Rooibos
—late night thoughts
in a cupful, to the tee caught in the awe,
or in the ways the hot beverage tickles the
tongue floor

     ....one sip leads to more and more

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 –

those late texts
till my phone dies,
laughing by the corner
as i try not to,
  make a sound.
and spending late calls
on limited wi-fi.

Even on this long road of thoughts; some days I don’t know my way
with words – as to describe your face; it just drives me so insane.
“You’re so pretty,” feels a bit too plain; so it always bears down on
me, this pressure. A rock in a hard place, and I’m also being pressed
with stones, biting on my words, that I bruised my lip. Slowly sinking
deeper, and letting blood flow – being so afraid of your reflection of
me, staring back from your eyes, as my tears dance along a running
stream. How you’ve become this silhouette of a perfect dream.

But I'm not as deep as I seem to be; just like swimming in a pool, I
first need to find my feet. And I’m only a pebble against your skin;
trying to skip across our conversations, and finding a reason to kiss.
But instead, I'm laughing in the bathroom mirror, letting the echoes
of that room wash me clean. And it would seem in vain to say I
fell in love with you – even as I wear your smile under my skin.

So I quietly let those very six words find their rest, and go back to
my bed, and sleep – cause who the hell really feels the depth of
those words, over a late-night text?

Never too wise to stay up late, with the opposite friend.

The frequency of a kiss, is the rate
Of us both having a matching heartbeat
Rising vibrations; as my eyes start to feel
Baked; staring too long at the heat of your face

Catching smoke, in the fire of your lips,
Smokers count the puffs out of their vape;
Tears turn into vapour; vapours slowly
Become the ashes, slowly turning into waste

Maybe we're just wasting time, as we love
To just be sitting quietly, in this comfy place
Still, this feeling here, will always feel so great.
And lately I've been staying up way too late —
But did I at least tell you that I love you; if not
I'm so, so sorry, I know now, I was a bit too late!

Cos I don't really party that much; always
Taking my time to adjust to any new touch —

Cos you gave me a touch of a new Love.

Airing out ***** laundry,
is in turn, walking on a thin line —  

The very line where those garments dangle;
but let a gentle breeze stir up, and suddenly,
That foul scent rushes back to you, and starts
to assault your nose,

Catching you off guard, and before
you know it!

Leaf.

The ground you've now touched.
I hold you now, hoping your fall from grace never felt so rushed.

Green of your skin, till a couple days it becomes brown to be then part of the air,
Fly away though, to wherever winds of Earth shall take you. Hopes of love you find out there.
Days pass endlessly as you've fallen away from your tall Mother.
Surely she misses you but knows you time to be gone is now. So a farewell to you and your older brother.

Be free as you choose to be, while I stare out a window sometimes wishing to be like you.
My heart may long and sorrow  for a couple days, yet it seeing you to your freedom will change its blue.


Fly away dear leaf. Fly away.

Mix a bit of dye inside your tired tears- perhaps you want
to dye that colour of the ugly world you see; doesn’t fear grip
my hands, their surfaces fragrant with the scent of decaying leaves;
Shape me into the very skins trampled beneath an indifferent
pair of feet  

If only I could be a speck of dust—  
oh, that fleeting taste of recognition; to possess a name
held in high esteem—suffering. Or perhaps it’s merely a mark,
like a hidden dialect I whisper to myself when no one is around.  

I exist like the foliage of a tree, leaves drifting around us,
crushed and scattered; observing them through the window.  
But who, in truth, is observing us?

It seems my emotions must find their rest,
Yet slumber eludes me-, a constant test.
As torment resides, reflected in my gaze,
Slowly turning to ashes-, tomorrow's haze.

Once, I was lost in dreams, in a forest so grand,
But now my skin feels naught, scorched by the land.
As the same scorching heat, consuming the trees,
Leaving me numb, devoid of all pleas.

As reality peels off my eyes, like a fleeting tattoo,
Where nothing feels real-, a transient view.
Mirrors shattered, in a mind of fragile glass,
A fractured reflection, and a mask that won't last.

