Songs of Ren & Chou


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The dawn disrupts me with your fierce qualities
I am so vulnerable, watching thee
Fight for causes I wish I could own with thee
And belong to a voice that has that melody

My words rain over your tweets like New York lights
I delight in your footsteps in the snow
In the dark hazel and rustic baskets
Of your laughter, I follow where you go

I delight ever in your small triumphs
And grow a Titan’s fever for your trials
Small place and random wonder for the
Valley below, my dears, it’s anonymous

Like how spring will come to you in cherry trees
And the worlds you will see, that I will not
But I can share the foam of your dreams from afar
Like raspberry whispers in the after-thoughts

Of my heart that is bigger than it should be
And my soul that hangs lost in a quote
My love is an open-secret for your sport
Humanity disrupts the things we used to know

Don’t go too far off, let me ride the companionless dark
I want to know what aches at the empty stations
And how your movements chime in the smiling years
The lady soldiers of technology, freedom and the new world

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where
The idealism of the young is never squandered
It relapses in waves across the cosmos
And burns in the memories of we are meant to become.

The Unexpected Death of Idealism


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Oh, there’s reason for these sighs
And peace, from maturity
Inertia of no longer fighting
For ideals that are bigger than self

That’s the vague grey canvas of age
Talking, strangely through time
An apathy of our youthful heroism
I can wish now late, with words and spitefulness

But nothing empties dreams faster
Than poverty, student debts, a harsh economy
I said goodbye, to art, to fantasy, to women
But my heart keeps coming back

I pray to the soft ray by the window pane
And to my peach hibiscus that has blossomed
Unexpectedly, there’s a white peacock
In my dreams, that wakes me form my silence

I brood for a future me, and for a feminist hysteria
But there’s no raspberry jam, no honey and tea
I cannot forgive a world that doesn’t fight
For a better world, that’s not the legend of love

That I’m a part of, I want a higher cause
A championed course, and kids that believe
In more than profit and competition
Oh, there’s reason for these sighs

That come with a price of actually caring
About what’s happening to the world
A world that doesn’t beg for your love
It only evolves quicker without you

I’ve no cure for happiness, when
The majority has it worse than I do.

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P r a y e r s to U t o p i a


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P r a y e r s to U t o p i a

If I were to sing
A lullaby to the new world
Time and fever would burn my lips
I would be humming guilty
For what we do to a world

As a hermit who sings
To the suns supreme
I would let living creatures live

And my only energy would
Be the wind and the sun
Human faith I would discard
God, man and prosperity
If I were to speak to you

Of the future Earths
It would be an anthem of freedom
There would be no elite

Hierarchy would be banned
And politics would be the realm
Of algorithms and super-computers
Who know us better than we know ourselves
And remember how corrupt

A man can become
From playing in the simulated world
Where humans think they have power.

The Charm of Simplicity


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I have possessed nothing
In my short life, but have on occasion
Been the unworthy messenger

Of confined love, or idealism
And a sense of hope
For the future, but aren’t
Other creatures so, is this not
The destiny of youth?

I have loved and been caught
In the energy of a generation
That changed so much, not

Changing the world, but
Altering their destiny with it
Good is not good, unlesse
We refuse the curse of invirtue
To be virtuous is sometimes

To stand alone, simple and profound
Deare love of goodness
For nothing lesse than thee

Would I have broke these happy dreams
That made a dreamer out of me
To be possessed by a divinity real
In my short life, to charm
Fabled histories and enter peace.

Photo Courtesy:

http://www.deviantart.com/art/–490230783

That I Hold You Forever


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I have too much ingratitude for children
Too much dysfunction for marriage
It’s time to pour into my flute all
That I have left, the sum of shepherd-thoughts

Simplicity, of this life of neglect
According to its own rhythms
With the sustained voice of its own
Infinite exchange, dancing sums

I only have blank joys, to decorate my heart
Outlined ideals I would share with my friends
Imaginary beauty, lovely years left lonely
My suns will quickly run their course

Have their due, their little sport
Of wishing, and complete tender rounds
Of giving and secret fidelities
I own to much narcissism for family

With too much of a conscience for defeat
Toward all life embracing it from afar
The turbulent troubles between my inner shores
Are my last excuses saved for the future

A future where everyone is going to die
It suffices me to deepen, to endure
With vaster concerns than I am now capable
I am ashamed, since your departure

At the premature immaturity of my supplications
The light-fingered censure of my woe
To you, in whom I don’t confide, know this –
I have tasted the thirst that magnifies us.