of storms and skysee my hair dance wild as wind-strings jerk it about//hear the ocean-wind heave itself against us all- crashing into our eyes and mouth//feel the winter-wind brush our skins in summer//then inhale the heaviness of air and sink through the dirt- because darling, you dont deserve gods beautiful violence.of storms and sky in Other More Like This
(it drags the tree by its leaves saying kiss your trunk, kiss it and it does; releasing with a snap. the other trees flitter-flutter violently, crying within the cacophony of rain on concrete. white stars fall where light exists, and only sound where it disappears. the sky -the colour of sunburnt skin- watches it all with hunger. and then a moment we are swallowed. gumtrees, rain, earth; we are all night sky now. but our eyes open and the rain is no more, dew on grass. and the wind is no more, only breath.)
leavemedon'tleaveme.you make me sick. you make my stomach fold in on itself and press out against the lining of my flesh. you put lumps in my throat and you tie strings to my tear glands and tug until the world is just a panoply of blurred lines, hazy colour and bokeh.leavemedon'tleaveme. in Biography & Memoir More Like This
you made me do this. you put the knife in my fingers and you told me to tear, you said you would care if i hurt myself like this. you said youd care if i opened my flesh up for you like a gift of blood and flesh and tissue. but you never really did.
i like being small, i like being the blue eyed girl sitting amidst background noise, rubber band arms holding the necks of her legs together. i like being the blue eyed girl with hands holding her from spilling in a mess at everyones toes. i like it when theyre your hands.
i try to define you with mental disorders. i say you have schizophrenia and pretend its a valid excuse. im in love with one of your personalities, but the other doesnt even notice
colour blind.She saw him at the park once. He was the colour of dirt; with bird eyes and white, mapped palms. Her little forehead lined as she felt the bile force its way up until her saliva was acid. She counted her toes and bit the inside of her cheek, should she run? Are they fast runners? She figured this one must be if he kept himself out of jail. The dark man flashed a mouthful of pebbles and held out his hand- which would have swallowed hers.colour blind. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
'Don't touch me.'
Her hands were all knuckles and her baby eyes tore into his. He faltered and stepped away, a half mouthed sorry. He looked upset, a grin spread like fire between her dimples.
Suddenly she imagined force-feeding him barbed wire and then tearing it back out- the way a clown pulls coloured cloth from his sleeve. She imagined tying the left of his limbs to a heavy tree trunk and the right to a truck. Dragging and pulling until his joints sang high with dislocation and his arms snapped like twigs. The way she likes the crackle of dea
asthmashe smokes marlboro cigarettes with the bedroom door locked. i taste it on her breath, lips and skin everyday after school. her bed is a mattress on the floor. sometimes we make love on it and i wonder if she'd rather have her mouth around a cigarette than me right then. she has asthma too.asthma in Short Stories More Like This
she is my second cousin. i didn't know this until two years after we began fucking and three years after i fell for her. i don't think it really matters. emily says if i ever made her pregnant she'd make me punch her in the stomach, heavy and hard. but i never would you know, i love her.
the smoking is killing her. i hid the cigarettes beneath the sink, but she just bought new ones and hid them better. she had her head down in the pillow, coughing, coughing until she coughed up sticky blood. i cried for her and she told me to stop being such a pussy. i told her i loved her and she drew another cigarette. kissing it ways she'd never kiss me.
some nights i sleep over hers. her father doesn't mind, he
my mouth is filling with sandmy brother used to tell me to hold my breath until i could hear the ocean in my head. and i did, it was a soft roar of sky fighting sea. eventually when my eyes rolled back like waves, he would make me breathe so i didn't drown.my mouth is filling with sand in Short Stories More Like This
he was always there to tell me to breathe out but now he is gone and i am forgetting how to.
we were very young when our father died (fell from a cliff photographing the moon) and our mother started dating the milkman. he was gangly man with white hair but otherwise very handsome. we didn't mind him at all. he made our mother smile and brought warm milk every night. but we missed our father and his stories about stars and planets.