Sorrowful tears, with impure intent,
Washing away all, as they're freely spent.
Like water beneath my sink, dripping away,
Taking with it all, in a sorrowful sway.

Vultures I rely on, hoping to evade,
Becoming their prey, in this world's cruel charade.
For it's easy to be devoured, my dear,
In this unforgiving world, where shadows leer.

Family will disappoint you when you least expect it,
money will often fail you, slipping through your fingers
just when you need it the most.

Successes, no matter how plentiful, will inevitably run dry,  
time, a merciless force, will never be on your side, slipping
away faster than you can grasp it.

However, your dreams will stand as an unwavering companion,
that greets you each morning and accompanys you as you sleep.

And even in death, your dreams will continue to live on
in the hearts and minds of others, becoming a part of your legacy.
—a lasting testament to your indomitable spirit and
the mark you have left behind.

People crawl under skins,
calling you vain
Picking at thoughts,
to call one picky
Act to turn the other cheek,
to call another cheeky.

Life with complicated people,
much complicated ourselves
In over our heads,
won't get over ourselves.

Another day gone,
but days aren't lost for us
The best of mankind,
means to keep on looking
Wishing for it on make believe
genies, will only rub off
Nothing is above down
to earth people
Living on solid ground for growth.

If we've forgotten
how to grow,
What fruit of us will it show?

Descendants falling hungry,
of knowledge not taught
We're responsible for legacies better
than ones of us in the past.

Taste that stings lips'
Sweetest to tongue;
Refreshes my thirst:

A bite of love;
As a fruit of worth'

Bright yellow smile'
Bright red lips;
And a body wave flow.

                She's not my world'
                But she's my girl;
                Made of-
                Lemon Cherry Water.

Swimming in pink, oh the blush of tears — as you tear me away
from my original nesting; a petal ripped away from their mother
flower. Watch closely as I fall to the ground, unloved- as you
softly murmur your melody of, “he loves me, he loves me not”

Sweetheart, it’s painfully clear that your heart holds no
affection for me whatsoever. You love to let me down.

You see, I’m naturally an introvert — quiet corners, deep
thoughts, the type to overthink a handshake. But life? Life
keeps putting me on stages, in conversations that feel like
marathons for my soul. So yeah, stepping out as an extrovert?
That’s not performance, that’s survival. A daily challenge
with no dress rehearsal.

I’m a softie — but not the breakable kind. No, this softness?
It’s pressure-cooked from hard times. It knows the weight of
silence, and how to turn pain into patience. I’m not here to
pretend to be hard — I’m here to show that being real is rarer.

Now, let’s talk love. I’m a full-blown lover boy — heart open,
arms wide, playlist ready. But don’t get it twisted — I’m not in
the business of having my love used as someone else’s stepping
stone. I’ve retired from being the emotional charity.

And my smile? Oh, it’s got layers. A whole palette of moods.
Bright for the world, but the darker shades? Those are reserved.
A private gallery. Only for the ones I cherish, the ones who earn
the right to see me unfiltered.

So if you meet me — don’t just notice the calm, or the kindness,
or the charm. Know there’s a storm I’ve already walked through
to be standing this still.

This pen is feeling heavy;
Writing out this weighing letter.

Writing my lyrics to the Heavens;
wondering if they'll get the message.
I won't waste on pretending. It feels
Like you've blocked the entrance.
Often you seem to forget us, as the
Devil is always out to get us.

Given a shorthand,
As it feels little for change.
And it's so sad, what you have left
Is out for game. As we're out for
Gain, straight after we call your name.

My off thoughts, in odds of
Dreaming, screaming in my head;
While battling it's demons. Deep
Thoughts, and their sunken eyes
Inside my hollow pit in my skull.
Trying my best to seem calm, stuck
In the depth of my head, as I won't try
To pretend. In it's dark abyss, a rose
Inside a grave feels more like a
                                Pretty death.

Chest beating, my emotions themselves
Could be bleeding, or leaking.
On this paper I pen wrinkles,
And leave so many stains.

