Victor Feels @poet-victorfeels - Tumblr Blog

an angel away

as swift as the morning stream you watched him go like how dewdrops flow not too sudden but all at once they fall the longingness begins the moment they go to heaven.

now, the skies - a misty green with soft orange clouds there on the view, shadows of palm trees stood it’s a beautiful day but not so on your own way for that boy you love is now an angel away.

right there in the sealine, where seagulls fly he watches you weep an ocean of heartbreaks it’s a beautiful life but not so when he’s gone from your life but he’s there - flying with his childhood friends.

he has found his sanctuary, innocence, & serendipity watch him breeze in the palm trees feel the cold of the morning stream he’s there, he’s right there, he will stay for he’s just an angel away.

- Victor Feels

‘16

he was just 16 when he made you a man at 23 but he was too young, too young to fall in love too young to be broken maybe you saw wonders in his innocence like blinking starlights that never die like the city lights that blinded your eye or maybe you saw him as a sheep in your wolf eyes perhaps you found shelter on his smiles or perhaps you were too alone and you wanted his delicacy as your own.

but at 16, indeed, he was too young too young to trace your scars too young to taste your lips too young to burn with bliss too young to know that heartbreakers with broken hearts will never ever grow.

maybe you did felt solace in his dainty touches maybe you did found love in his unbroken eyes but he was too young, too young for you to hurt him to leave him for years wondering the splintering why’s but at bittersweet 16, he learned how to grow up when he finally accepted that you were distant when he finally knew that guys with broken hearts, lonely smirks treacherous remarks and icy gazes will never ever grow.

so remember when you were 23 and you realised that when he was just 16 you already buried his innocence deep within but you saw how a boy could grow when he finally let you go for finally he knew that heartbreakers with broken hearts like you will never ever grow.

- Victor Feels

memories & ashes

there are names worth forgetting like memories and ashes dancing high in the wind where they shouldn’t be seen far from your vicinity - but still reeling in with their treachery.

you know that there are souls- better left in the dungeon you know that there are are cries- better left in an echo chamber and you know that your love is long over.

yet their touches are still caressing down your spine their breathings are still warming your neck you know that when a romance is dead It’s better to sink them in the river light them a candle and offer an eternal prayer but remembering does not easily dwindle.

for you knew all along that you were doomed when you finally shot them in the eye with a look that says,”i really love you.” you knew all along that you were never the same once you saw them with a pretty smile and you knew that it was only flashed at you.

but you also know that their names are worth forgetting their voices tossed in the seawaves their promises crushed within boulders but when a love dies, ghosts arise they wail loudly from the dungeon they curse your heart in all its chambers and you wish you can burn their memories like ashes sprinkled into nothingness flying in the wind where it shouldn’t be seen.

yet no matter how painful and awful they linger, they hover for you will always be doomed to remember the names that you should be forgetting.

- Victor Feels

grapevines

meet me at the grapevines this dawn dewdrops will fall from our eyes and we will taste the fresh hopes of tomorrow our stories ended with raven eyes but when daylight floods in, a new love begins we will pick the grapes of sorrow make a wine of them, throw a feast at the banquet to celebrate a genesis of dreams heavens will tear through the vines and it will be clear to see; we have each other for eternity we are scarred, we are tired but in these grapevines, we are renewed we are alive.

we will pick what is left & cut the ripened ones and though tonight is another rain another night of thorns and pain tomorrow, it will soon be over for we will meet at the grapevines there’ll be dewdrops and fresh hopes there’ll be love, there’ll be peace for we have each other in the sanctuary of grapevines.

- Victor Feels

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wine glass

you love me in full moon, full blast hold me delicately like wine glass but when the drink is over and the dawning sun hovers in the corner you clench me in your fist and tear me piece by piece because the feast is over and soon this love will be a goner.

when the nightlamps are already dim in daylight when the discoballs are finally taken down and our whims are dwindling with the dandelions i will be left with empty bottles trying to be sober when i know that this memory, those tantalizing eyes will stay here forever.

you came into the party like a wondrous storm with roseate cheeks and oasis on your stares you watch me from afar, til you waltzed in breaking through our screens - catched my glance and seized my heart within.

that dance in a dizzying romantic haze that smile was a mesmerizing ease you asked me if i was alone and i said i ran away from home you held my hand like it was your own you filled me in like i was your zone in this intimidatingly golden dome and in your touches and laughters i found a temporary home.

for a moment you held me for a moment you had all of me you told me i was your shining light so in full moon, full blast you held me constantly like wine glass but we know that the party will soon be over.

the sun sneaks in the velvet curtains the mayors and their pretty girls have passed out for one last time you clench me in your fist and you didn’t know - you tore me piece by piece because the feast was finally over so you take your coat, gave me one last look and i knew that this romance, that lasted for a night will be a goner and you’ll forget me forever.