one night we tried in vain to bring our father back to life in this man, he lay on our bed and we begged a story. but rather than talk about the grandeur of the milkyway he told us the percentages (down to 7 figures) of the essential vitamins in milk. we yawned and slept as he watched on proudly, thinking he had inspired delighting dr
pretty boys break hearts.sometimes I think Im just a mess of badly drawn lines. Im just scrawled veins beneath paper rough skin, I wear poorly sketched scars on my thighs [skin deep red pen lines] and even my smile is lop-sided- but he never seemed to notice.pretty boys break hearts. in Teen More Like This
my skin [spread like thick icing over my skeleton] is a monotonous pattern of pores, a stretch of the world the sun never kissed. I cant see the beauty in multitudes of freckles and chipped fingernails- but he does.
why do you love me?
you make me happy.
I never could figure out just how. was it my illegible love notes, or the tiny hearts I drew into his bare back with my fingertips? was it the filth on my knees or the way I named every bowing flower in my garden? maybe it was the way I sewed the stars to the navy sky and told him in a little, little voice-that I loved him.
either way he made my heart skip beats and bumps and bangs and he made me feel beautiful, a little
you can't feel through fabrictonight the rain becomes the earthyou can't feel through fabric in Other More Like This
falling from hidden spaces in the sky and swollen clouds
i hear it make mud of dirt, and lovers of friends
and ask, quiet, where are you going but down?
im not all there in the head
youre not all there in the head, my mother says
im not all there in the head i repeat
sometimes im there in my toes and fingers and heart as well
and now - in this downpour moment- i lie on the street
so warm that i think well thats where loves gotten to
but where is your shirt n? oh someplace else
and is that a light flickering in the house across the road? hide!
i rush in soaken with rain i watched fall (like stars)
am i poetic enough yet, yet?
leaving rain-prints on the carpet but mother wont mind
mind you she never minds anything if its mine
but then it stops a quick shut-eye stop
(i wonder) is it dew now that it sits like jewels upon the grass?
the wind is lovely in my ear, voice like rushing water
DownfallDownfall in Free Verse More Like This
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
d.i.di.d.i.d in Free Verse More Like This
the first time i saw her
alone in the cafeteria
scrap of cling film
wrapped tightly around her finger
i had a friend
but she died
and now i am not the same
she is the one i love
touching the edges
of a kitten sticker
on her french notes like it was her dead
grandmother in an open casket
blanched white fingertips
no i am not the same
she hurts the world and
rapes the earth and
the rabbits scream and
the trees scream and
the air screams and
she sits at the hearth with fur in her hands
i go into work with bruises on my breasts
we do not kiss
or make love
because it makes her cry
but she loves me best when we are
and she is mine
my little golden idol
little sleeping one
she says why did you give him a rabbit?
why are you taking him away from me?
i cannot see what she has written
she says there is a baby now
it hasn't a name and it never cries
and no one ever holds it
it grows and spreads like a weed
You Poor ThingI am sorry for your skeleton,You Poor Thing in Free Verse More Like This
the way you carry yourself when you walk into a room
like your arms are tied and your mouth is empty and you've been
kept prisoner for a year, waiting for a bird to arrive
at your window. Your eyes are full and I spread my hands and say this;
sorry, like a man abandoning his lover in a cloud of dust. I am sorry for
your eyes, resentful like a North American river.
Sorry, for everything, for your breasts and womanhood.
You are standing on the edge of eighteen
relunctant and awkward; you do not want
to spread your legs wide and let the world drop its' pants
to fuck you. You are standing on the edge of something
looking afraid and saying no,
I don't want any spaghetti. I'm not hungry.
I'm hurting and horrible the way that a person feels
when they shatter the shell of a snail by
accident. I cannot say sorry
enough for your hands, scrabbling at the surface
of a wooden panel unheard, clawing at one another
like you're putting a deer in the headlights
From Whence She CameBack down to the sea-floor she goesFrom Whence She Came in Free Verse More Like This
back to the coracle-clusters and starfish that
clamour, cling to her heart too tight,
walking barefoot towards where she
came from. It is too hard walking on
earth, the way she wears pain like a wedding ring
Back down, down, crawling on her belly
on the forest-floor, alive with the buzz and crawl
of worms and bird-prey. Back where she belongs with her
crazy palpitating wolf-heart, her bloody
deer-throat leaking in the snow, her yellow
eyes in the dark.
