Human directives, veracities unverified  
Bellies belching with anger, murderers
Udders dripping hate, foundling banters
Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate
Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink
Tear motions and debates of inequality

My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise
All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield
Emergency alarms sirens from 2003
The indefinite complications and hunger
A land of the displaced, starving nomads
Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts

Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious
A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws
Inhumane human interrogations persists
A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve
Force-feeding, torturous measures applied
All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed

A Rwanda slain in divide and rule
Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed
Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves
Machetes slashing necks and hands
A lust of power, a genocide slaughter
The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch

Autocratic regime boring divisions
Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust
The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles
Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill
Indifference pooled in pits and camps
The institutional social indoctrination

The honor and killing to expose shame
The violation and dishonor of moral fabric
For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values
Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit
Confessional secrets of only what lays within
A torment watching witnesses, all dangling

Marxists calls ships to stow ashore
Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit
Invalid contracts awaits signatures
The white immigrants to be enslaved
All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor
Wage packages taken to pay for freedom

Humans bought and sold to be owned
Slaves yorked and counted as assets
Bounded to serve plantations and homes
A human, non human, a chattel, a slave
A debt *******, offended and *****
Untamed and made to obey a master

A falling global strings unturned
Tunes strumming hate, war and pain
Human trafficking, violence, inequality
Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists
Commercialism, zero hour contracts
For if we have no rights, I have none
For if we have no peace I have none

Theres a lingering cloud when we conversate
An awkward vibe we never mention
Long gone are our banters and cute debates
Keeping feelings minimal, avoiding questions

The adorable messsages we used to send
Are they ever coming back or was that it?
Loving like we used to, is that real or just pretend
Keep my broken heart if we ever do split

You're slowly fading away from me
I don't even think you realise
All i can do is let you be
And let me deal with all the cries.

Perhaps it was the distance
Or maybe it was just the time
All of this gives me grievance
I just want you to remain mine.

Govan bar banter:

Awa' with ye fankle eejits
that blether to naw whit they dinnae naw
crabbit, drookit
moanin, drouthy
yer Havers-yins!
each unto their ane
an' aye bin.

Tell markers scoured
an' crowned with glee
"alas nae blessing naw
bolt of wisdom
will er'e to
strike thee -
tis poor soil
an' loads o toil
an' broken backs"
Ach awa with ye!

Fir me the skies
an' tracks o wilds
an' winds that curl yer lugs
Hielan mountains glory
summers toty story
an' bonny lassies dancing -
a gallus stoater!
that’s fir me.

Party racket
in Da’s laden jaiket
jangle change
fir a dram
an' enough tae get the Clockwork Orange hame -
times hae changed a wee bit no?

Seldom ventured
tis seldom gained
an' aw the while
the wee bairns wail
Still, life is yin
what yin makes of that
which drives the world
that breaks yer back

Remember love!
ma banters free to give
an' thats all the mare important when
it costs so much tae live.

Lazy lines never writes
she's afraid because of what she might.
Can't seem to find her way
so she's taking a                                                break
from searching.
She sways
in and out of feelings,                                                
from the middle        
she can see the edge                                       break
but doesn't lose her place.
He wanted to hold her
as she rambled away,
kiss her cheek in the moonlight
and play her music by day.

Walk barefoot on blacktops,
backward steps, tripped in flip flops.
He's the scar on her knee, the crackle pop in her spine.
She thought to make him                                                  baked
goods:
precious berries too sweet for wine.

She feels destruction in creation
so her thoughts become less productive
and finds resonance in mistakes.
Words like hot wind
and she's depressing.
Ignoring advice from others,
*******.
Break
                  break                                          
                                      break
she needs it
break
     break
break
she bears it

cheek bruised
from loves subtle encounters,
hands shaking from
works formal banters,
today's not what she expected it'd be:
something sweet in the stomach.
A smooth something to bring out the best,
bitter rest in her breast,
she wants to get a better look.

Blue floor, blue chair
flowered curtains and
a view of fields
beyond the window.

Bed, unmade.
What history does
that hold, I wonder?
Radio plays, chatter, soft footsteps.

The Big Man arrives.
Kind, gentle, dark eyes.
Soft voice, good hands.
Pulls no punches.

