Diagnosis of a Delusional Dreamer
Everything I went through, everyone who left me, every single tear that drowned me in misery—
It all made me godlike.
Now, I rule the world.
Original poems by Kenn Tenorio

Death in a Slumber

Maybe I’m just angry
Delusional soul
with a restless heart
Maybe I don’t want
to be
a part of anything
or be anything, anyone
Maybe I don’t want 
to sweat
Not entirely driven
Not entirely passionate
Maybe my dream
really just
to wake up with
someone I love
Have sex
Laugh again
and then close our eyes

Rhum and Coffee

Good morning, Lush – rise and shine! 
The weekend is over now and it’s time;
Time for you to open your eyes so
I can see you as the sun’s rays
Hit your eyes,
And kiss your skin,
And embrace every inch of you
until you become
whole again.

Wake up
Start walking towards everything you
Left behind yesterday –
The smiles you trashed, the light
You blew off, the life you killed,
The love you lost;
Very slowly
I’ll walk with you
As the rest of the world gets high.

Give me your hand, so I can hold you
And feel your touch,
And know that you’re
Still there;
Every breath you take is just
So pure
So dear
So delicate;
I look at you and I see someone
I want to face the world with. 

Give me all your fears
I’ll throw them all away
And I will tell you:
Underneath that cold,
Lifeless exterior is
A little boy who cries at night,
Who dreams, who lives,
Who feels, who loves. 

I give you my heart 
So you can hear loud noises
Inside your chest
When the silence becomes deafening,
When you begin to lose hope,
When the world starts to wither –
And you’ll know 
You’re not alone.

I give you my heart
More than anything else –
More than the sound of the ocean
Or the taste of victory
Or the image of bliss –
That not even the synergy of all
Bright and wonderful
Can ever compare.

I give you my heart
Though it scares me to;
Though it reminds me
How hard it was seeing you
How hard it was letting you go
How hard it was losing you
And how it’s even harder
For you –
All over again.

I give you my heart –
That’s all that I can give to you;
I give you my heart
And you never have to give it back;
I give you my heart;
I have given it 
To you
From the start. 


She walks around with her two feet
With grace and beauty, she seems discreet
Her golden hair and deep blue eyes
March beneath and beyond the skies;
As she breathes, her luscious lips
Part in a way that can launch some ships
As she blinks, she sees the sun,
The bent road where the soldiers run;
And on those days when life seems dry,
When all I can do is try and sigh,
She never fails to simplify
Such a complex beauty no one can deny;
Viktoria! Oh, what a lovely name
Adversity is her story, magnificence is her game
Her voice so loud, she can reverberate
Whatever my mind can’t seem to inculcate;
And if someday she and I will part,
Go our own ways and get back to start,
I will always have her in my heart,
Viktoria— such a lovely art!

Intricate Inquisitions

The poor are getting poorer; the rich are getting richer
Why can’t we just let it be?
I have dug a grave; someone must lie in it
Why can’t it be me?
The dog wags the tail; the tail wags the dog
Which one is true?
If the best things in life aren’t things,
Which thing are you?
I have sung a million songs of blues and aspirations
How could I be heard?
How could I see the world in a brighter color
When everything is blurred?
They say there’s always a rainbow after the rain
I’d like to believe such baloney
They say before laughter there must be pain
What else? Bliss before money?
Hypocrisy, above all kinds of lies, faults the deepest
It’s just sad to know the world tolerates it.
If only we were a little more real, a little more genuine
It wouldn’t hurt a bit.
Yesterday is history, tomorrow’s a mystery
How about today?
If it’s really some kind of a present,
Why do we let it slip away?
Time is gold, life is precious, and love never fails;
These are the truths that keep us living.
Time is gold, life is precious, and love never fails;
These are the doubts that cause our dying.
Why are we even here?
Why are breathing?
What’s there to keep us awake?
What’s there to stop our bleeding?
I don’t know
You don’t know either
But some things are purely certain
I’ll tell you; promise me you won’t shiver.
Tomorrow, the waters will rise dramatically
Tomorrow, the skies will turn dark blue
Who is to blame?
It’s me, it’s you.