I'm a tyre swing, tired of it.
Rolling over to a newest trend;
Spinning in the wheel of life, going
Round in it's constant circles, as
Everything in it tries to hurt us.

Could you point me out to a purpose.
Showing interest in my life. Truly
You could make a prophet. And let's,
Word out our blessings, instead of
Counting our losses.

I do hope you get this message.

Sincerely signed;

A child down on Earth,
Looking up to Heaven.

To my future wife...

How the present is the many moments, you and
I in our youth will cherish. But perhaps it's the future's
investment, we find so precious.

You and I haven't met, and we're all looking for
a lover of next. But why do you expect so much
from love, of that which we don't have? The tenderness
many will share to another; but what of us to tend
our own land. Do you understand; that all you
long to give, isn't as easy if it's not something you've once
received. How we live, are from lessons we've been taught
at birth, and kept to heart.

I wasn't taught how to truly love. As Love wasn't all I got.

I went out for the discovery of it, as a teen being lost. I've made
many mistakes, some that have given my character shape.
But often past mistakes, brings the present's shame.

As a lizard sheds their skins; I shed my skins of discomfort.
Vulnerable, and bare to the times I've almost lost it. (That being my love)
Beauty soon fades as with age. Some nights; the love
I give may not feel the same as yesterday's.

And I'm not one to often change; but I rather try and make it.
But why would I believe I can change one's self in the choice of
being in love with them.

"Oh I can change him/her,"
the phrase being said more than enough.

But this first letter points out the views of me, into the
views of you. And as I wrote this, the picture view of us,
being as one from two.

Sincerely;

Your future husband.

Dear darling.

I'm staring at the sun, with the light
in between your eyes; and this feeling inside
of your bright smile. Summer kisses, caught inside of
it's denial. And the filled cases of your love; trying not to
lose this trial.

It's those lips that shapes that smile; those last skins giving
depth to those thighs. And writing about you; that helps
me with these rhymes. I'm in the directions towards love;
I'll meet you by all of the signs. I'm found; but it's a new love
I still need to find.

So by the end of this short letter line,
my penned down emotions are red signed.

Sighed,

A red love you and I will find.

Dearest Moms,

Here's to the day for All our Mothers out there, to be Spoiled and drowned in Love.
Let's take a moment to appreciate the fact You were created by that Man up above.
Here's to all the Chefs of our homes, always filling up our Tummy.
When the dark scares us at night, we instinctively called out Mommy.

To the ones who brought us to see this Beautiful World,
And though sometimes we find it hard to show our love, for sometimes our Love for You is so Untold

But despite all that, we Love you All.
Thank you for just your mere Existence, for a Mother's love is just so Tall.

So to this Mother's Day, dearest Moms, enjoy all the Spoils and Love.
Thank you dearly for holding us tightly with your Love and Care  wrapped around on us like a Velvet Glove.  

We Love You All ..

Love for breakfast,
filling a cereal bowl of-
      confessions

Milk of her tears,
sugar piles of his affairs.
Biting into the Apple of:
  someone else's love

"Do you love me now,
and her later,"

She begged the question,
after she found texts of-
    a lover's liaison.

Summarised tone of speech – let me imagine
the heat of your touch like a fine cigarette;
Your picture in my mind is such a drag.

Open ears to your deceptive voice, callous lines
of ******* in your words; so pure in white lies.
To my tough skin, your deceptive voice will
touch me – not in softness, but piercing into my
Conscience; knowing that even the prettiest looking
flowers aren’t the bunch of friends to hangout with.

Liars have the sweetest smiles, the sourest kisses
after the impression of their love wears off –
Like chewing gum, sweet at the start, until that
taste of nothing chews you up.

From the liar's mouth is the war with themselves,
battling with which lie they’ll use this day.
Telling you that they care so much for you -
liars are the sweetest.

I have endured the gallows, revolutions,
the many twists of time, and the crashing waves
of change that have battered the shores of my life.
Through the decades that have come and gone,
I have stood as a witness to the rhythmic dance of history,
embracing the insights gleaned from its elegant movements.