Back down, beyond subway trains, piano lessons,
falling rain, from whence she came, to the snow-covered womb
where she first gulped air.
Back down to a place before wildflowers,
fish on land, back to a locked box
full of old souls, from whence
My Heart Always Returns To MeMy sagging heart alwaysMy Heart Always Returns To Me in Free Verse More Like This
Returns to me; cringing
Like a wounded animal,
Tail between its legs, an
India-ink river of blood
Mapped across the kitchen floor.
I blindly follow these maps
Back to myself.
Like a wounded animal it lies
Whimpering and grotesque
On the tiles, flayed and shaking,
Reeking of iron and fur.
In my arms, my little animal
Slackens, shudders, is still for a while.
In it I can bury my breath, my face
As I wait for it to howl.
the lonely planet's guideIt was three AMthe lonely planet's guide in Free Verse More Like This
It was three AM
we were talking about
and I was too ashamed
to admit that I couldn't
remember how that felt,
staring stupidly at the
piss-stained bed and then
at the ceiling. There was a moth
the size of my heart and coloured
in like autumn and pain. That's me,
and then threw my shoes at it.
The next day on the metro
somebody had scratched C'EST
A CHIER onto the window
and it was only then that
I felt the papery beating of
winged grief in my
You might think that it's
pretentious to write about
Paris, but that's where I was.
nique ta mère.
it is not enoughit is not enough just toit is not enough in Free Verse More Like This
miss you. i have to learn
how to walk again; how to
live without meat and
kissing, how to sleep
shaped like a balled up
fist. it is not enough
just to miss you. i have
to adopt twins in
Africa, name them Lost
and Weird, forget to
feed them. i have to
go to every pet store
in America and rescue
all the seahorses. i have
to tattoo D A R K B I R D
inside my lip and stand
in children's playgrounds
like a broken arm, creaking. it
is not enough just to miss
you. it has to hurt. i
have to write poems
that last forever, interpret
dreams about buildings
burning down, flies who
leave their partners for
sad New York waitresses. i
have to work on my
posture. shave my head, wear
white dresses. i have to
be a chaffinch when i curse
into my fingers. it is not
enough to just miss you. i
have to be a crazy
crocus-woman; my lovely
hand curled close around
your heart, a bud sealed
tightly, tightly, tightly...
That MomentI wasn't looking for troubleThat Moment in Free Verse More Like This
But I found you anyway
A glittering gem in this dark city
Nothing but a chance meeting
And still you caught my eye
And from that moment, we were friends
Through drama and laughter
The tears and the fights
Dancing without a care
As we shared our stories
Over bad cooking and movies
Not the best date but we survived
And at that moment, something replaced just friends
And even if I wander off
Into that place that tempts those
Of lonely heart and weary mind
I have but to see your eyes
And find my north
And gain back my center
Althought you have become the compass
Of someone else
And as that moment passed, I knew we'd stay friends
Special ThingsSpecial Things in Free Verse More Like This
It was all so beautiful-
The rose, the wine,
The dancing in the living room
To our favorite song.
You say to give you a moment
While you get something special
From the car,
And I go to the closet
To get something special for you-
But what I find in the drawer
And now I have to wonder
Who else youre doing
Such special things for.
Coulda Been A GunslingerThe wind sweeps aside the dark curtainsCoulda Been A Gunslinger in Free Verse More Like This
And they frame the sight of you
Standing alone on the balcony
A silhouette against the black city
You face is turned toward the night
Giving me the chance to study
To watch in silence as you sigh
A piece of silver glitters
Smooth pistol pressed against the cloth
And you glance down with a frown
But I have no fear of your death tonight
Knowing what keeps this restless soul
Alone, observing the streets below
Looking so sad upon the people
Who don't know they are watched over
Not a word sullies the still air
But it's painfully clear the thoughts
That flitter and dance through your mind
Which make tears flood those bright eyes
And cause those teeth to bite pale lips
For someone who loves the world so
You have never learned, have you?