- Victor Feels

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Good Night ( the moonlit bridge)

Every ten and then you would sleep Right before the twilight can revolt To hear more of your lovely cries To paint more of your eyes in starry light

And you’ll yawn in drowsy goodbyes With a drowning heart I’ll be saying good night.

Good night for the unquenched memories on the sheets Good night, the moonlit bridge is where we’ll meet - located between the river of our dreams.

I’ll call your name in my sleep tonight Only if I can sleep without having your heart in mine Darling, you’re tired, you have fought and cried And I love you my seawaves and sunshine.

I understand that you will not be by my side tonight But for all that’s worth, I love you with all my heart.

Even though the night has struck ten And I won’t be seeing you here and then When I want to hear more of your little laughs When I want to dance the night with more memories of your smiles.

When the clock has struck ten I know I won’t be hearing your words here and there.

But in my dreams, we’ll meet at the moonlit bridge I will hold your arms, dance along your lovely cries And I will trace the starry light in your eyes.

I never want to end the night when I’m with you But you have yawned your sincere goodbyes And I have nothing to say but good night Good night (I love you with all my heart).

- Victor Feels

once upon a summer

once upon a summer his love was all that mattered flowers grew on archaic bricks; churches sprouted life in vines blue skies revolted; his name in the wind resonated.

sometimes i find him in the fever of my sleep and i would hear him breathe in my troubled heartbeats longing for his dreams and the sugarcane fields-

flourish within my soul, explode in me while i fall- fall back to me again, come back once you’re free again.

hike with me in the golden mountains let’s dip our feets into the river of my village and for once let go - let go of your thoughts. there’s only you, me, and my hands no one will come with us but our shadows.

and i know that summer was long over i know this is another story tossed around the corner i know we used to love each other until fear crept over

when churches rang their bells to deafen us when our families hated seeing our hands tied when we finally cared what the noises say-

a typical, romantic summer has been over.

but the flowers on archaic bricks are still fresh in me the vines are still entangled in my heart the skies are still revolting and in my mind your name is still wildly resonating.

i know you don’t love me like i do i know it was easy for you to let go but even for a false moment, a false time let’s revive that one summer when our love was all that mattered.

- Victor Feels

darling, silver lining

you must have had the time of your life bewitching me with your family’s stories and keeping me closely with your strides it must have been an exciting escapade to venture in my most intimate spaces and to easily put me in delicate paces.

darling, you glistened like a silver lining amidst a sea of affinity waiting for me in the end thirsty, for I am tired of waiting and hoping for that one figure who will end the chase and you waltzed in like a promised star only to find out in the end that you gleamed glories of nothing but a mirage.

maybe it’s not your fault or maybe it’s mine maybe it was my needy hopes or maybe it’s just you the short-lived journey you’ve put me through does not seem to dwindle easily from my mind unlike how you flickered suddenly in hindsight.

and it enchants me wildly to see how one could instantly dig your depths only for them to find out that you have no gems so they bury you like a graveyard and leave your tombstone without an epitaph.

like you’re a dead person unworthy of prayers like you’re meant to live with grudges and be a haunted soul as if you’re not dignified to know why why he can no longer tell his stories why he can no longer keep me with his strides as if you’re meant to wander around thinking did he have the best time torturing me? did he enjoy my intimate spaces? in filling them with saltwater and mockery.

and as he rises from his tantalizing glory i knew, that darling, with your silver lining you were never even sorry for you had the time of your life playing with me.

