All of you below
Are little tiny ant-people
Bumbling through these funny streets
Hidden beneath my shadow.

With their cut cuticles of hair
And those knotted clumps of muscle
Around the pebble streets they roam
To destinations unknown

All around are towers of steel
All air conditioned and ventricled
Made of stone and office drone
They are the buzzing hives of employables

On the street the blood cells meet
On embolic artery of Battery
On varicose Vein of Sansome
The exoskeleton of this city
Curbed with Grey
and auburn streaks

Far away
Beyond the bay
In the neck of a wood's decay
The tiny ants feast on bark
As cars fly past on an interstate.

If you ask me, he lit the match that set the Moon on fire
It’s not a myth; I was there, when I had no home
And I walked in Saturn’s ring rain for so long it sloughed off my skin
I marched, trying to flatten the crater I’d made
Because I was ashamed of it
I was the last meteor to hit his heart; the loudest
But that was so long ago
The quietest revolutions are usually the most violent
If you ask him, I smelled like Genesis and Revelation from the inside
******* insatiable
I slathered honey on my cheeks and boiled my blood
so hot until my arteries turned charred black
I licked my wounds from the impact and discovered just what the hell was poisoning me

If you ask me, I didn’t know him last night and I won’t know him on the last night
But my God, he inspires me

A book was given,
but the man cannot read.
Another can read,
but cannot understand.
A book of secrets,
in a plain tongue.
A strange tongue given,
secrets revealed.

Death,
if seen,
then,
now burns alive within.

Unapproachable,
then,
now leads,
by hand.

Mysterious,
yet,
to those whom it was given,
now revealed,
to the ignorant, who never desired it.

That which baptised the Earth,
then,
now,
a spring that waters Jerusalem.

trying
to be strong,
no matter
what is wrong,
keeping
myself together,
being
denied forever.

In times of brokenness
You gave me the light,
The hope to walk in
You gave me the road,
Now I'm believing

Now you revealed unto me
The truth to which you love me
And I just want to say
Oh how I long

I long to be with thee

6am
an exquisite time for a funeral
loud tolls of the sun
fresh morning breeze
here to dry moist faces

6:01am
a great time to realize
you are a part of the scene
standing on the sloppy green
looking around all bewildering

6:02am
the time 2 min after seven, you get it
it’s you - the one to bear the sorrows
to mourn for the loss
to carry the weight in guts

6 something
now the time does not matter
it’s you - burying your friend
the misbehaving devils angel
since ever a part of your hell

6 sins
only he could play all in one shot
magic up 6 deadly joys
the sinner and saviour
your very rare self

6 days
or even less
you contemplated and found
you shared the wisdom writing
on matters of truth and true love

6 guys
of yours in the meanwhile,
bricking him up, behind the scene
shutting the shy but calling friend out
lying you’d better live without

and now

Your guys were actually You
the blind and dead stupid You
who murdered your buddy in his best age
and 6, .... now makes no sense

All you could do is
speak to the mirror
asking for nothing
or everything

Hoping to reflect back maybe
it was just a call of mercy,
unordinary protection drill
that no one’s dead, not yet

Please please, but maybe...
you just missed the moment
to lay humbly the bouquet down
to say to rest in peace

You know why time flies?
Because it never slows to stop.
When time hits you, it does so with a crash.
It hurtles into you with violent awareness.

Time doesn’t crawl.
It doesn’t walk. Or even run.
Time doesn’t unfold methodically, or slowly.
Time is an event. And another.

The arrow of time is a broken spear.
It’s not straight and not constant.
The present announces itself, out of nowhere.
Time is a measure of suddenness.

Time is revelation.
It is darkness speckled with epiphany.  
Time passes only when change happens.
There are no small changes in life.