The first time I encountered it, I meandered along a forest path,
surrounded by the murmurs of ancient trees, my senses finely
tuned to the secrets hidden beneath their mossy embrace.
Oblivious to what lay beneath, my curiosity propelled me
to the brink of revelation, where the curtain was drawn back,
unveiling a realm where time paused and possibilities
unfurled infinitely before me.

My skin, once marked by the trials of existence,
now glows with the light of resilience and grace, shimmering
like the morning sun as it spills golden rays upon the earth
at spring's first awakening—a tender reminder of the beauty
that emerges from enduring the darkest of nights.

When you’re dancing underwater, as with feet so deep
inside of the ground. In my absence; you feel so free
as I’m not around. So shy to show off your two left feet,
I’m the least embarrassed to see you at you’re cheeks redness;
as like two overripe apples, (hanging around desire)

Toes shaky as the business hands at the longest meet
and greet, I’m so overjoyed as you dance a night;
would you at least dance one last dance with me?
While singing a happy tune with joyful tears, two weeks of
water works, and choking words, (of how to explain my love)

So accustomed to being here before, crushing my heart,
just to impress a crush. Speed dating conversations; just to
get a feel of the rush.

High on emotions; careful not to crash, as plain expressions
does many harm. But who’s going to put up with the bull,
of the sheets I use to cover the beds of love; I've made to rest
away from despair?

Flattery is key, a twisting lock into a glimpse of your heart,
One last dance it seems we all have; under the music of
life's grand stage, (do enjoy the show)

I enjoy watching you at your most vulnerable, as I'm so
vulnerable in my eyes barely focused on anything else
but you. We all live a single life, but a better chance of it when
we dance together in it as two.

So shall you and I dance?

Act as if I'm not moved by movies,
how'd that play out if it's not seen
Flip away the motion,
picture me stuck in a box of a T.V screen.

Why I speak like this,
is a person who often lives remote.
Losing control
as I try to channel every emotion.
People live to have no Parental Guidance,
all live their lives watching in due caution.

We've rated ourselves explicit,
our actions can be offensive content
The biggest of man profits from
the suffering of others.
The world is like one filled with many vultures.

The stage is set,
love in this picture shouldn't be misplaced.
Lights, camera, action!
Give your all of true love,
until none is left.
Life didn't come with scripted lines,
we can't always imitate all that we've read.

BUT,

We all have a role to play,
do be weary of the size
No matter the camera time,
play your role well to the fullest.
At the end of life,
hold high that Academy Award prize.

When all is said and done,
you'll be known as part of a "great people"
Live this one life well, there's no sequel.
When all is said and done,
you'll know, "That's a wrap people"

Saturday,
really where's the vibe?
Prefer to party inside,
in the subtle chaos of my mind.
Maybe I just want to stay dreaming,
it's really a chilled day outside.
As troubles of the weekday still lingers.  

For this day I'll tell you a story.

A nostalgic kid,
Saturday morning waking up to the screen.
Wonder what adventures are playing?
Wasn't a teen,
yet watching four of them as a kid.
Always snapping while watching four turtles.
As were feelings amid,
watching reruns of TMNT.

Flip the channel to younger days,
still much a Rugrat.
Swept under the mat,
wonder as babies did we have reasons to chat?
Wishing I could hide away from family,
hidden away in my secret laboratory.
I wouldn't be vexed,
not a little to live like Dexter.
My advantage is, I don't have a sister.

I found courage as little as I am.
In a world sort of like Eustace Bagge.
I had to become a man,
proud with what was my imperfection.
Where would I be without The X-Men?

Life was always a mystery,
from home to school.
Wish to unmask it all like ****** doo.
Wished to be armoured,
let them call out my name.
A quick watch of Visionaries and Hey Arnold!

Later go save the planet,
all life does matter
Especially those living on it.
A Captain of the show,
earth, wind fire, water and heart.
And my addition would be mind and soul.

The run around of this life,
chasing it only for a prize
A cat chasing a mouse before the mice.
As the world seems to be ******,
tune into the crazy till the afternoon.
Living a flightless life as a Pingu,
I hope it isn't as true.