What you would give to save mankind
That silver pistol ablaze
Raining justice down on these bloody streets
In the ways of old
Ah, you could have been a gunslinger my love
But no one wants a savior anymore
For YouThe words on the mirrorFor You in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Are the same shade of red
That she wore the night
You told her you loved her
And the song on the radio
Is the same shitty tune
That filled the car when you
Confessed that you need her
The perfume that lingers
In your busy room
Is the one that you bought
For her last October
And the pictures missing
From your plaster halls
Were taken in places
You'll never get over
Now you stand at the door
Your head bowed in shame
And I keep forgetting
I'm not to blame
And as I hand you the envelope
I can't meet your eyes
The sorrow, the pain,
The passion, the lies
You can't live without her
We've all seen the truth
I know what you want
But I-I can't say goodbye
I found your wallet
On the front lawn
The photos are gone
But she left you your money
The cars are still here
So I'm guessing she walked
She's not one for outdoors
But I can see her running
You must know by now
That it was my door she knocked on
Her voice has escaped her
So I couldn't tell what was going on
For Just A Second...I'm 16 for just this secondFor Just A Second... in Free Verse More Like This
And laying under the moonlit sky
I can only see us now as we are
The scratchy blanket beneath my back
With your light dozing against my chest
The ring on my finger looks like the stars
And the words "we need to talk"
Only make you laugh and make me smile
I'm 22 for just this second
And you're so scared to meet my eyes
Sitting together on the floor
You stare at your hands and I into space
My voice is cruel because it has to be
And the words "we need to talk"
Sound so ominous that I can't breathe
I'm 34 for just this second
Returning your smile as you step across the field
The laughter of the children echoes in our ears
As you sit down and I try not to draw your attention
To my uncomfortable shifting
And the words "we need to talk"
Mean visitation rights as we watch our daughter swing
I'm 53 for just this second
And our shared glance contains volumes
As our baby walks down the aisle
Your eyes glitter a little and I start to think
That it would be ok for once t
NextSend us a postcard from where you are livingNext in Free Verse More Like This
Because we cant hear your preaching down here
On the first inked lines of a new horizon
A mixed mess of bad attitudes and new morals
We are the future even if you dont like it
So tired of those words- back in the day
Ive heard about your time
In my history books, and at the knees
Of old men who can weave a tale Ill actually hear
Instead of shoving their beliefs down my throat
And who will listen to what I have to say
Because you wont listen
You dont understand, even though
You were once like us
With the same feelings and thoughts
That crowded your mind and threatened to overflow
With every personal battle or public riot
That gripped the globe and shook it
For all it was worth
You take the world, and suck it dry
Taking everything and leaving nothing
Before you give it to us
And tell us to do the same
And then hate us because we will
Aftermathmy hair smells of stale cigarettes andAftermath in Free Verse More Like This
accumulated interjections as i think of you now.im pulling
out 'horrors', i want to discard 'quits'. i want to pick out 'CHECKMATE',
and fix it on your existence with large amounts of duct tape and cheese.it should be
in red, it should be in caps,it should yell out how i conquered you, noticing
the way your insides stick out a little from the neck of your shirt, mostly towards the
left.you were a triumph puff after light years without the right kind of breeze.
my feet are cleaner but dry, and i miss having them high up in the air.tomorrow's music is
getting lost in this frenzy. it has found the emergency exit, there is an updraft and
no parachutes.i pick out 'zounds', the notes spill forming a makeshift snowfall and
now its hard to make way to the warehouse, the clocks waiting to be discovered.
