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Memories of WarMemories of War:

What is this long-lost memory inside?
Where oceans turn; what have we left behind
With star-burned wings out above the sky.
The sleeping sons are lovingly left to lie...

A thousand tears you've cried for all,
Now its time for you to fall!
Will you open up the door,
To the future we ignore?

Are you simply lying broken,
From the memory awoken;
Are you simply living lies,
Bitter taste with ropes you tie...

And the world will soon forget.

Fill my heart with this regret?

For the victims written in stone.

Unspoken sin you now atone...

Yeah I've seen this world where we livin' in pain,
Wrap my body round with chain

Tired, Exhausted, DrainedTired, Exhausted, Drained:

I am bloody exhausted! Drained to the core of my soul.

I wake up every morning with bags; burning ever deeper into my eyes.

Sunken masses of flesh, reminding me that the dreamscape -

One in which I sought refuge; is now buried where it lies.

Yet still I force myself to trudge through this wilderness.

Forever caught in a moon drenched, delusory twilight.

An endless cycle of failure and renewed hope;

Giving rise to the very stubbornness that defines me.

-Chen Yuan Wen, 5th February 2013

Poetic Practice - Love Like AshPoetic Practice - Love Like Ash:

Yes sir, he is clinging to insanity.
He remembers all the things he said, profanity.
Bare the shame on his naked old humanity.
He is the doll claiming love for his vanity-

When he woke up, desire!
He made a move like fire.
His whispers; a liar,
His heart snaps, like wire!

But what are you thinking of this man as I make him out?
Is it an image or a type that you seem to tout.
was it all his fault with no one else to blame,
Or were there cracks in the story that they both will claim-

Spit that and live that,
Hate when you love that!
You rip that and tear that,
Scream like you know that!

Stop for

Counting All the VoicesCounting All The Voices:

How many voices choose to speak; a debate within my head.

As I lie awake, counting cracks, on the wall above my bed.

I seem to think of random colours and things you've never seen.

But I don't like to hear the ugly voices, some are rather mean!

Though I suppose we are a loving family and thus I must accept

That when it comes to stashing bodies, we are most adept...

Best of luck detective, you have three days to find her (^_^)/

-Chen Yuan Wen, 8th February 2013

Misery's GardenMisery's Garden:

Through the cold ice we trekked, the Reaper and I.
His face an ever-shifting grin, oscillating between joy and malice...

With quick, light-footed steps, he lead me to a warm green meadow.
A small hut in the distance, a little garden beside.
Where a hunchbacked man, covered in boils and open wounds;
Bearing a crooked jaw and gnarled hands, tilled the earth.

"Egh yew ooh wha gu wan!"

I was so startled by the hunchback's sudden outburst,
That I jumped and gripped the Reaper's cloak in fright,
Yet as soon as he had seen me, the hunchback's eyes glazed over;
He appeared to forget about our presence...

I had to admit, I was ve

Deceptive

Deceptive:

Little butterfly,
Tempting with beautiful wings;
Poisons quickly.

-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th January 2013

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

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

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

BelovedBeloved:

Perfectly pleasant
With a bright radiant smile
If only for me...

-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th January 2013

Coward of a ManCoward of a Man:

You stand there whinin', cryin' crocodile tears and playin' victim.
Ye eyes demand pity, but yer lips are spewin' nothin' but lies.
Flowery speeches o' harmony and unification;
It's bollocks and snake-oil I say!

I ask ye, as someone who aspires t' be a leader:
What exactly are ye worth?
Who exactly are ya, and what in th' bloody hell makes you worth followin'?

Now I've watched ye fer a long time, and I've known ye fer even longer -
Ye always stand there beggin', askin' us fer help, askin' fer a handout;
But yer hands are clean, uncalloused, and completely free from sweat or toil.
Instead, ye make us promises; promi

It Came From The DarkIt Came From The Dark:

Amongst the ashes, swirling from the darkness of the pit,

Emerged a hand, dragging a battered body across the rocks.

Blood leaked from the wounds so callously self-inflicted,

And teeth ground with a focused determination and seething anger.

It cared not for the warm rubies - staining the jagged rocks,

It cared not for the sensation of pain...

All that it remembered was a dream, An obsession -

One that drove it ever higher; ignoring all else!

Eventually it emerged from this shadowy hole, this dreary depth,

And in that moment, it learned of the truth.

For this creature, denied sunlight and warmth -

was me...

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

Painted SkinPainted Skin:

He smiles at you, as you enter the office;
Wearing eyeliner made of contempt and disdain.
His cheap cologne invades your nostrils immediately
And you quickly suppress a cough.

"Yes, yes, indeed we have to review this...er, many things are involved."

His face is powdered with a layer of self-importance;
Lips reddened by the polite harshness he spews.
His forked tongue flickers as he prattles on
And you're really getting quite tired.

"Oh I'm sorry! Of course, of course I understand; but my way is much better!"

You're getting really bored now, so you take a look around the room.
The expectation is to see it bedecked wit

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JudgementJudgement:

You are a mewling coward and weakling
Offal to the world, yet too arrogant to admit it!
Unbridled by the feelings of shame and guilt;
A man who was naught but a self-serving sycophant...
Remember the days that you used to spend
Envious of others who worked harder than you
More and more you would curse at their backs
It was an act that blackened your tongue and soul!
Now as you gaze into the maw of the inferno
Endlessly waiting for the judge's call

Read the first letter of every line, and know the fate for which you fall.

