A story of an edible piece,
food for thought to make you think.

I cut a pear in half,
and admittedly had a pair.
My two bananas friends broke up,
something I'd like to say was, "a banana split".
My peach friend proposed an idea,
but we don't listen to the peach pitch an idea.

Later on that day I chased
a man for being so annoying.
Told him to "go",
and boy did that mango.

I think his name was Barry,
told him it was the last straw.
So I yelled, "it's the last Strawberry".

Afterwards I was late,
for a romantic dinner with a fruit.
(It was a date).

Along the way,
I bumped into a  group of immature grapes,
funny because they were quick to wine.
I thought to myself, "what a bunch of sour grapes"

I noticed a doctor walking up to me,
and I felt really uncomfortable.
So I grabbed an apple and threw it at him,
to keep that doctor away today.
Next I noticed a pinning apple,
which had me thinking, "what a pineapple".

By the end of my story,
my date didn't go so well.
She ordered a coke. And I wanted to seem extra healthy,
So I ordered a fruit cocktail.

She left me alone, not before pouring out
her infatuations towards me.
To be honest, I thought that was just
a silly fruit crush.

That day I had enough of fruit.

I just pray she doesn't have an older brother,
he might beat me to a pulp.

My love, seems to be ferocious.
Towards you, it could go unkind.
Best be wise.
The comparison of my love in your eyes, is much more than it's true size.

More of it lies!

Within my heart,
a battleground like no other.
The scars I've burdened, many I'm scared to show.
A grenade of emotions, counting down five
seconds away till they explode.
What more does it ask me for? A cost of interest I can't ignore.

I'm going round again for another tour!

Words are a weapon, you load with a tongue.
Lips the after fire. A gun powder of words I've spoken.
And I'm hoping my relentless love, won't leave one to be broken.
Love left me with many wounds, a few of which are still open.

Nowadays I'm just coping!

I'll fight for you, as much as you fight for me.
Give my all, as much as you've given all to me.

Don't give up on me!

Love you as much as you love the much of me.
Be all as you want, as the want you are to me.

All that I am is you. All that you are is me.

Till the end of a battle knife,
you've carved a piece of you in my skin.
And to think,
at a time I questioned this all being a dream.

But what is real!?

A war for love asks for blood. We bleed for the one we love.

That's real!

Making love to each other. Two sides coming to make peace out of their conflicts.

That's real!

We've made accords to each other. Two parties coming to terms in the end.

That's real!

We spit fire at each other. Arguing till one admits the other is right.

That's real!

We'll fight for love, and tear a few hearts down.
The smoke all clears. And we hope the result in the end is, true love found.

A true war to love.

Only as the sun shines
Rising to the dawning of eyes—had I realise
we are then only seen beautiful, as like stars of night

The astrologer said to me, “the markings of your skin,
be as tiny dots of stars. Imperfectly perfect, as constellations
tell their stories”

I stored her knowledge,
upon the wisdom wrapped by lips—still with the
wondrous mind of child, we all want to discover

So as the child of the astrologer, I went out
into the world to discover, all not yet discovered.

Young are fools,
Young is love with it’s gazing wet eyes,
Young is time,— of it you still have,
Young are dreams,
Young are fears,
Young are the first worries life burdens us with,
Young are we all,—only for a time.

You are never too young of all to do,
But old in the spirits of picking whichever's when,
To start off young, and end off old.
Though life is as short,— it feels too young nowadays.

~All is too young.~

Blind to the subject of being blind in love –
does that mean I can see?

Do I believe in the belief; of love at first sight
isn’t faith believing in that you cannot see,
that which you hope to be?

But I could close my eyes to a better scene –
when we go out and it doesn’t go so well;
we should have made it a blind date!

            Now this love feels blind.

somewhere out in the world, somebody’s child is dying –
we all should be crying, but being miles apart, you right
now could be smiling – knowing not a thing

life is often tragedy; in other times it’s the happier times
to make us smile. we are a billion diamonds reflecting
each other lights – we hope to live, we all know we’ll
die, some hope for peace, still we fight within this life
to try and survive  

we do our best to dream, even when sleep has other plans
so for some, they re-enact the scenes from dreams to make
them seem real. though the past is gone, some of the memories
of it don’t make a retreat; some hope for peace, still we fight
within this life to try and survive  
                seems we’ve always been bred to fight.