Something Yellow

Dark clouds started to coagulate
On a subdued Sunday morning
A storm came and it poured
Its weight conquered my insides
Ruthlessly devouring me
Dominating my system, it created a vacuum

It knocked me on the floor, whispering
In every corner of my head
They weren’t words; they were a synergy
Of voices, emotions and swishing shadows—
An orchestra waking me up, commanding me
To stand up and take a leap
I let the bells ring
I lit up a lamp, not a matchstick 

I heard tears dripping from the top of a building
She sang in pain, waiting for the light
Hungry for bread, thirsty for water
Craving to see a sight of life, a growing sprout
Behind the towering mountains and rushing rivers
She waited for something yellow to appear 

I found myself sitting in the backseat
Of a fleeting car along a lonely road
Struggling to step on the breaks, but
I could only reach for the wheels
I could feel myself flying away
From the enigmatic voices that were chasing me
Then I turned around, and I saw something bright
I saw the yellow thing she was waiting for;
I smiled.


Prudent, alluring
Thinking, strategizing, battling
Without trails of stupidity

Precipice Confessions

Until now, the scent of your sleeves stays on my shoulders. Until now, I hear your soft yet husky voice. It penetrates my very soul. It haunts me every night. It surrounds me every time I am alone in my dark room. Until now, every little thing you did projects some kind of a play in my mind—a tragedy. I can’t smile; I can’t displace a muscle because every single move you made has paralyzed me to the extent that even breathing begins to feel like a mundane chore. Four years could’ve transformed me into a heartless being. Four years could’ve turned my every loneliness into a circus of fires and sinister ventriloquists. Four years could’ve been long enough to make me forget, but it hasn’t. The only thing I forgot is my name. It’s funny how I could make it obvious, and you could just shrug me off your cuff. Your cuff—something I held on for so long; something I smelled and admired. It is something I cannot see anymore. You were the land that I walked on, the cup of clear water I sipped into, the enormous jungle I dared to wander. You were my world. Now, my nothingness. You were my earth, wind and fire. Now, the things that murder me and every remain of my sanity. I believed I couldn’t remember life before your name. I believed in stars, in colors, in laughter, in jars of goodness. I believed in you, in me, and in us. I believed my universe and yours conspired for the fairytale I thought I was already living. I gazed at your radiant face like I gaze at the sun—blinding and painful yet elegant and serene. I thought I touched every part of you. Your arms, your feet, your tender neck. I’m numb. All I was able to feel was the distance that turned into blades—blades that cut my heart wide open– still beating, barely pumping blood. You lightened up my load. No. Not you. The thought of you. It lightened up my load. I pulled every stable string from my back so I could lock you in my little black box. You threw your words. They turned into knives. I learned that I don’t have any stable string in me at all. The only stable string I know is the one your heart is tied up with—the one holding you back, preventing you from doing anything else other than escape. I am here. Twenty thousand feet above the ground. It’s my turn to escape. My strings are futile, my words are rigid. I am futile, I am rigid. I feel the wind racing towards me and my spiritless visage. I take a step closer to the edge of where I stand. And then I take another step. After that, a half step. Every centimeter I take forward signifies a centimeter closer to freedom and bliss. I’m taking the last step. As I do this, I touch every inch of you that hasn’t sung my life away. I love you. Now I understand. I never knew what pain was until I looked into your eyes, and you looked away.

Twenty-three Vodka Shots and a Hangover

I am a small-town dreamer with ambitions out of reach;
I am a growing kid whose aspirations somehow shrink;
I live in a hut today and tomorrow in a bigger hut;
A few weeks from now I’ll be living in a real house;
I am working in a small café’ as a service crew;
Later, I’ll apply for a job at a local magazine office;
I am hired, and I am moving into a bigger house;
Tomorrow, things are going to be different;
My column has inspired a lot of people;
I am a star in the making;
I am a star;
I write books for children;
I write books for everyone;
I write plays;
My plays become known by the whole world;
The world looks up to me and my exceptional works;
I am the wealthiest writer humanity has ever witnessed;
I live in a glass mansion with thirteen housemaids;
I own a dozen of mansions;
I own Asia and later Europe;
I own Africa and later the Americas;
I own everything and everyone;
I own the world;
I am alone.

Sunrise in the West

You shine so hesitantly from across these waves
Of everything flowing, of everything mysterious.
I gaze at you with grace and marvel
As my mind races with a delirious pace.
Never in my life have I felt this comfortable
Witnessing the change of the skies’ colors.
As each second passes, as each wave moves
Tranquility transpires in the thin air of wonder;
As you kiss the ocean, as you embrace the clouds
Reflections of beauty are unveiled.
As you radiate your astounding glory
I send my gratitude from my heart to your serene rays.
You furnish warmth, and I take it with my cold hands
I am the moth, you are the flame,
I go around you, but not a wound;
Only a mark in my eyes telling a story of nativity.
I am in the dawn of the light
As you die and as everything turns dark.


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