- Victor Feels

tw: suicide & self-harm

when you’re a poet you are doomed to be sentimental you are expected to find beauty in misery to hide your pain in metaphors of galaxies of sailing ships, thorny gardens, and other worldly aesthetics.

when you’re a poet you are moved to use your tears as your ink you treat your own bleeding as a blessing for whatever you’re feeling will be one for the books one that will flutter the hearts of those who read of those who ache, those who love, and continue to breathe.

when you’re a poet you understand that you can weave pain through words you understand how your hurt can resonate to other souls so you write endlessly despite losing your sanity you relieve painful memories just to write them vividly but deep inside you are killed and resurrected constantly.

it’s as if you’re a ghost who can touch the living like your tombstone has new epitaphs every now and then.

as a poet, i consider myself to be romantic one who always gleam the starriest eyes one who looks at someone as if they’re my hometown and i have been romantic enough to find distant islands on someone’s eyes to hold someone as if i can shelter them and i have been romantic enough to let myself bleed endlessly for souls who always fail to look through me

but all i have now are angst, regret, and shame for there is nothing romantic with pounding your head on the wall every night and then, thinking of how stupid and reckless you are there is nothing romantic with easing your sadness by making love with a stranger who reeks of transience there is nothing romantic when you look in the mirror and scorn yourself for losing weight and wanting to kill yourself

when you’re a poet you know that writing will somehow reflect your suffering but the truth is, it doesn’t always replicate your torment no matter how sonically cohesive your lines are no matter how deep and poetic it can be and no matter how readers can find connection through your words.

when you’re a poet the truth is, all you can say is fuck fuck, for always bleeding this way fuck, for always having to be fragile for everyone fuck, for always losing against love fuck, for expecting your lines to be magical and lyrical and fuck for being doomed to be sentimental.

there isn’t always beauty in misery sometimes there’s just me, staring blanklessly on the ceiling of my damp bedroom telling myself, “shit, tonight i’m still living.”

- Victor Feels, when you’re a poet, world poetry day.

stay-close

I’m sorry my feelings couldn’t disappear as easily as yours did.

golden boy

in a blink of many beautiful people the lights crashed, the heavens were wild when you caught my name & said hello i didn’t know how deep ocean this would flow.

this fondness, your thoughtfulness my lengthy letter & your lovely remarks it goes deeper than days and nights that there is a treasure, lo & behold-

beyond the walls of intramuros & smokes of manila there’s one that is golden, pass the atlantic ocean.

he stares at his balcony, feeling the tropical heat and i fancy if he ever thinks of me as i lay on my bed wistfully does my memory stir in his cup of coffee?

in a blink of many beautiful people hopes were crushed but love was wild & alive he found me & i found him he said hello & a million affections would follow.

i didn’t know how deep the pacific & atlantic ocean would flow with this fancy i hold, for the golden boy in Tietê, Sau Paulo.

- Victor Feels

Enchantress

Lure me into your glittering arms Lull me to drowning sleeps -

This river is dead so I came to wept I longed for beloved’s steps but I ended up - basking in this glorious mess.

He no longer remembers me So the river ceased to flow rapidly-

Through the rocks and bamboo nets Through his heart - I’m no longer there.

Through the lifeless lily ponds Through his sceneless eyes - I’m no longer in his sight.

You were written in legends, sang by the villages of this town If one was to seek the enchantress - He has to pour this river with distress.

So come with all golden thunders Blaze into a mesmerizing dance With your flowing hair catching glints of the sun Invite me in the void of your sparkling eyes.

“All hail the enchantress! All hail her might and gloriousness!” The sugarcane wine drinkers sing-

“Take me from this morose place and fill me in your space” “All hail the enchantress! All hail her might and gloriousness!”

With smirking eyes she came in dead sprouts In dark bloom, she looked like she was in gloom The air darkens, the bamboo withers She is not as glittering as the the legends sing

But her lifeless stance, her sorry eyes Reminded me of someone She is not what the village thinks she is

But she’s still the enchantress - And I am enchanted nonetheless. This river is dead so I came to wept I took the beloved’s steps now I’m in this glorious mess. This river no longer flows and his love for me is already lost.

My distress enchanted the enchantress She’s peering, coming, and sweeping in

My distress revived the enchantress With golden thunders, blazing in a dance Her hair flowing, catching the glints of the sun No longer lifeless, she now have sparkling eyes

My distress is inviting the enchantress “Lure me into your glittering arms And lull me to drowning sleeps.”