My heart is ensnared by the way the light dances
in your eyes, a mesmerizing spectacle that nourishes
my very soul, you're my radiant source of vitamin D
As I lent you my tank top, my thoughts were tangled
in a web of our silence, as we shared a kiss that lingered
long, leaving both social tanks on E.

Your lips remain sealed, yet they whisper of fervent
dreams, each smile a fleeting glimpse into your passion
The career you envision unfolds like a cinematic masterpiece,
with you at the helm, boldly declaring, “Action!”

As my admiration for your curves surely deepens,
your unwavering positivity are all these straight lines;
unyielding, resolute, and always moving forward
Your essence is akin to a pen, sharp and purposeful,
having a point to make, making it so easy for me to
spell it out to you;  U R truly Gorgeous.

A woman, bears the responsibility
of bearing her husband a son –
His legacy

Yet, even as she presents him
with a daughter, she gives him
a gift he never knew he had –
A soft heart

And in all that she offers him,
she provides a reason for him to
embrace the fullness of,

                                 Fatherhood!

To anyone who cares enough to care for me, though I couldn't care enough myself...

Take care!

Sigh; why does everything I write turn out to be a poem? Why did I have to be the one so attached to their emotions? Why couldn't I have been a doctor,  a lawyer or even a **** mechanic? Instead I'm just this hopeless unheard poet.

I envy people for not what they have, but what I can never be. I can't be a man, and I'd never be a pretty enough woman. Can't stand up for myself, but constantly get cut down when I stand up for others. I've been labelled a ***** by my own brothers.

I know they don't say it in person- but I hear their thoughts in all those disappointing sighs.
And I've disappointed all the women in my life, and still act hopeful that I'll get a wife.

I'm bullied by friends, bullied by strangers Bullied by family, bullied by myself and people's impatience.

This wasn't supposed to be a poem!

Maybe it's a rant; maybe it's a way to cheer me up for not feeling like a man. Thinking about death while listening to jazz. Seems like I'm still far from the end, of a slow death.

Why won't I fall short out of breath, why won't God put me out of my misery because it's a misery being such a disappointment.

I can't trust my dreams, as they lead me to nothing good to hold onto. I trusted someone else's advice, and got accused by them; for being so stupid to listen to them. Then again;
I'd still take their advice again and again

I've been accused of being gay, and maybe my life would have been better if I swung that way.
But okay I could accept that accusation- still not when people say I'm so spoiled, to spoil my mood. Now I'm always doing things just for something to prove.

This wasn't supposed to be a poem!

I guess I couldn't stop these words from flowing. I'm just caught up in my usual emotions.

A note to some, noteworthy ending remarks.
For every tissue to a tear, is a tear to a new scar.

A suicide note to a public, in secret, away from family and friends. I'll be gone by this moment's end- saying goodbye to the old me. See you in ten..

                      surely this is now an end.

what has happened to your hand, its touch has gone so cold – you
don’t hold me as you did before; that first time we fell in love, we
could spend hours of the night tangled to each other. I wasn’t as
pretty as the other girls, still when you held me, you felt a sense of power - an ownership. you never demanded much from me; you understood how shy I got at the beginning – yet that never stopped you from acting so possessive

even in the times I knew you cheated on me – going after those with much smoother skin, and who held that bolder strike; I knew that you’d never forget me – I was your first after all. I gave you the belief in your dreams, gave you confidence to show off your talents, helped you through your struggles, gave you a meaningful way to express your problems. darling I was your unshakable addiction, the mistress who added value to your diction, darling I was with you when you wrote your very first poem


what has happened to your hand, its touch has gone so cold – I hope
you found the right girl, still I’ll love you forever even when you get a
touch of every one of them in their words.





“And I too will love you forever, my first love…
my write, my words, forever my first poem that
came from you… my Eversharp pen."

Black as fair,
a tone to your dark skin.
Many pieces of joy entwined in your curly hair.