My list could go on,
but I don't have much of the time.
Neither any of the energon,
how do I then Transform the time?
Is this for me, the Prime?

I must find new adventures,
as like Winnie The Pooh,
An often jumpy tigger,
how so am I rude?
I grew up shy as a piglet,
with a list of all the shows I grew up to.

My life seemed to be a Saturday cartoon.

The suffering rest
Too tired of themselves;
An attire of youthfulness
Clueless, individually in a single line
The good and the often bad
Ugly smiles of the richest people
And the expenses of a poverty lifestyle

Butchered words every time two lovers meet
Lost tongues in pointless over talk; kissing
A feeling is always missing, in between inhale
Exhale the distrust of knowing it won't last
The slowest rushes end off so fast

Fasten your heart around a sleeve
Arm your eyes to their usual war
Pleasures of sight will all **** a man
Tickles of speach blinders to woman's focus
Two of which know it's wrong, but want more and more

Drowning always in debt
Believing you owe the world something
An address to a particular subject,—we're all ode
Owed a reason to all our failures
Questions to all unanswered prayers
Heaven owes a lot in the cryptic lyrics of life

But for the moment, this is life in a nutshell
Trying all to bust a nut, sometimes nuts
And one day it will all crack open in the end

the silence of your shadow is louder when you don’t watch it –
as the memory of someone in your mind, is just a fictional
character of them. this life: walking on the thin lines of what the
eyes have seen; the unseen waits for us at the great beyond.

the narrative of love still waits on loads of blank spaces –
empty smiles towards pretty faces. but until we find the one
that helps us smile in true depth, the ones we meet are truly
just strangers in the end.

and the days love to dash in sands of time – for no one really
has all the time in the world to live out a thousand lifetimes.
still, we’ve lived a thousand experiences of a thousand lives
in this one life. living as bodies, connected by familiar tears,
stranded or motivated by fears, the highs given by the touch
of two skins, we live as bodies, die from our bodies and will
live on as spirits in the end.

                                   and to that end, the end of this poem.

Busy as much; busy as a bee
serving sweet remarks to a Queen
The hours are long, and we’re always
swarming with activity

Everyday business is always so sweet, and
even given a pet named— the retirement
package for it though, kind of stings

Every colleague of mine seems to know
what’s the buzz; and our clientele do carry a
good scent- something like flowers

…just another day for the life of a bee

Loll in a realm of no regards, shuffle the game of life like
a deck of cards — playing into the quest to uncover who
you really are. Each life begins with a question:
“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Will I be a nurturing mother? A father who can provide
for their all,” each life begins with a question – especially now,
as we ponder this curious phenomenon called life; is it still
worth it, at all. Cloaked in whispers of our cherished dreams,
the most fragile among us are those who beam brightly, even
with kinked teeth.

The gentle craving for a richer life is as tender as the insides
of our teeth — revealing everything we risk on the overflowing
platter of those we disdain; initially, it was a pleasure to meet.
Yet, I was lost in my role in this world at first – bestowed a name
at birth, still grappling with its significance in a titled world –
entitled!

Don’t we pretend that’s what we deserve even from man’s great
fall, who inherited their sin galore. I question it all. Don’t we
all act as if we deserve it all, even after humanity’s great fall,
which bestowed us a legacy of sin?

                                I question it all.

Life is a wonder —no wonder I still wonder
how I made it to today. Life is what you make of it —
not like a butler who serves, but a self-made shape
you forge from struggle and grace.

We judge with our eyes, but on Judgment Day,
it won’t be our eyes that matter. And when that day
arrives —whether we walk or run to heaven’s gate —
know that love won't wear the form you tried to fit
into every heart.

To love in part means sometimes we must depart —
leave behind space wide enough for stars to breathe.
The emptiness you find may feel vague, but it’s where
meaning stirs quietly, and the hopes you laid on a lover
might be the very hope that led you astray.

We leave this place as ashes — but never to rest
in an ashtray. Because even dust has destiny,
and fire never forgets what it once warmed.
Life is a wonder — in both a good and bad way.
And maybe that’s enough.

