If you looked into a human face, you would see them slowly dying.
Hair turning grey, wrinkles etching deeper.
The body's shell frailer day by day.
A bag of dead and dying cells.
A body doomed to die.
A meat bag held together by bones,
frail, brittle, breakable bones, bone china skeleton.
You would also see a human trying to defy death's clock.
Botox, facelift, eye tuck, tummy tuck, implants.
Makeup and perfume to mask the stench of death.
Shame.
Why fight the inevitable?
Dying to look young.

I don't seek your permission...
To write about the what, why and how.
It could be a haiku or come in the shape of a cow.

I don't need your approval...
When I don't sound the least bit poetic...
In my mismatched metaphors or ill-rhymed acrostic.

I'm not asking for your blessing...
When I pen down and put up what I think...
Be it in cloying cliches or in tear drenched ink.

I don't crave for your understanding...
When my 10 word poems weren't filtered through your poetic lens,
Or if my contributions in collaborations lack in sense.

I don't hope for your likes...
If my content does not tickle your fancy,
Or if my words just rubs you silly.

I mean no disrespect...
But don't be too quick to click on the 'comment' button.
Private messaging has been put there for a reason.

I don't mean to cramp your style...*
You're entitled to your own opinions of course...
But if you've got nothing good to say, please save it and shove it up yours.

It started with a glance.
An innocuous chanced glance.
Fate is a cruel mistress,
I was just the mistress.
I'm not proud of the fact.
I don't take pride in being your "bit on the side"
Part of me died when you told me you were married.
But, I couldn't stop being with you, that is,
until the glance.

Ever had the feeling that someone is watching you?
Well, I did, and I looked up.
There she was.
The wife.
I felt the colour drain from the room.
I wanted to run, but Karma had plans.
How alike we were, hair, build, our humour
the only difference were our eyes.
Mine, blue, hers brown.

That's how it happened.
A chance glance at a coffee shop.
We chatted, it would seem we both knew of each other.
I didn't know of the pregnancy.
You should have told me.
But then you knew I'd leave.
Mistress to a married man I can live with.
Mistress to a family man? No.
Even a mistress has some standards.

Over coffee and cake we conspired to rid ourselves of you.
The cake was the key.
And they do say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
Anti-freeze or Ethylene Glycol poisoning was chosen.
Embittering agent was nullified by the sweet frosting.
Our combined bitterness made fantastic cakes.
Acute kidney failure in 72 hrs, and, well you were told to stop drinking.
The only questions I really wanted to ask you were,
Do you remember who served you?

Were her eyes brown or blue.

Super moon, freshly minted gold coin
tossed high up, to what mortals blindly lose
their hearts to,wanting to hold on open palms,
each one claiming, pointing up "This beauty is all mine"

You are the one who plates silver to my sweet sins
when she and I,roll on the open balcony in a frenzy uncontained
til it's waves  lash higher and higher,spill out and get placid
for that time I forget the play of dark matter and other secrets
of cosmos, still to be brought to light, by billion droller projects.
Let hydrogen colliders work day and night on it,
it doesn't interest me at this time of full moon joy
let me wallow in your illusion for now, it's enchantment pure
to me a  lover, it speaks,words  more real,than the forces hidden.

Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
And against the morning's white
The shivering birds beneath the eaves
Have sheltered for the night,
We'll turn our faces southward, love,
Toward the summer isle
Where bamboos spire to shafted grove
And wide-mouthed orchids smile.

And we will seek the quiet hill
Where towers the cotton tree,
And leaps the laughing crystal rill,
And works the droning bee.
And we will build a cottage there
Beside an open glade,
With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,
And ferns that never fade.

There is a monster inside of me
and he doesnt want to eat
forces me to turn away every meal
want to throw up at every piece of food i see
He only feast on pain
from my freinds and enemies
Hes also hurting me
but I;m just a puppet for his insanity
theres a monster inside me
and he wont go away
whispers in my ears
tells me no  one wants to stay
tell me im worthless
fat,and ugly
so I wont eay until he thinks im skinny
there is a monster inside and hes always mad
makes me wanna scream
cutting portals in my skin
so he can get out of me
but he shys from daylight
stays with me
at least he will never leave
keeps me company
I have a monster inside of me
and i wont let him leave
we are freinds now
no matter how that seems
He doesnt care what people think
and niether do it
me and my monster
will be destroying things
for eternity

Breathless,
Wondrous,
My soul is gripped in awe.
She twists and writhes
Beneath the sheet,
And dreams a little more.
I'm sure she dreams of me, you see,
I feel my soul aflame.
When she sleeps
And sees me there,
She smiles and feels the same.

My spirit
Was consumed,
In death I found my bane;
Twisted deep,
And borne from sleep
My soul was lost in pain.
For in my sin, I died, you see,
While she did cast her spell.
My soul was
Tore asunder;
Cast feet first into hell.

Bound by
Chains of love,
Made from another's mold;
She speared
Me through the side,
And locked me in her fold.
The love she cast
She didn't know
Had caught my soul
In death.
But now I haunt her dreams
Life unending, without breath.

The most perfect form of silence
is the one where everyone is asleep
& the only noise is the faint train off in the distance
with the wind rushing back & forth
and the stars shining so bright you can almost hear them twinkle
and the soft sound of rustling sheets
and everything is peaceful
but maybe not so silent after all