I swear,
by the promises I make to self,
I'll long for something as you, ever so rare.

Tender and care,
for you I must. I probably will I swear.
Loving a black queen in so deep,
by the love of her depth

Lift my eyes inside my skull'
Searching for the words I;
Can quickly pen down:
Write a Poetic piece,
And for a moment feel proud.

do you love me Bipolar –
My heart is in a bit of disorder;
ordering my emotions, suspended by
the winds blowing me into my
Mood swings.

Does loving me sometimes feel
too irrational – do I
give you a sense of Phobia; I
cannot Lie; I have

thanatophobia

and the someone I love,
that I fear losing - in All honesty,
is losing myself to Love…

Lyrics without thought, in this mind quick
to thwart what is an innocent thought

And to reminisce every mistake and fault
ostentatiously, by means to flaunt

There's that familiar sinner in my heart
for the dear me—a red poetic of the hart

I'm so quick in my faith to quickly doubt
despite the flaming desires I have of so much
will to display; but the fears are quick to dout

As the longing to be close to a cost
that of which my purpose is enough the amount
To mount in the fixed place of this mysterious world
lest must I spin my head countless times, and be whirled

As liken to a devilish smile; cheery of guilty cares
must I be trained to despise my lies
And be washed of immortality by a birthed virtues
****** bathed with necessary lyes

I thank Christ for such a sacrifice of an enemy
hoping joyously that he dies
His risen story has imparted a new colour to my
life; a permanent impact as it comes to dyes

As two words can sound and look the same—
steadfast is the love of God to allow me to be
saved by grace. As I often gaze at the words of
how His love remains the same

Unlike the lyrics in my head,
so quick to change

This language of love—

how do I express it without the words...

where do I place it without the touch...

when do I show it without my eyes...  

what do I have without the heart...

who do I love without the reason...

and why do I fall in without the love?

                  My love language...

I am a riddle;
  (only a few understand)

An unspoken poem;
      (few will find)

As shall by the gates,
do wisdom and I meet.

A riddle of purpose, &
the answer we all seek.

A whole lot of lies swimming in a pond – ducking the truth; as I
threw a rock into the water, and it unfortunately croaked, to the
misery of those frogs. I watched as a young lady was kissing to
find her Prince charming; and I still don’t know if she ever
found him, because she had a frog in her throat.

Ah nature, with its crude nature – it laughs in the wind at night,
blowing branches as you try to sleep. And when crickets decide
to mate, is it the whole world that goes quiet as those insects?
And if it’s a game of love they play, I surely hope it isn’t ironically
like cricket – making a few runs of the person running on your
mind; while giving it all you can to have a ball with them. But
they only seem to bat an eyelid.

But aren’t you all sometimes hungry for love, like the sea that
hungers to conquer more land? Let’s erode these old cliffs, of our
own peaks, to be left with the bare essentials. And would you
mistake me as someone who falls in love with one’s essentials –
saying it with my chest; to bare one’s chest? Maybe my love isn’t
as wet, to water down those starved parts of your heart.
Darling, I’m just a small pond.

But wasn’t it a pond, where the Princess had found her love?

A body to face fatigue
All in a world of make believe
As love makes me weak in the knees
Also blowing my mind like leaves off a tree
Always missing the misfortune of someone's glee
As it seems common paying a fee to be free
And the R is really the real realness of all of we
As rhyming is easy, but the rhythm not as peasy
A little melted cheddar on a ****—all for anyone
calling my writing corny and cheesy

Be as it may, in my non constructive mysterious ways
Best believe I woke up today with some talent to display
Better to tell it as it is, maybe on the course of wordplay
Besides, life always feels like a game; to only be called strange
—to we all say oh, before an okay

Casually writing, and easily rhyming
Could be a next word of each line I'm deciding
Coarsely the can do spirit of striking another form of style, yet
we don't know if it's the same place of this twice striking lightening

Duality done by the dues of a dualing two
Doesn't make much sense in fighting a battle you're
always meant to lose

Excess mentality of my supposed masculinity
Exactly what it takes of a world to belittle me

For the focus of an unfocused mind lacks the right sight
Fixed enlightenment could mean being honoured on
the bright side