-Chen Yuan Wen, 6th July 2012

Barely BreathingBarely Breathing:

Are you feeling cold in here, lost perhaps
It makes me wonder if you can even hear me
Has your mind degraded into a lump of fat
Broken by what you've been forced to endure?

As I stroke your cheeks it makes me remember
The loving shrillness of your frightened shrieks
You screamed and screamed until your throat was bloody
As I slowly took your limbs from you...

Now you dangle helpless on wires and chains
An artistic puppet, which is made from flesh
No hands or feet to lash out violently
No arms or muscles to thrash...

The breath that rasps from your broken lips
Is the sound that tells me, you are still alive
But

SANGUINE Chapter 1 - 4SANGUINE

A tale of vampires, twists and delusions, by Chen Yuan Wen

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Pirate: The Legend of Chenbeard 1 - 1Pirate: The Legend of Chenbeard
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It's been a bloody long time since I wrote in ya! The reason fer that be the fact that I've found meself a new travellin' companion. Apparently, she's some kind o' Half-Elf Kommando; whatever tha hell that is. Her name is Haze and I'll be damned if she ain't tha best lookin' elf I've ever seen. Gentle blonde hair, lovely green eyes and a knife that'll rip yer guts out on sight! She's a feisty one, I'll give 'er that, but she ain't no match fer old Chenbeard. Seriously though, what really matters is the fact that she can hunt and she c

An Epic LegendAn Epic Legend:

The skies turned bloody, as the smell of death wafted through the air;
Those yet to be consumed by the madness, stood dumbfounded in the streets
They stared at the sky and into the glimmering eye of Tashorak
Who in the moments of his birth, consumed the stars that surrounded him

The Moon was all that stood in his way, for she would not let her people die
Yet though she fought with all of her might, she too was eventually consumed...
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Yet though he could not act directly; he could send others to act in his stead

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The Way We Live

by *WordOfChen, Jan 14, 2013, 7:37:29 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Traditional Fixed Forms

The Way We Live:

We all have our own little struggles;
Pushing on forward as the tragedies double.
A life led with pain and exhaustion too immense,
I'm pushing down walls as my muscles go tense.

But these are the words that you'll never hear me spit.
I'd never say I'm 'giving up' or if I should 'quit'.
I'm really freaking stupid so just tell it to my face,
And even then I'd never give up the right to race.

I'm like a lone arrow drawn and shot from a bow,
Blustered by the winds of all the things I don't know.
I'd never figure out if I'd reach the final mark,
But I know that I'd never lose my glowing inner spark.

And that's all it takes just to keep this body going.
With calloused hands in this ocean I'm still rowing
Searching for some land out amidst a sea of black;
A wandering gypsy bearing burdens on his back.

- Chen Yuan Wen, 14th January 2013

The Way We Liveby *WordOfChen

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Traditional Fixed Forms

If you liked my work don't forget to click that favourite button at the top (^_^)/ Thank you

If you'd like to support my artwork and you have some spare change. Please take a look at my new e-book it's only $1.99 and available in multiple e-formats for purchase [you can even read it on your PC, phone etc.]:

Other Important Links:

My Facebook Page: [link]
Youtube Channel: [link]
My Gallery: [link]

Author's Comment:

Alright pirate, real talk for a moment.

You know recently I've been kind of hitting the limit of my poetic style and whenever that happens I know that I've gotta rework myself to appeal more...or just fade away and I'm not quite ready to die yet.

So what I did was I called up some old buddies that I used to rap with. They're no longer into art but of course they were willing to help and we sort of got together to relive the old days when we were dreaming.

I then started pushing out some very personal raps like this one. I also realised that my style has changed a lot since I'm able to string things better and with almost minimal swearing. My goal someday is be like my favourite Korean rapper: Kang Gary or like the two main rappers from Big Bang: T.O.P and G-Dragon because their style is really amazing and I want to learn to do those non-aggressive non-gangsta style raps that can still connect with the crowd without being controversial or obscene.

So I hope you'll bear with me as I go back to basics because the best way to come up with something new is to go all the way back and start the journey right over again.

P.S. If this magically inspires you to try rapping. Spit at me in the comments, I'll try to reply asap. I really love to rap with other people and its a good test of skill to practice that way (or at least that's how I see it)

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

If you really like me lots and want to show some epic support (other than just purchasing a book), following this link and read the journal (^_^)V >[link]<

Critique by ~TearsOfBlood22 Jan 14, 2013, 12:37:58 PM

This is good and like most of your work has a hidden meaning.
My only thing on this is a question: What meaning do you the writer get from it?

I wish you luck on more of these and hope that perhaps you will see what's out there for you... in this never ending sea of dreams

I loved this and the message I found in it was amazing the idea to keep pushing yourself and never give up is always a good thing to write about.

Keep this up and you will be loved by many and hated by few.

What do you think?

Fair Unfair

The Artist thought this was FAIR

9 out of 9 deviants thought this was fair.

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Critique by ~Michel-le-fou Jan 14, 2013, 8:17:26 AM

[I apologize at first, because I had started but a sudden break in my connections interrupted me.]
Let me start with "scope of talent becomes the artist." Breach all subjects, use all styles and all means available. Until today, I never cease to enjoy your work. Here, you prove me again by using a Dickisian slanted rhyme couplet to open your poem. Then the remaining couplets are well-formed. So much for stylistics.Tone and mood are well-shown. The choice of words especially in some lines is clever The simile to the single drawn arrow was sharp, no puns intended. Another well-planned and well-penned work!