- Victor Feels

once there was a house built on the cliffside of this hill when jovi & mario fled from their parent’s houses the folks of estancia had never seen their faces ever since jovi’s mom slapped both of her cheeks ever since jovi’s dad chased mario with sharpened sticks.

they were just sixteen - the sun barely sinking in their skin but when they found themselves in the sarguelas’ branches they knew that home was no longer the nipa huts of their parents mario is all alone, his farmer parents killed by military men jovi is lovely, her mother washes clothes on the river her father drinks liquor from morning to evening.

and in the foggy lake they seek each other’s touches they hike the dried and burnt mountains and when the church bell rings at three in the afternoon they wave goodbyes and promise to see each other soon.

but ever since they fled from their parent’s houses they were no longer seen despite the village chief’s searches but there near the cliffside of this hill lived jovi & mario in everlasting peace they had seven goats and two children and lived happily away from their gossiping village.

yet what remains are their remnants who knew they were here through all these years with their goats grazing the grasses and their children climbing the sarguela’s branches who knew two lonely teens found a lovely place for here, near the cliffside of this hill was once a house built from curiosity

jovi was full of naivety but was lovely mario was clueless but also relentless to build this house, to build a family until the roof is broken and rusty the wooden windows; rotting and dusty.

and all that remains are these remnants who knew if their goats were butchered or alive who knew if their children fled to the city who knew if they were taken by a violent storm who knew if they were lured by the enchantress the folks of estancia wrote tales & songs about them but there’s only one thing certain- all that remains are these remnants that once there was a house built on the cliffside of this hill where two kids named jovi & mario lived.

- Victor Feels, once there was a house

so this is where the line is drawn seeing your morose eyes overflown- with falls of a new romance while you’re in a wondrous, enchanting dance.

deep in your skies - there is a smile the kind that you remember for a longwhile along your lines - there is a person a soul, a lover you can call your own.

he has traced your starless spaces he has found your shadows in abandoned houses so you’re no longer ghosting from places to places.

but beyond this romantic reverie where was i in this scenery? have you forgotten this love in me? that only you can take and break within.

do you remember when i held you in stormy vistas? do you remember how i looked at you in broken bridges? do you remember that mythic blue that led me all to you?

but i guess this is where the chase ends

for it’s not me holding your hands while you are in a wondrous, enchanting dance and i am just your forgotten romance.

deep in your skies - i am just a broken smile the kind that you only remember for a shortwhile but along my lines - you are my person a soul, a lover that i can never call my own.

and as i end this chase i find myself in a stormy pace for this is where the line is drawn where your love is no longer my own.

-Victor Feels, where the chase ends

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is it love?

is it love? when you cried like a knight in distress in front of my fortress and when suddenly my heart splintered delicately.

is it love? when I let those sultry gazes in your eyes haunt me at midnights and when your sad rings encircled me at every daylight.

is it love? when I held your hands like the last sands of earth are about to sprinkle down in the hourglass.

is it love? when I said that we should be friends but the voices inside me were crying shouting and singing that I should love you with the flow of moonlight.

is it love? when at that night, sprouts of happiness were planted and shapeless thoughts of sparking up a romance with you welled up in me.

- Victor Feels

I don’t chase figures I chase dreams.

#love quote #quoteoftheday

The rain is pouring & I am dripping in unknowingness It was dark, cold, and as the splatters cry louder It felt like seeing golden lights tangled on dark trees It felt like something worthwhile, enchanting, & real.

Lightning struck, the earth was shaken momentarily But this coldness & downpour of fragile souls continue Sometimes it’s beautiful to have sadness & silence The night is indescribable, there were ripples of your laughter Yet the ice of your dismissiveness tears through my spine.

And why is it so beautiful to be sad?

Because of you, the thought of you is beautiful Your body swirling like dandelions in a sunny sky The guitar on your hands and the acacia tree in our side The summer skies that we once loathed And the tamarind seeds that we’ve thrown Are now wrapped in a haunting song -

It’s still playing and aching in me But I know that you’ve tossed it in the city’s skies As you faded in the haze of traffic lights.

So now that it’s over, the rain pours In your mind, my existence drips in nothingness You’ll never know how I saw you that last day of summer You’ll never know how I weaved your goodbyes into fabrics of poetry.

So I’ll dance in this darkened rain and shout with my guts You will never see me and you will never hear me I was once in your sky and poured you a rainstorm But like a lightning strike, it was gone in an instant.

Let my rains ruin my parades Let the sadness of the world cry every tear in me Let every ache and grief spear my breathless heart It was a beautiful summer, it was a terrible storm It felt something worthwhile, enchanting, and real. But it’s now time for me to dance in this darkened rain.

I will sing with the notes of the splattering of raindrops And maybe I’ll cry endlessly or momentarily But the rain keeps pouring and I keep dripping in your unknowingness.

- Victor Feels, Downpour of Beautiful Sadness

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