Galloping choices aren't the ones to remain stable
Goodnight kisses are of course a lover's choice,
of having butterflies by their naval

Hurry home to be whole on a homely manner
Homemade appearances don't share enough
experiences, even if being the best planner

I know my greatest faults, and I must admit
It is the hardest thing to speak out your failures,
even just a bit

Juggling time is liken to throwing it all for the air
Just don't be surprised when you don't catch it all,
and want to complain about life being so unfair

Kindness in modern times has become a self taboo
Knowing that you could give a hand, but they'd
always want something more from you

Laziness is all any one of us can share at a given
Lazarus could have laid in his tomb a little longer, but the call
of Jesus wasn't lazy, and both weren't too lazy to be risen

Money is the root of all evil
—perhaps to those buried in wealth
More as with selfish intent, only taking you to think
about yourself

None is greater than another if ever told
Neither can escape getting old, at once being owed,
and being owned by their own contradicting words of bold

Opposites do attract
Oppositions do want to settle things in a match
Opportunity is open to all hands; just learn early
on how to catch

Passive thought delays passion
Past mistakes tied to the mind, delays you massive
in doing an action

Quiet thoughts are a quiet night of all beautiful stars
Quality is the above all of quantity, when showing
exactly who you are

Rarely do you know your destination at the beginning
Revel in the journey, it's self discovery, and all the
lessons in your proceeding

Somewhat of our being wants to be something
Someone out there has it all, yet feels like nothing

Teeth help frame out a pretty smile
The same of which can frame out a disguise to
tell a pretty lie, once in a while

Under the skin of a sinner, is the skin of guilt felt
Unfortunately the guilt of some is all in vein,
to not have those sins swiftly dealt

Variety isn't always a guarantee of various options
Various people have their varies, but all depending
on various costings

Wailing about life is a life size whale in your mouth
Watch the words you say; you could drown people
with the pointless spit all coming out

X-Ray train your wisdom to see through deceit
Xylophone train your ears to hear the scale of hidden
meanings behind one's proud speech

Young were we all at a time
You yourself are the one to decide the end of your prime

Zero tolerance to those who say you don't matter
Zealous character is in high demand; no matter your
age, ***, upbringing, religion, and personality—you
are here for a reason, and not to be cut off from life
like a cancer

...as from A to Z, we are all special deep in our DNA,
                                                     both you and me

I was sitting by the mailbox waiting on love,  stiff as
a recently washed shirt- sitting on an ironing board
I’m sorry if you catch me in a sour mood, there’s this moody
spirit that let me fall in love with the echoes hitting the wall-
While my voice was shouting at the wind; I could hardly breathe
My lover played a tune with my beard, as if they were guitar strings-
But I couldn’t complain to this lioness, for she’s the roar of a
mistress’s hungry temper

But I still love her so, still from the days of our courtship- and every
night she opens up to me as a suitcase, and I bare the luggage of her
nightly sores, with these bags hanging under my eyes-
I still love her so, as her chatter mouth is like a tap running,
and I’m her sink catching all that gossiping spit-

I still love her so, even as she’s an office desk covered in endless
papers, when she starts to feel like a piece of work-
I still love her so, cos she firstly showed me all of her flaws,
so nothing she does surprises me at all; still she was pleasantly
surprised that I still chose her, to be my wife

Floating dreams upon this barren mattress –
Attempting to revive their hues, painting a vivid live caption
Sinking into the glow of a smile; I hope my faith will catch me
The drum roars of a heartbeat, anxious- still my soul is dancing
Two skins caught in themselves- kissing in a moment’s magic
Allow me to wish upon a star my love, that this sensation is everlasting.

You're only as strong
knowing your greatest weakness
If man knows not what they fight for,
why must he fight at all?

An open palm to aid the people,
closed one to protect things most cherished.

To force another to fight their battles,
shouldn't be as so.
One who cannot fight battles within them,
cannot fight the many more battles outwards.
If man knows not what they fight for,
why must he fight at all?

But if by any chance
one could win a war without fighting
and spilling blood
He'd be a fool not to take it.

One must know the worth
of what they fight for
to truly value it of it's all.