This is what will happen.
He says, do I understand?
The words, of course I do.
The impact? Let's see.

The gas man arrives.
Banters jovially.
Nice of him to try but
I'm beyond all that.

He knows how to put us out
but his experience
of the experience?
Minimal. I asked.

Always throws them, that.
When you ask them if
they know what it is like.
So easy to be glib without pain.

This risk and that.
Do you understand,
they ask once again.
Sign here. "Good luck."

Never had a surgeon
Say, "good luck" before.
Sun's gone in,
It's raining now.

When you were single, you suddenly decided to join us.
Spent most of your days hanging out with us.
Made yourself a part of the group, which we all welcomed.
Treated you like a sibling almost, banters and jokes abound.

Months passed by and we saw you with your partner.
When you told us you found your special someone, we couldn't be happier.
We should have known though,
Your spending time with us was through.

When was the last time you joined our gatherings?
When was the last time you talked to us about anything?

Now that you are no longer single again,
We seem to be of no use to you.
Now that our friendship has reached a strain,
We seem to be dead to you.

Some friend you are.

There is such a lack,
an incredible lack
of words to describe
how you make me feel

There is not a word for

shared annoyance
of errors,
rules of the English language.
reading a sentence that makes little sense
to confirm someone doesn’t know how to grammar

staying up ’til 3, 4, 5
to discuss simplicities and complexities,
they felt like the most important things.
Sleep is not an important thing.

joy of seeing you with a smile
rushed banters
sarcasm, conditions, laughter, and silly faces.
Silent promise to see you later

inability to walk and tell you something
at the same time.
Here is my brain, make of it what you will.
Thank you for trusting me with yours.

spaces between sleep
and getting up for the day.
Time, (what is time?)
holding, tickling, touching, skin

pretending to leave,
only to crawl back in
to your embrace, warm,
watching you rest.

your hands
that I can’t not touch.
Not because you need it,
but I do.  I hope that’s okay.  

hugs I don’t want to end,
silent or not. Close,
being next to you is the safest,
most comfortable, peaceful place to be

spontaneity and uncertainty
kiss you good-bye?
or just wink, either is fine
it’s not complacent

I don’t have to write
because I can say the words to you.
I have the words
to be a person,
with you

If you find words for all these,
I don’t I want them
I’d rather have to fully describe them and,
even then,
it would not be enough
to define the noticings and pieces
I like about you

She looks in the mirror and sees her reflection
She turns to her friend and gossips for attention
She banters and cantors negativity
But her words are a poisonous activity

The Sun shines as she walks on her way
Beauty is everywhere but her vision is gray
The past is a weight that she cannot drop
Pulling her down relentlessly, it just won't stop

It's time to leave her baggage behind
A new destination awaits in due time
All she needs is peace of mind
And better days will soon be prime

A busy, coffee-smelling Sunday morning
With noisy banters while cooking and dining
Natural gatherings with our parents
A time to fix the little cracks and bents

But alas, my father is under the soil
While mother uses her time to toil
And I am left in my own devices
Do try to imagine how everyday is

And oh, please try to remember albeit
I am not a sad child at all, at least not yet
For I always reason, not in deceit,
That my family isn't broken, just incomplete

the beep sounds from distant slowly fades inside my head
the box quivering with agitation gives more sound of beeps
something i never felt before hits me hard, inane race stirs up
I-
stand back, not knowing when the senses left and came back

Thrills - run wild over ups and downs of not so lovely brains
the beeps buzz around like the never end ceasing sound of 'OM'
something I never desired for me, mockingly banters around
I-
stand back, not wanting to feel the same air again and the heat

What new it possibly could fill me with when everything around is ragged and rusted;
When there is no paint to color them and there is no scrubs to clean.

What can I possibly speak on my behalf, there is nothing more I have left for explanation. Like some dementia, I circle around my own periphery to find out what could I have left behind and end up questioning all the things which were there with tags of well-accepted meanings. The meanings now slowly rises up like smokes from the chimney of the distant brick factory. It suffocates me already! yet the distance so far and it will never reach me. And I pick out my pen and start giving every subjects and objects disposed in me with the marks of asterisk. Now then, I go for the corner which I can't find anywhere because I am already floating in the space of nowhere land like a nowhere man. Just plain agitating suffocation is the feel you get in nowhere land. Blood ***** up all my stored energy to rush and cover a distance of less than one hand from heart to my brain. It fountains out through my eyes. But no reds!!! Just blue!



