,
So do what in your heart is true.

But for today let us just have fun
Rock the world and then be done.
For a birthd

Practice Poem - Poor Little TimmyPractice Poem - Poor Little Timmy:

Down into well, poor Timmy fell,
Down he fell into the pits of hell.
Brought into hell by an eldritch spell,
Poor little Timmy who fell down the well.

Alone he cowered and shivered and shook,
He shook for hours, so long it took,
So long it took for him to feel well,
Well enough to explore this hell...

Through pathways littered with scenes most gory;
Most gory indeed was little Timmy's story,
A story of fear and suffering defined,
Poor little Timmy, he ran out of time...

Now then, I think I'll go welcome my little guest...

-Chen Yuan Wen, 14th December 2012

They Watch UsThey Watch Us:

Perched high upon the mountains;
With wings as black as night.
They watch us in the hour,
Before darkness turns to light.

I've seen them in my visions;
In dreams they come and go,
But the things they seem to tell me
I guess nobody should know...

I've seen children that are buried,
Beneath a frozen lake.
A maiden sits there weeping;
Her heart is soon to break.

The crows flutter downward,
A noose amongst their hands.
They take the maiden away,
To a dark and distant land.

And even if I follow -
Even if I try...
I'll simply end up buried,
Where the frozen children lie.

-Chen Yuan Wen, 10th November 2012

Waking NightmaresWaking Nightmares:

It begins in the same way, every single night
Fire spreading from an altar in the darkness—
As all living beings are slowly consumed,
The coruscating flames appear wet with blood…

The scene then changes to a flooded hallway
Live wires dangling just above the water,
Like venomous serpents slithering in the darkness—
A single pounce would end my life…

Eventually the hallway ends with a door,
One that reminds me of forgotten yore—
And my thoughts shall be in rhyme at this point
As though lips and tongue are eternally joint…

What maddened schemes have they in mind?
It is not a questio

DishonouredDishonoured:

He stands before the adoring crowd,
Basking in their cheers and standing ovation.
But he has already been dishonoured -
By means of his perverse innovation.

For none could know of the dark secret;
About the art that he claims to be his own.
It is naught but an illusion, smoke and mirrors -
A theft for which he must atone...

But this disgusting creature, this worthless abhuman;
So desperate for the glory which he sees upon the stage!
Will quietly don the skin of another;
An urge he must assuage...

Biting his nails, a cracked smile upon his lips, he whispers:
"No one will know, no one will find it and I am great..."

I Comfort MyselfWith a warm drink, whispering secrets to my own reflection.

The struggles that plague me, though none may know,

Are only for the ears of my quiet mirror, who smiles

Softly, warmly and with care. He tells me, I'm fine

I've done well for now and soon I may finally rest.

Though the silence continues to press upon me,

Weighing upon my soul like an iron crate.

Still I find comfort in whispering secrets,

If only to my own reflection - holding a warm drink...

-Chen Yuan Wen, 17th October 2012

FEARFEAR:

Frantically he scrambles away from the dark
Eager to be free of his waking nightmare
Acting only upon the instinct within him;
Reminded constantly that he is prey

For some time he hides in the pervasive shadows—
Earnestly praying that he will not be discovered
A single sound is all it takes to jar him;
Running from a creature that he can barely see

From head to toe it is certainly monstrous
Enshrouded in an aura of absolute repugnance
As the acid drips from its cruel jaws,
Rapidly dissolving the ground below

Fearful, he cowers, beneath boxes and cardboard,
Escaping away into a tiny corner of his mind
Alone with only

Alone but AliveAlone but Alive:

Oh here I am standing,
A lost soul is landing.

The coldest December,
Can you still remember?

Do you even hear me?
There's no one around me!

Oh shadow that I see,
The void right behind me.

Yet still I am breathing;
Yet still I am feeling.

The coldest sensation,
Oh worthless creation!

Are you still crying?
Oh why are you lying - abandoned and cold

-

Cold like what was left of soul,
Made of all the life you stole.
Walk divine but made of sin,
Worm of hatred squrim within.

Sin of lust and sin of pride,
Lash the tongue that last has lied.
Yours was silver with a promise,
Kiss of death and then you vomit.

Bu

This is for the ReaderThis is for the Reader:

With the soft touch of his fingers
The piano begins to play, a heart untouched for so long
Bares its secret melody...