Be it,
family, integrity, ambitions or cause.
One fights with all that he has.
And only gives up
if they no longer have the strength of Lord.

You can hear the violence in the silence
Even when the rain washes your tears –
  some pain still reigns; man sailing thru

These clouds, and their tears galore; wouldn’t
You know every tomorrow comes too late –
  exorcisms to clear those who’ve ghosted you

The past hangs on an arm’s annexation
Holding the reigns of your mind’s territory –
  we wake as soldiers, ready to fight today

Winning small battles means nothing to war  
A world of peace could exist, en route to God –
   we could go as far, by how long we pray

I could have seen you yesterday,
Recalling a lover’s patch of kisses –
signing that love pact. War over love,
though when is love enough
for all wars to be done?

A world of peace could exist,
but it would mean we all don’t exist.

the tiny flower,
that grows quietly by my window seal-

still has her appeal to live;
as i water her daily,
to keep both her's and my dream.

for even when...

we grow through the toughest of times;
our deepest roots help us survive.

so shall we both grow-
tiny quiet flower; with the strongest of will.

Mmmm....

The oak is strong; as it must be from cutting words,
Tough skin and brave,
Calm handed and determined,
Bright smile and focused,
Wise eyes and ownership; life does require this.

You are strong—but not like gods,
You are strong—but not like machines,
You are strong—but not like currencies,
You are stronger when you choose to...

Grow in the winds, rooted in time,
And fruitful of a cooling love under shade.

I am a Great oak.

Knitted together by colours,
Thread by all experiences.
And through God's Love needle;

I'm stitched with his image.
Living in a material world;

But in an the after-life,
No longer in its texture.

In the quiet corners of my
mind, I get lost
in my words –
as are my thoughts swirling
like leaves in the wind.
My notebook and pen become my
abditory:
a secret refuge where I
can disappear.

__

And it is here, in this
cherished hideaway, that I
lose
myself completely,
enveloped in the embrace
of
ink and paper,
crafting a reality
all my own.

the secret slip of underwear
he was caught off guard; unaware
widened mouth and could only stare
gazing at her pond of ten thousand sounds,
how easy could it be,— a bit too fishy
knowing he wasn't the first to go skipping a
few rocks

but as a rock in a hard place
between a devilishly charming smile on her face,
she was, "a good friend's friend"
and he thought that made them "just friends"

and not one to play cliches
"i don't want this," he made it as clear to say
in that room at night, he wasn't interested in her,
and it was clear as day

he came only to help pen down a study report
but perhaps the con of hoping there'd be much
concentrate; were the first letters
written by her, wanting to spill ink in a little *******

                        click!

that idea was well tucked away and hidden,
like the tip of his favourite silver pen.

As you reflect on a promise of tender hands; tiny
tremors shake your will to hold yourself together-
Tethering lines of kisses guiding your eyes to a moon
as you are a bright smile of the day, and the cool
whisper of hope late by noon

We’ve been lost in the yesterday of a garden filled with
flowers, that grow brighter as I look at their hues- I’m giving
my affection by an attention to pick at some petals: darling we
Both grew into something special; through a dream bending
my will to ever say no to you

Sometimes I get it wrong- especially when it comes to the
unspoken language of your eyes, daring deep inside my soul
when we’re alone to our own thoughts on this long drive home
My aim was a bit off, off into the places I think helps me better
into seeing your pain- but I can’t read your brain, measure any
of your griefs, or attest to being able to share all that you have
experienced

Still, I can offer my very dreams as an escape

My dear Bambi lover, I notice a hint of fear in your eyes tonight —
fleeing from the glint of light that dances within my eyes. It was never
my aim to send you fleeing, my dear.

Even though my affection blooms most brightly beneath the warming
hues of sunrise- fret not, for we can find solace in each other’s arms,
cradled by the soothing melodies of our cherished memories for
another twilight

Who am I,
But the meaningless purpose, set out
To echoes of their tears— dancing their fires
upon each tongue. Am I wrong wanting not,
to be as equal to parentages?

What does it mean to be free; to be not
Set to be, or set free in a world, only not to be
Anything it recognizes— for the freer person in
this world, are only but the dead. So must I,
sacrifice my life, to then feel alive?