The past is a memory
The present, a moment
And the future will always be an idea...

So let's make memories, just to forget about them
at a moments notice;
As we'll think of an idea towards our futures.

Cotton candy;
of my sweetest dreams,
I taste whenever I fall asleep.

So splendid to be alive;
even in the sour moments,
of this treat of life.

All the shapes and lines;
taught the birds and bees,
the nestling of love,
and nectar of love's
pretty flower.

Life is sweet,
just a bite could tickle
anyone's teeth.

Find your peace;
and a piece of life,
to stick on your lips.


                       This sweet life.

Cuts of grass
leaves in the wind
   a moment to be free

Breathe, heavy sigh
a corpse of time
   death but long slept eyes

Oversharing life on feeds
overshadow foreshadowing needs
    it will all end in the usual tears

A love for I—selfish
a love undeserving—relish
   loving honestly, what is a blemish

Feast your eyes on food for thought
and with sweet nothings sought
   afterwards do keep their word

Life is a written poem
a river of those words flowing
  to know where we are, to keep on going

The life of a lonely poet...

A product of the moving circus,
a round of games in endless circles;
I'm still searching for purpose with a pocket
full of dreams, and old family curses.

That's me; like the tree of my family;
quick to leave when there's no options after plan B.
On a money diet; counting ribs of poverty,
in these busy restaurants; dreaming to swipe for meals
with my eyes closed honestly.
It's been so long; since I've been in a space of thought
were I actually belong.
Been a minute since I've written for so long; that the words
flow into a song.

The life of a lonely poet...

The skies of his life; turns a different shade of blue,
as he sees everything so beautiful in a different view.
The oceans must have kissed the tips of the sky;
all of which happens inside of his mind.
"I've got sometime to write," he tries to make the most of it,
over some work wi-fi.

Writing about a wife with his talented hand;
a love, a tradegy, a dream; mostly writing about
the things he kind of has or had.
Past tense; into future tense, but the present tense;
are all things being so intense.

The best painters of love, are those not in love,
just a picture in their head of love's sort of.
"I kind of; know how it feels,"
but a lonely poet is just writing to the audience's appeals.

Is anything real?

The life of a lonely poet...

So vicious; like the bites of those rough
kisses. That sinking bite on the lips, of a longest kiss.
So wet as two sinking ships; as the kisses are so deep.
He wishes he was writing for a physical Miss,
and having her straight after; and the taste of her lips.

Oh what a life of a lonely poet...

May you echo
smiles of love,
to brighten days
of others.

Love all,
be kind
let go,
move forward.

Let your dreams
be like the
mountain tops.

As we don't
hide behind clouds
we show ourselves
for them to know,
                  who we are.

With a breath of air,
I'd like to feel a little fresh today
like a mint of course,
But I'm perhaps too spicy for the world,
a peppermint too much
Of course my wording would be sharp
at the very tip of my tongue,
Spearmint tasty.

Still like a treat
with all these mints
How wouldn't you think me a little
too sweet.

The long fights,
Worth in winning the small battles
The long nights,
Shine together through the lonely shadows.

Life's battleground
where you stand,
Upon each battle we've won,
come out of them smiling glad.

Remember, you're not the only one.

Take the time—don’t just spend it— to watch your grind,
These dreams are brewed, steeped behind these caffeine eyes.
Still, as the sunrise scripts its golden lines, my gaze still delays
Having to put on a daily mask; trapped in yesterday’s disguise.
All of these borrowed hours lace my breath, thinned and worn,
All these seconds spent on second-guessing myself; I’m torn—
Barely paying attention to obvious life lessons due in reflection;
Skipping those lessons, now I pay with life's collection.

As for facing my many regrets, it proves facing the glass—
But not all mirrors can clearly cut clean through the past.
Truths are warped, wrapped for the present, for who peer—
Peering in, fragile as much, cracked, and smeared with fear.
We search within ourselves, as all seekers must willingly do,
Searching for a love clear as glass — one that is sharp, and true.
As peach blossoms fall, and small stones roll, know: that through
The times of picking yourself up, some dust gets stuck on you.

