Starkish's Blog

Just another weblog

poems i write and pictures i paint,

stories i tell and places i acquaint,

songs that i sing and thoughts that it brings,

you use to be my most favourite thing.



stone cold, stone cold
you see me standing, but i’m dying on the floor
stone cold, stone cold
maybe if i don’t cry, i won’t feel anymore

stone cold, baby
god knows i tried to feel
happy for you
know that i am, even if i
can’t understand, i’ll take the pain
give me the truth, me and my heart
we’ll make it through
if happy is her, i’m happy for you

stone cold, stone cold
you’re dancing with her, while i’m staring at my phone
stone cold, stone cold
i was your amber, but now she’s your shade of gold

don’t wanna be stone cold, stone
i wish i could mend this but here’s my goodbye
i’m happy for you
know that i am, even if i
can’t understand
if happy is her
i’m happy for you

progress not perfection.

i would like to walk through life with open hands, not close fists.

ah heart, your innate gentleness and openness will be the making of your slow death.


a word said, a sentence undone,

words splayed out and the sentences spun,

these words softly breathed, these sentences rue,

the words and these sentences are laced with you.


and a song sung and memories burn,

a song played and memories return

this song written of memories tainted hues,

this song of memories is laced with you.


if there is air in your lungs in this november rain,

know that the moon and sun will shine the same,

as soft and as bright on sinners and saints,

so tell her, tell her in the shadow of me that she is the one,

and the past of us has come softly undone,

under my feet i tread on still silent lakes,

of past quiet passion and for every lovers sake,

and the gift of vibrant heat and lessons of hell,

thank you and i wish you only goodness and to be well.


words unsaid.

we were on the floor, in a partial polarised hug. wanting desperately to hold each other but at the same time the touch burned. frustration, disappointment and heartache took form of tears because there were no words left to say. to watch him cry, a grown man cry, it is a special kind of heartache. but at the same time i felt lightness in the immense grief in this moment that would be seared permanently in memory for a lifetime. we knew it was the end. when we finally could look at each other, we knew. even if the words were left unsaid.


you thrilled me, willed me, i gave in you filled me,

framed with flames,

metaphysical games,

in the end you killed me.

you strung me with star laced words,

head thrown back, only moonlight heard,

my quiet breath, my beating heart,

wind in my hair and my eyes lark,

and infectious passion breached my soul,

your gentle warmth ripped it out cold,

left me naked, confused, bare, left me stark.

left me empty in dense absolute,

was it all in refute?

was it all staged?

was i another page,

licked tuned and forgotten,

an exhalation?

left me in respite?

for your existential hunger,


did you need to use me to feel,

did you need me to will,

fallacious emotions,

was i reeled?

did i please and entertain?

did i suffice, did i disdain?

your taste, your being,

your appetite, you seeming,

kisses left on my uneven tan,

at the small of my back,

at the nape of my neck.

and time stilled for us and spanned,

night never waned, and came gentle rain,

on skin, naked skin, naked soul, truthful touch,

raw, hushed, quiet, burning cold.

my wild fiery heart calmed,

and sleep adorned,

with your hands intertwined with mine,

my heart a calm storm.

What I Am

humans are incapable of holding in extreme emotions within their heart, mind, body, soul. so the heart and soul connects to the mind to tell the body to pen down notes, phrases, poetry, stories, experiences, music, art, to capture moments with a photo, to sing, anything to extract the burning warmth that you feel in  you. at times it feels as if it burns as bright as the suns and stars and as cool and peaceful as the soft light of the moon. at times as minute as a flicker of a candle or dying embers. but you still feel it. the warmth and the coolness. this warmth, it burns and burns and it feels as if it will never die out. it is constant. it is as warm as the blood in me until my body turns cold. and when my body turns cold, it will carry on with the remnants of my soul and memories.

Discovery One

at almost 30, life unravels before your eyes either in bloom or in a wilt. theres the classic preconception of ‘everything will be figured out when you get older.’ nope.

life. thrown at you are challenges after challenges, one you take on with a brave heart or one that sends you to recoil in the corner and think over your tactical decisions. you do have a choice to either rise and rise like a phoenix or live in a constant loop of falling from grace. life truly is myriad kaleidoscope of everything and nothing short of being a beautiful disaster. if i had other talents other than writing my thoughts … i would paint, sing, dance as eloquently as i could write to explain life.

sadness and happiness. im slowly learning that choosing to be happy or sad is a personal choice. i started simple. with food. how do i even begin to explain the connection? it really is a chemical makeup. it not a full solution that fits everyones bill, but food plays a role in elevating your sanctity of happiness. eat right and be well. it is a luxury no doubt. do i have the luxury? yes. do i abuse it? sometimes. but it has come to a healthy ratio of 70:30. i have educated myself as much as i can and i don’t plan on stopping.

judgement. everyone is not immune to being judgmental. i wont state the obvious of what is sub-setted in this, there is no reason too. judgement borns of what the individual would think right or wrong and it is a constant battle in reference to human logic (laws, legislations, literature etc) and (to what some believe) holy scriptures. the act of balancing both has been around since the beginning of time. it is more rampant than not these days as personal lives are splayed out, easily accessible. it is an exercise of thought restraint that is possible for those who seek to be less.

love. love is thrown around too much or too little at the wrong time. love is not to be given out as easily, honestly. on both ends of the spectrum. it should be respected and earned, it should be pure and good and worked for. not demanded. never demanded. love that is demanded is corrupted. the kind, the gentle and the unconditional type of love is as rare as carlos magdelenas’ nymphaea thermarum. when you find it, cherish and hold it, be smart about it. love should be brave, love should be wild. love is how you make it to be. it should be worthwhile.

“When we love, we always strive to become better than we are. When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too.” ― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

forgiveness. this department is as complicated as a two state solution. a part of my heart is as dark as the other side of the moon. learning to forgive takes exercise and time. you should never not be open to be forgiving or forgiveness no matter how long or how hard. to say it and mean it, for it to show in your eyes, and breath. just keep on breathing.