My time each day, is all amalgamation of
Escapeless breath. Oh, isn’t it such a waste to
Be young; for the subtle interest of being ill trained
By the perception of the Owed?

For our youth is truly a debt to those
who train us to be better—
But it’s a lesson not meant to be free,
for when you meet their age, you like them,
feel something is owed.

“Oh, where is the time, I had invested in you,
The wisdom and guidance my
hand laid upon your head?
For from the full of my flesh, I raised you up,
From being a fool. I had decided your
purpose from what I had seen fit,”

Enough then said; to ask of you again,
who am I, who am I then?

i seen a dog bite it's tail today;
a silent reminder of chasing things left
behind, is the cause of you being stuck in
circles.

stop chasing a past more than looking
ahead to the
future.

Emerald jealous eyes, over the dominion of the clock;
Unshackled by the chains of authority, for who can
Predict the beginning of time or the path it shall traverse?
Time, the ultimate liberator of existence, flows like water,
Shapeless yet potent, wielding an influence that touches
Every soul.

Time, the most cunning of thieves, robs any idea
Of having more time. It slips through fingers
Like sand, giving short nights; relentless demands
Of an overbearing master, giving us longer days.

The sun surprisingly reflects against
your yellow dress; barrier languages between us both
Old memories of such a coy smile; your love’s rarity
and royalty are trimmed with so much purple
Tired old bones desperately trying to pop back in place,
under the sunshine popping out to cheer me up
When it chooses to appear from out of the clouds;
it’s flashing that skirt once more.

Embracing your love while plunging deeper into the
silent sea of solitude: it’s a struggle to stay afloat,
The thankless night calls out for weary souls- feeling
abandoned in their search for solace; as the sanctuary of
angels seem to drift further away. Isolation and despair
that fills the night air.

It feels distant and elusive; trying to find those words
to express one’s love for another- even in their comforting
presence; all the words are quietly leaving them
Adding to the overwhelming sense that it only gets harder
knowing what to do, after you confess your love to a crush.

In this modern age,
every man is just looking for a hole to fill,

I’m just looking to fill
the heart-shaped hole in my chest
to find a love that is honest and so real…

Cut the Music, let the Nights play –
Resting my mind in the tune of Your sweet voice
Cushions and songs; the city lights Purr
Always so Curious about what happens in its
Streets – like a cat at any twitching thing
          
As I searched for the key to all her lost dreams;
Tears in their place, those Girls lost in city streets
The Room was messy, a light bulb barely flickered
In the dark nobody sees your tears, Your forced smiles
Yet, we always know that silhouette touch of a body

Sadly, curiosity seduced Me; loneliness consumed Me
Gentle perfume pulled me inside, to Sweetened eyes
My cold heart was Searching, that it sank in warm music
Under the Canopy shade of covered sheets, vowing never
To leave –

while pieces of the rain remains
lost on the leaves – my tears hit the ground
slowly after they have painted my face

still more fragile;
thirsty for water as I keep my eyes open

searching for a picture of you, but the cloud's
tears mix with my own, blurring up my glasses

the sun had peeled away itself
blinded by a shade of heavy clouds – heavy emotions
as emotional as I get when I know you’re so far

it's raining and I need you

Falling in love; well at least falling for the person- the narrative
of our love, a romance narrated from a distance — seen in third
person. You’re the third person I find myself whispering, “I love
you,” sharing so much about myself, sharing so much that it
aches to be so personal.

Sometimes my words disappear under your breath; I’m fading
away, and not feeling as myself; no longer existing as a person-
impersonal.

I catch glimpses of uncertainty in your eyes, and I sense that my
many personalities can be overwhelming- please don’t take it so
personal. You sometimes feel diminished in their presence, as if
you’re non-personal

Yet, as the day draws to a close, my greatest desire remains:
to know you deeply and to call you, my person.

Choke on the lies;
but the truth also hard to digest.
As to hunger for words,
to be fed my worth of their love;
Born by a tone of voice-
A child indeed of bless.

May the excuses be;
as wild as I am to self (Maybe)
Tamed by softest words of love.
But its only in the above;
man seeks truth of Heavens not seen.