The world isn’t so clear, especially if man’s clarity is uninvolved;
Profiting from all our scars – given titles hanging over ourselves
So many times, that prophets need to remind us of who we are
Profits, or prophets, but it all depends on who’s worth you trust.

Tearing my skin,
questioning my worth, and letting all of the enemies seep in.
Fighting my thoughts, fighting my cause; so angry at the Lord,
and counting all of my flaws.

Trying to be myself,
but failing to really get enough in a day. Telling myself to pray,
but there’s a deep hate inside of my heart.
Wondering if it’s okay to play a role that’s not even my part.

Beneath all the writings I have,
a dollar a word; how much would I have earned? Are all these
struggles a part of the many things I deserve?
Itching at a nerve, doing the most work I perceive, but
the surrounding eyes don’t really believe.  (Believe in me)

In every shadow,
I’m an echo of those pains, thoughts of, “does the Lord really
save, or picks His children in Heaven’s book of few chosen names?
Soul selling, death bounding, riches of the worthless all going to Hell.
It’s the smell of earthy pleasures. If I wanted them all, what would
be it’s cost and measures?

Momma's boy, daddy’s disappointment,
all ships ahoy, attracting the attention of those now unemployed.
Let’s flip a coin, and bet your fortunes on two sides of luck. Don’t
start selling yourself short now, you’ll just be playing a constant
game of catch up.

Aren’t you fed up,
fully fooled by food for thoughts you’ll never use up? What the ****,
I was supposed to be a twenty one independent. But the dreams of
that child, I low-key ****** them up. (Excuse my French)

Apologies to my youth,
the self abuse, the tragic roots, and the youthful experiences
I never had a use. Don’t grow up too fast, because you’ll never
fit in life’s big *** shoes.

What’s the use?

Sinking into your shadow – a stranger in this place. As the ink
smudged upon your lips; leaves your voice spellbound, those words
caught in a storm within your throat. These torrent of emotions
surging in my heart, resembles rain drumming upon the pavement –
frigid as a stone adrift in the river's relentless current; it ****** my
skin like a thorn.  

Yet, the flicker of our love's promise remains, a distant glimmer,
a beacon in the vast expanse of night.

I would try to catch lightening in a jar;

For loved ones to call my bravery striking,
a mighty voice roaring like the falling thunder,
a cooling tongue of caring words drizzling,
and a passion strong as the hurricanes.

But a moment's wish only
comes once,
for lightening never strikes
the same
place twice.

But I still have my glass jar open.

My twilight dawns,
sparkling a piece in my eye. Could I see the very end
And O light of my eye, where has your lightness gone.

Could the very end be much closer as it seems,
Though it seems
a common denominator of all losses over wins
Though it seems
across the light bouncing up and down the bodies of rivers and streams,
Though it seems
like painted waters, and gleams.
Though it seems
to be found in the lightness of my dreams.

Now Dawn has risen upon that setting Sun
Time has left us all behind, but still isn't gone
singing words of encouragement but we ourselves shouldn't forget that song.

As Morning wakes
becoming a vessel for an empty space,
which I much prefer if I must confess.

Night has fallen upon,
robbing the light of day behind the sun
And I shun myself for often being found in the dark
But lightness only became as was when it went ahead of the dark.

Now my time is setting,
and at the end of it all what was my lesson.

Subtle comforts,
nonchalant cuddles under
the covers of your pretty eyes.

Undercover kisses, as like
every star coming out at night.

All soon to become a bright tomorrow;
oh my darling,- I want to show you off
to the entire world in such a glorious light.

The fall of beauty,— a rose buried beneath the
soil of time. A gazelle; prancing in tall grass,
Quickly noticed by attraction and hunt.

How fair does beauty stay in tune,
as like in a jungle...Time preys on you like the
hungry Lion.

I don't like it when you leave stains on my neck,
baby I'd have to confess to how much I really hate the mess.
So excuse me for not letting you get near my chest.