-

When I first started out I couldn't avoid just bein' cold
My life revolved the things that I was always told—
I never knew the warmth of standing up to take a bow
It was not a joy that I would ever-ever be allowed
Through all the days I feared that everything would disappear
You held me up and held me close like I was something dear
I never knew I had a part of me that you would like
I guess that's what you feel when you can't even see the light…

-

So this is the only way, that

My Beautiful FilthMy Beautiful Filth:

We'll start with the rose petals
scattered lavishly across the bed
A symbolic collage of my broken thoughts
like memories crushed and thrown into the winds
they lie where they fall, forever forgotten...

Tacks and nails shall line the floor!
A perfect representation of my painful steps
To walk forward was to suffer
to stand still was to endure
Like the insults thrown at me, like the physical abuse
they drive their way into my skin and remain embedded
Unable to be removed except by force

And now comes the masterpiece, the perfect finishing touch
A wall of words and photographs depicting my sorrows and greivance

This is Halloween!This is Halloween:

Boys and girls of every age
Wouldn't you like to see something strange?

Come with me and you will see
The friends I've hung down from this tree...

This is Halloween, this is Halloween
Corpses scream in the dead of night!

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene
Trick or treat till the neighbors gonna die of fright.
It's our town, everybody scream!
In this town of Halloween...

I am the one hiding under your bed;
Licking your hand with a tongue so red and -

I am the one crawling up your stairs,
Thump-thump-drag, when no one's there...

This is Halloween, this is Halloween

Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Hallo

Practice Poem - Artistic FrustrationPractice Poem - Artistic Frustration:

Wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG!
Everything is wrong.
'As then sun dew drips from her eyes'-
Do I really think that'll be good enough?

Hours spent on each piece -
Punctuated only by sound of ripping paper -
To lie crumpled upon my wooden floor,
Unable to be forgotten.

As the hours pass and the day wears on,
More and more worlds are crushed by my hands.
Realities sprawled upon a single piece of paper,
To die as quickly as they are formed.

A man's whose romance is torn in two,
A vampire about to meet his prey.
A werewolf standing against an army
And a boy facing the world alone.

These are the li

She's Not Your ToyShe's Not Your Toy:

Mmm, it's okay sweetie
Just stay quiet
It'll all be over soon...

Creaking springs and quiet eyes
Cold without emotion
The smell of fear is mixed with sweat
Breath like a churning ocean

The waves and tide will push and pull
as water fills the cave
The heart longs to stop itself
when there is nothing left to save

Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear Jenna
Happy birthday to you...

A shock of pain brings her back to the present
The muscular form above her contracting in the dark
She remembers now that her limbs are pinned
but she would not move them anyway...

Happy birthday sweeth

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A Polished White SinkA Polished White Sink:

If I had to call this world a blessing;
I think I'd say 'I find it damn depressing.'
You might think I'm stupid from how I'm dressing,
But this is just the heart I feel like wearing.

I see street corners and absent youth;
Don't pretend you don't ever see the night.
Cause when it turns dark, the maggots start crawling;
Looks like God decided to shut out the light.

I can warm my hands on fire and watch the people go,
They don't know who I am, I just go with the flow.
I see streets that seem empty, clogged to the brink;
But that's the reality deep beneath the sink.

It looks clean on the outside, polished porcelain whit

A Game We Hate to Play:A Game We Hate to Play:

I stand amongst a screaming crowd,
And you'll hear them shout it out.
"All this shit just isn't fair,
Life's a game but we don't care!"

-

Hear me, do you think I'm lazy?
When I talk I'm crazy,
Sorry I'm just hazy, but I-
Still think that I'm like Jay-Z
Rappin' here with Stacy;
The boys they call her baby; Haha...

And we're playin' this song for the killers,
The ones with no hope workin' shop at the tillers.

And if you think that we're just the fillers,
You wouldn't be wrong; we're just grain at millers - haha!

-

All this shit just isn't fair,
Life's a game but we don't care!
We're gonna change the game tonight,

These Tears Would Come:These Tears Would Come:

If my tears could tell a story of two -

What would they have to say about you?

Of a boy who spent his whole life seeking

And a girl who found it in the arms of another…

Would they tell us of laughter? Beneath a starlit sky,

Or of harsh words exchanged on bitter nights.

Would they speak of moments, so beautifully captured;

To be enjoyed in memory, like a perfect wine.

Or perhaps they would tell us of an untampered truth:

Of the lonely nights spent longing, for an Eden lost.

Captivated, habituated, to this lonely habit of you;

For her alone, these tears would come.