Let me  clear some space from the middle of everything and give a big asterisk with a big question mark '?' on its side.

The last (for today) beep sound bring me back to my senses. The message from the other corner of telecom network doesn't seem to make everything alright but I seem to collect my own image on this world.

"Maaf garnu hola tapai le samparka garnubhayeko number uthena"

I hurl my bag and zip my jacket.

Take me where you want to, take me where now I need to
Take me home or let me crawl;or just let me kiss the ground
Enough is never enough. More is less than more. take me out if you can
I-
stand back, moving just means passing out and coming back .

Let me pass or take me through. Its a cold new year day, isn't it?

Well, HAPPY New year!

There was a time
when those calls
were bothersome;
a time, when those talks
into the night
were like a disturbance.

Albeit, those times
were the best.
Filled with banters,
squibbles, and laughters.
Those times were the sweetest
of the times we spent.

But now, everything is all quiet,
like a still night
without the sound of crickets.
And now, I can't help but pine
for those times,
as I keep mulling in my head,
"I crave that disturbance".

I am lost in humanity’s sea, that great wind swept expanse of self indulgence and heartbreaking reality.

I seek the emotions of peace where no such emotion exists, only that of the state of peace, the situation of peace;

negotiated by power ****** and money makers. The heart and soul have nothing to do with it instead; it is a chip to be thrown upon the worlds table, a tool to justify misguided means.

The elements of true peace are far flung and their intent, jaded in envious green shades of self servency.

I scream into a canyon of wonder, and singular echoes return and return.

My voice; the only answer to my only question. I ask the winds of this willowa to cease and calm their tirades.

Instead, the request falls upon emaciated ears and hardened hearts.

A world exists in this expanse where my unheard calls ring. The din of self absorption outplays my simple plea.

Instead the flags of bias, the banners of silent hypocrisy, flap in winds of fouling air
Upon a society that has no care for the simple emotions, those of peace.

The hard, cold reality that I am forced to realize.

The banters of the ignorant that brings tears to my eyes.

Some may call my wondering that of the mere naïve.

Then I am that in these terms.

For my wish is to see all

At peace.

Coriander sprinklings and subtle tastes
as we lean together and giggle as children
exchanging nibbles and pecks of love
at the gentle lullings of our sleeping boats

And the sun would shine on our dark heads
burning our hairs and lighting the fires
echoing our laughter while we filled the earth
with eternal love that would span the sky

And all the distances would pull us apart
taking our lives this way and that
winding through the darkest routes
enshrining our happiness to the past

But we would - as always - remember well
clinging to the smells of the world
keeping our hearts closed to disruptions
but letting our confidence sway––––

And yet the world would bring us back
to hear our giggles and childish banters
taking delight at the slightest triggers
and painting lives in watercolour

So moments pass and times repeat
clear in the eye of our observers

But crimson shades and all spring scents
watch our bonded rains and shines

And for every moment I reflect
you shine brighter than luminance.

Dinners under the chandelier
Meaningless chatter and happy laughter
The delicious smell of quesadilla
Drifting through the air from the counter

Grandma rocking in a corner
Little ones sparked before her
Marveling at her skill with the needle
Entranced by the music from Grandpa's fiddle

Stories by the moonlight
Folktales by the fireplace
Connecting dots with the starlight
Losing track of time in space

She never knew the word 'pain'
Then she felt the pain of death
Till the betrayal of Cain
Till she craved the high of ****

Now pain is all she knows
Pain in all forms and doses
Be it through bullets and blows
Or even the thorns of roses

She's grown so used to it
It's started to feel normal
She's grown so accustomed
Without it she's incomplete

As she sits near the cliff's edge
She dares to think of happier times
As she uses her foot as a wedge
She remembers the oven clock's chimes

She remembers mama's cookies
Her favourite was chocolate
She remembers papa's banters
And Nana's beliefs in fate

She recounts Grandpa's pipe
His delicious mixed smells of tobacco and old person
That must be where the crave started
Her crave for the high of forgetting

As the nostalgia washes over her
She dares herself to cry
She removes her footed wedge
And begins to fly

As she flies she feels nothing
Only an empty fortress
A fortress filled with echoes
Echoes of happiness

That year
we met
watching you smile
from afar
i dared not look back
that month
we started getting used to texting
on a daily basis
exchanging stories and banters
encouraging each other to go through
things we had to go through
that day
you said out of the blue
you decided to stop talking to me
cold turkey
i could not
that night
i saw some of ourselves
in some Makoto Shinkai movies
you and i
we could not go back it seemed
that moment
i let it happen
you and i became sudden
strangers.