And baby I can't lie how good you look in my vest,
How you found a comfy spot on my bed, using it as your nest.
But the trial of my mind is how you've made yourself home, yet you came in here as just a guest.

You told me your name was Patience, but truly speaking it's not in your nature,
And you make me wish we never met sometimes. Could you not be a stranger.
For you look to me to be your savior,
but I can't answer that prayer.
You just happen to be the girl they call a slayer.
And why I let you stay is beyond me,
indeed you knew how to lie to my very heart, filling it's hopes with your fake glee.
I'd run away from you, but my emotions towards you I can't flee.

So I'll just watch from my bed while you put on your lipstick smile.
Watch you dress yourself in the mirror,
let my heart play out your hero.
And while I wait for you to come back, I'll remember your scent that's left on my pillow.

The ring on my finger may say we're ment to be,
But you don't let me be so free.
So I'd ask you the question, why did you even marry me.

Gas chambers,
Puffing on a breath of exhale.
Heavy lungs made of black acres.
Ashy gases surely want to do me the betrayal.

Pulling ******* a heavy gas,
High time smokers annoy me the most.
Puffing hard, pulling strong and then pass.

Burning a couple papers
Cigarette's ashy body holds no hope nor does me any favors.

Inhale a little more,
Lungs feel heavy, enough to carry the weight of the world.
A blanket of black smoke easily covers my deepest core.

Lit cigarette,
Smoke it well to fill these lungs with regret.

Except, I'm not the smoker in this story.
Heavy lungs of cigarette's air feels highly predatory.

Heavy lungs, Heavy lungs, it's a heavy heart.
Left myself from buying at the corner mart.
Just to walk out of the store to at least feel smart.

Hopeless romantic—I want to cry. Feelings pressed so deep, they die
quiet deaths between sighs. I don’t know what you see in this eye—a
dim-lit portrait, painted in the bruises of love dye. Questions coil
around my spine, but the heaviest one hisses: “Who the **** am
I?”

When we kiss, let’s make it sacrament—a whispered heresy, tongues
speaking in wet prophecy. But you don’t kneel for any father. You’ve
made altars from broken men with daddy-issue blueprints. And I—
just another one trying to fix what wasn’t mine to mend.

My fingertip—a brushstroke on your bitten lip, painting the hunger
before it slips. You wear love like fingerprints around your throat,
scarred tender from where I once held your breath like a prayer.

You're unsure of yourself, but I make you a shoreline—soft enough to
land on, wild enough to drown in. You become my bay, my mouth’s
favorite practice ground. My wreckage. My beach.

Each kiss tastes like searching for sin between your teeth—warm, wet
confessions we never speak. A shared gasp for air in the ache between
moans, as if pleasure could ease the pressure clawing beneath our
bones.

Would we love longer, or be like everyone else, hoping to just ****
better? Could your heart even measure what my hands now own?
Your body echoes beneath sweat-glazed skin, like a haunted song I
still hum. The feelings crawl, then collapse—pulling me under. Like
a dream that bites back. One that begs to be real. But this love has
only a few moments to taste that real.

Poems, sonnets, haikus, odes, songs, prose;
every one of them are trapped in a little black box—
a pen, the only key that unlocks my heart for everyone.

A box teeming with all my pains in it;
secrets or lies? There’s an eternity in that box- all my
verses are in it; some remain locked till the inevitable
death of another disregarded poet.

Oh, my little black box; filled with thoughts-
your love is less;- in an honest jest; laughing at most
of my secret ideas— ones far from their best, further less.
Writing something to forget as something less;
pieces I beget as children; I leave them so fatherless.

                                  Trapped in that little black box!

I've been living out of the ideas of the world as a homeless
man; and if I killed that person I loved the most,
I'd be killing myself,-

Still I don't live enough for myself, trying to impress
everyone else. All of the impressions of a people
pleaser, tattooed on my tongue, speaking sweetly about
others- to make them fill up on their highs.

Feel up on your heights, to rise up on your
pride in your mind. As life is nothing without outcomes,
that comes with the income; and none of us are born
without come, for the price of love to soon in come.

Still let's live as those who have a lot to live for.