-Chen Yuan Wen, 31st march 2013

Dark Sadistic Muse:Dark Sadistic Muse:

I seat myself before the computer,
With fingers poised over fading keys.
Eagerly awaiting my latest epic;
Yet frozen by a lack of inspiration.

Here I sit, staring at the blank document.
The dark background mirroring the world behind me.
I swallow hard as my body locks;
Hairs tense as I sense her arrival...

Slender fingers soon wrap themselves around my throat.
With claw-like nails digging in painfully,
They prick the skin that lies just beneath my Adam’s apple;
Leaving me nursing a rather painful necklace.

"Your hands aren't moving," she coos softly,
Her clawed fingers gently stroking my chin.
"Why is that, I won

These Hands Are So Red...These Hands Are So Red...

These hands are now red and so slicked with this blood,

I can't even wash it in a basin of mud...

As I scrape at the skin of those demons I chase,

I am left with a smile mixed with pain on my face.

Since I swore I would savour this blatant disgrace,

Let perversion be writ in these scars I will trace.

From the tip of my shoulders to the base of my tongue,

Are the names of those sleepers so cold and so young...

-Chen Yuan Wen, 15th March 2013

We Poets Are Frustrated...We Poets Are Frustrated...

I am sure that you have all experienced this feeling:
A masterpiece eclipsed by the baying of a brat!
A raucous rhyme, so emotionally raw;
Shadowed by a child's melancholia...

Alone in the darkness, you lick your lips and growl.
Your anger, so evidently understandable; yet you forget your own abilities!
In despair, my dearest sibling, you have forgotten — yourself

Why fear an obstacle so easily overcome?
Why shred your works with such heavy tears?
Have you forgotten that we are the original craftsman?
Our tongues birthed as our chisels and axe!
We need only take these simple themes
And corrupt them with all

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Submitted: November 4, 2012
File Size: 2.5 KB
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Sensual Torture

by *WordOfChen, Nov 4, 2012, 8:35:50 AM
Literature / Poetry / Horror / Free Verse

Sensual Torture:

You are but a simple pawn;
Caught in a maelstrom of ill feelings and turmoil.
You were not meant to be here -
But unfortunately, here you are my friend...

Now then, I do not wish to drag this out;
There is no purpose in badgering someone who knows so little.
However - without your confession - I'm afraid that
I would not know whom I should share my - pleasures with...

Though I'm certain that you will be sharing plenty...

Of course, it will probably be a poor idea to make you scream,
At least not while I'm still enjoying your fear.
Instead we'll begin with a simple agony;
A quick taste of your pain to whet my appetite...

We'll begin with just a thin incision,
One that is made in the center of both your eyelids.
And then, then we'll make another cut - this one just above the eyes...

Ah, I will adore the feeling of watching your skin peel apart
As the scalpel bites in and draws it aside; much like the curtain
Set upon a theatre stage. It is the signal for our show to begin.

The pain and the pressure of blinking with torn eyelids
Will most likely force you to scrunch up your entire face.
And as you endure this agonizing trial, the first droplet of blood
Will slowly ride down toward your wounded eyes;
A gentle river of red, flowing down your skin.

It will eventually fall against your Sclera, searing it, burning it
It will make you blink and shiver with pain as your body jerks and convulses.
An endless cycle of discomfort and suffering, as that which should relieve it
Perpetuates it for an eternity...

That my friend, is when you truly realise what I can do with you
That is when you will pray to your gods for release; but none will come.
And I shall enjoy every moment of watching your mind break
As I gently and tenderly lick the cold sweat away from your neck.

The taste of fear, the gasps of air that are locked within your lungs;
A sensual torture that is beyond imagining. This pain, this pleasure
Is my gift to you. It is my art, my worship and my devotion
To the Lady whom I serve eternally.

Now tell me my dearest Bishop:

"Where is the temple keeping my loving queen Morgana?"

-Chen Yuan Wen, 3rd November 2012

Sensual Tortureby *WordOfChen

Literature / Poetry / Horror / Free Verse

Please take a moment to fave my work, it adds to my popularity ranking and really let's me know you've enjoyed my work ^^

If you'd like to hear me read this poem LIVE and do a little comedy then then check out episode 4 of my live show here: [link]

Author's Comment:

Arrr maties, this be me last official poem before me hiatus (I may still write on some days t' take a break). I'll be back full time on the 20th of November with another comeback episode on the 21st (where I'll do multiple readings of poems).