The queen of the coffee house
Sips away at her hot drink,
Looking quite royal as she banters
With her equally regal girlfriend.
She sports a Greek goddess armband
And the dress of a Spanish gypsy.

The queen of the coffee house
Wears a pendant of gold
Which rests halfway between
Her belly button and her chin,
Nestled neatly among
Curly locks of sunshine.

The queen of the coffee house
Reclines on hillsides at sunset,
Stretched across Persian linens,
Eating pomegranates and vines of grapes,
Whispering sonnets into the wind,
And strumming French folk tunes on an antique ukulele.

Actually, the queen of the coffee house
Appears to be a business major,
With such words as “stock” and “invest”
And “income” and “finance”
Bleeding across the room from her table.
So much for the whole gypsy thing.

Bring the angels and shine
Bleach the smile and shimmer
I rushed in the isles of the world
I rested halfway through the island
The tiredness of the unforgiving pain
The strain of trying to explain myself
They saw my social awkwardness
They peeped as I hid by a corner
Seldom backwardness is my nature
So so in a world where introversion is a sin

I have never been a fool, just turned down
I have never been unconfident, just confined
I have never been sociable, just a lone wolf
I have never been lonely, just absently present
I have never been old, just youthful at heart

Bring those songs you chatter, take my hand
Banters of a hunter hunt as I revolve cyclically
I pass the ball in this deserted court in a park
I park my back on the decayed timber as I wait
The sire of the ailing livelihood we call life
The site where we watch as the sun illuminate
I saw your sincerity and cocooned you in me
I spoke your language as you pushed me in an abyss
Seldom backwardness is my nature
So so in a world where introversion is a sin

When the pain becomes unbearable I take my headphones and cover my ears
I turn the volume up to block out their banters

Eric Himan Fill my soul with words that make me feel okay
let your Folk calm the angry waters in my soul

Mother Monster let me know that I am safe
and I should never give up

Adele teach me of love lost
Ke$ha let me party till I feel my body go numb


All of you!

Sing! Sing and be my shield!

You imagine yourself to be the thickest tree
Streaming flourishly with bright green feathers
Down your arms into your wonderous oak, so free
Is where you imagine your polished banters

Dreams like fantasies, dancing in the wind
Swaying to a rhythmic, yet succulent beat
We all fall victim to its lure, in our mind
That which we follow appears only in the heat

We imagine ourselves like we're singular, alone
The voices around are calling, yelling for our release
In a melodic manner, the most beautiful tone
We can't break from our cells, but we can keep the peace

Our knowledge may seem futile, like a useless tool
That won't take us any closer to our freedom
But we will rise up, our hope is no fool
That which we know, will only increase our wisdom

Others believe in the purity of our hallowed earth
The secrets of our hidden pleasures
From the beginning, its noble birth
We've been greedily hoarding the treasures

From the reserviors of our fate, have we foretold
We are responsible, and follow our liabilities
Knowing nothing by the time we grow old
That which is young has endless possibilities

A hundred dances at midnight
A million meaningless fights
A thousand misunderstandings
Only I on the moon landing
A couple chance encounters
A million clever banters
A googleplex of jokes
A couple shared cokes
With love and happiness too
Im so happy I have you.

I collect these words in my pocket;
Papers folded neatly and shoved deep inside with the rest of my stash.

Thoughts that run so freely;
With minds awoken these words come spoken as I grip my pencil and write so fast.

"Catch me if you can," the muse sarcastically banters in my head;
"Don't leave these stories unattended for if you do, they will surely feel dead."

I collect these words in my pocket
And transfer them onto this screen;
So I may have some peace of mind and alas my laundry will come out clean.