So I will be-
better known by my words.
Even if they go unheard;
all these words are my worth.

I’d long sincerely to be misplaced under the
stars, basking in the ethereal glow of a night sky.
—ostensibly jubilant; as it mirrors the depth
and passion of a love once shared.

For in this beautiful space we’ve created
together; every moment becomes a
beloved memory, beautifully etched into
the fabric of space, time and my soul.

Perchance, I would have given
you the world; — that which I do not own,
still could I own the very space of your past
broken heart?

And to a sinking story; desperately trying to find its depth –
when two people walk together in love, would they at least
share their story with others, of those important first steps?
But would you build shopping carts in the market place of love –
going round, and round, till we crash into the boundary walls
like excited go-karts?

Wouldn’t you make good butter kisses, that slip off the cheek –
telling me that you fight to speak up for yourself; owning up
to that bruised lip. I’ve heard pots, and pans being hit all over
town; those shelving love, and hoping shame doesn’t fall down.
But the pots have gone cold; like no one has been around – but
when your glass eyes fall down, would you hear their emptiness
in that cold sound?

Of course, she tells all her friends that she still keeps in touch,
and never that she misses his touch. They don’t talk that much;
but find it in good taste to ask about the other’s mum. “I hope she’s
not doing too much. Does she still think about me being her son?”

****, love can be really much, breakups a bit too rough –
but in the growing pains of it, we learn to finally grow up!

As the searing, ashen smoke erupts violently from
its flaring nostrils, it envelops me in a suffocating
Embrace, each inhalation a cruel reminder of the
scalding heat that sears my delicate skin.

I am crushed beneath the weight of its colossal hooves,
like a forgotten stone lost in the depths of a murky,
Unyielding puddle — its foreboding silhouette, crowned
with a mane as dark as the abyss, gallops through the
Labyrinth of my thoughts, casting a chilling shadow that
clings to me, a relentless spectre that whispers of doom.

This creature, a true harbinger of death, exudes a frigid,
acrid scent of regrets that seem to claw at the very core
Of my existence — night after night, my dreams are invaded
by tormenting visions, vivid and unyielding, mapping out
the grim path to my own funeral – a foul stench; chilling
reminder of cold regrets that claw at my very last breath.

I see a pristine white coffin, adorned with stark white
blooms, marred by the crimson stains from my own wrists.
And amidst these agonizing dreams, the ominous beast
stands tall, solemnly bearing the weight of my coffin towards
An unknown afterlife, a spectral horse of death draped in
the deepest shadows, embodying the very essence of my
self-inflicted demise.

I am man who wants a lot though – I hope I win the lotto! I hope
she didn't try to park her heart in my mind, "where did she park
her car though?" Depression rides passenger, like some useless
cargo – I've studied my drive for a loaned passion, keeping an eye
on that car note. But sometimes I wonder where this car goes;
and I haven’t met the kiss of peace, just like I never seen Chicago.

I have a lot of goals – but scores of hurt; from questions of self-worth.
Tell me the maker of mismatched hopes, and the creator of dreams
from their birth? Who first put a curse on the tongue, to speak a few
curse words – who went that under someone, to underestimate when
they show a few nerves?

Would someone show me the why to the end of one's poverty -
better yet, how to own your misfortunes as first steps to fortune,
and living your worth, as your own property.

I am man who wants a lot - a whole lot of answers, to the questions
about the script of my life story; to live up to its plot.

Falling…
into place, of everything we yearn to do;
-falling in love as the rain falls down
From every crevice of your most secret and private parts
heavy cravings to be touched, yearning for the warmth
and intimacy that only you and I can share.

The weather outside seems cold
as you lay upon a bed soft as a cloud,
inviting us to sink into its comforting embrace
There’s a succulent wetness, a shiver of anticipation
that races down your spine.

You are a mesmerizing portrait of ephemeral beauty
that dazzles my senses and leaves me breathless
Your image lingers in my thoughts
as we exhale the heat from our mouth’s chamber
the pleasure to my yearning lips upon yours;
In such a thought: smiling, knowing all is falling into place.