Anyway, about this poem itself. It's actually a scene preview for the story I'll be working on over the summer, containing an ALL NEW writing format that I've created. It's a Chen-style format and it will allow me to combine first-person and third-person writing. Want to see it? It's coming!

The scene I used is actually the main protagonist (though he's a villain) of the series, torturing one of the temple's Bishops. This character, Lin'Chen the Necromancer, is a dark and clearly sadistic individual with deep knowledge of pain. I mean common devices like thumb screws and the rack are all nice, but this is something you can do just by strapping someone in a chair and keeping them tied down. He prefers an elegant torture, because pain is an art and inflicting it is worship/devotion.

To those who requested the really sadistic darkness, I hope that this satisfies you. I certainly enjoyed writing it mmm...

Pirate accent will also be back on the 21st wh00

-Captain Chenbeard o' th' Black Fedora Pirates

Other Poems by Me:

There are Things Beneath the GardenThere Are Things Beneath the Garden:

~

There are things beneath the garden,
Which you really shouldn't see.

There are things beneath the garden,
That don't belong to me.

There are things beneath the garden,
Gone rotten blue and black.

There are things beneath the garden,
In a dripping gunny sack...

~

There are flowers in the garden,
Which you really shouldn't pull.

There are flowers in the garden,
That sit on top of wool.

There are flowers in the garden,
With a really rotten scent.

There are flowers in the garden,
Above bodies burnt and bent...

~

I love this little garden,
It's a special place to me.

I love this little g

Other Literature by Me:

Mercenary 1-1MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si

Critique by ~luneta-star Nov 26, 2012, 12:24:28 PM

Wow, this is simply beautiful. I first clicked on it thinking it would be romantic but I actually rather prefer this than what I had in mind. The way you wrote the "skin peeling apart" drew me into the poem. It made me imagine myself in that position: the position of an inevitable death. The originality of the story is definalty that. I've only read one of your other stories but I can tell that you are an amazing writer.

I really enjoyed reading it and I hope that you will continue to write more dark themed poems.

-Genesis Marsh

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5 out of 7 deviants thought this was fair.

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Critique by =Keko-Meko Nov 4, 2012, 4:39:01 PM

I must say, this is one truly amazing piece of work. As a poet (though not one nearly as good), I immediately fell into the scenario. It was easy and almost frightening to be able to place myself as the helpless victim, doomed for a merciless, taunting death.

I greatly admire your technique and writing style. I'm very picky about how one goes about wording their poetry, and this certainly exceeded my picky-ness.

Awesome job! Please, keep writing. I like being able read words and actions that are nearly tangible. I also liked the way you added the narrator's thoughts in this. It gave a great sense of insight.

- KeKo

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20 out of 23 deviants thought this was fair.

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love 7 7

joy 6 6

wow 8 8

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

fear 3 3

~~neutral 0 0~~

~SlugLady28 Jan 17, 2013 General Artist

Dark and disturbing. I got shivers O_O Fantastic!

*WordOfChen Jan 18, 2013 Professional Writer

Thank ye fer enjoyin' it ^^ I'm very glad ye liked it :3

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

~EvanescentiFantasmi Jan 2, 2013 Hobbyist

Sadistic poetry accompanied with a story?
I love you

*WordOfChen Jan 5, 2013 Professional Writer

Bwahaha, me thanks fer enjoyin' me work. I do appreciate it ^^

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

~EvanescentiFantasmi Jan 5, 2013 Hobbyist

Ye be welcome, Captain o' mine C:

-...'Tis being o' mine has no title to bare....how about Rookie?

*WordOfChen Jan 6, 2013 Professional Writer

Aye, if ye wish t' be a rookie then ye can be one as ye please. However a rookie should be helpin' their Captain and soooo. Here's some self-promotion:

T'would really help me out if ye visited me e-book's publication page and liked or shared it. If ye want t' sample it as well, ye can read the first 15% o' the book free.

Here be th' link (^_^)> [link]

Thank ye

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

!iliveasidream Dec 26, 2012

Your poetry is so bland and pretentious that I'm going to hang myself.

*WordOfChen Jan 5, 2013 Professional Writer

Please do :3 It would be excellent writing material ^^

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

~Dragkor Dec 19, 2012

This was... Creepy... Beautiful... Paradoxically good. I fear i'm started being addicted to your poems, and worse! Soon, after i had seen all of them, i will have to wait for more T.Y.

*WordOfChen Jan 5, 2013 Professional Writer

Please feel free to get as addicted as you like, I'll be doing them everyday now :3

All to promote my e-book *___*

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

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