where are the corns that i'd tossed at the beggars as if it were a sacred
ritual?the wine is missing,the sunset is brown- settling on our skins like the fa
untitleddsgfjindoors,i'm paling bonfires and verbing the nouns anduntitleddsgfj in Free Verse More Like This
death is a metaphor.the room sighs with the afternoon
grief,the morning grief, the early summer grief saddling
nightfall. the grains in your coffeejar are a thousand
condensed nightmares imitating mine.the room sighs as
love is just a metaphor. in photographs,the eyes grow closer ,
but lighter with the loss of regard. your hands probing through
my ribs find filthy similes eating at a faint throb.the throb,
the paling bonfire, the room with no doormats, no sky,
just blood and disease- affect lunging into attempts to
hide.inside,warming up for spite, expecting
crisis in the hub,i lay out trump defenses- failing, failing,
these things happenim peeling the soles off my feet butthese things happen in Free Verse More Like This
everything is still strange and absent and
imaginary when im walking all over it. these
things happen.my fingers are all blood and
loose cuticles.im telling you, these things
happen and they're are always watching you through
a peephole with the kind of eyeballs that
turn into a doorknob and lock you in before
you know it.this is irrelevant and it
makes me poetic.
this morning i was in the
toilet, singing and imagining that im
at a party with all your friends watching me.
none of them was taking pictures of me. no one
told me i remind them of someone famous.i was ugly
with tufts of hair missing and no one was getting me a
drink and they were staring as though im a tortured
polar bear and they're copious amounts
of greenhouse gases. these things happen and
they make me a little crazy, a little edgy and suicidal but
all of it it also makes me majorly poetic.like i start seeing
stars all over my body and the walls and the bedsheet and i
Talk about..this is being written as i consider suicide.Talk about.. in Free Verse More Like This
the sleeping pills know the way to the garage and might
show me out before i begin to protest.
Letter to myself, from a week ago:
before ever attempting suicide:
read poetry or newspapers in the hope
that either will
change your life.try dancing again and fracture a toe/
sprain a ligament/bump into someone to
remind yourself of how it once changed your life.
cry over it,
get over it.be a black bird without mercy,
join a conspiracy,kill a
bitch and say im jealous of you.stop believing in
karma, put it in a tarot card and motion blur
the shit.give up trying to belong to
borrowed walls, know no safer
roofs than accumulated dreams.consider this: every
line drawing grows into a Venn diagram if not
left alone.give yourself 90 minutes in hell for a little
longer than this, and at a stretch.look at the
mirror, say FUCK i have nothing to do with this and
break it.walk in and walk out of being ok and do
it very fast do it like a firef
If you wish to write a poemgo to your father, tell him thisIf you wish to write a poem in Free Verse More Like This
is painful, you should leave, we should stay
in the Mississippi- the fish get tired quicker
elsewhere.Write a letter to your first grade
teacher, say i lied, i really did
Steal from the girl
with two ponies and i'm
glad i did and then let you
Teach me about god. Its greater without another
syllable but goddammit that was grief,and i respect you
for your innocence. Write to your teenage self
Stop babies ahead but no don't
fuck around.When you want to write a poem
become a month of harvest instead.Write to yourself
for every letterbox you fruitlessly dissected in your teens,
for how you reached only bones each time organs
missing as blood or bile.become a month
Of overflowing trashcans from the binge
eating acne menstrual
problems break ups. drink a solution
of explosives and apple juice,every Eve learning to explode, buy her own food
or eat out of her ovaries. Dont make any make nothing
but excuses or someone believe.Write
To yourself your metaphors are
April3 HeavyI am butApril3 Heavy in Free Verse More Like This
A heavy oil
That will never dry.
The paint is thick
But my mouth
I once tried to email God.Here is the reply i received:I once tried to email God. in Open More Like This
LostWe aren't ready for this world. This world isn't ready for us.Lost in Open More Like This
We turn diamonds into coal and bury it in our own inadequacy.
Tearing down what we have yet to build.
We bite the hand that feeds and spit in the eye of the beholder.
Because no one needs to tell us how disgusting we are.
Suffocating corporations with their own profits
Hanging priest with the same ropes used to tie down whores
Irony is a bitch.
We've become Technicolour shapes in a black and white world.
Beautifully, artistically, gracefully unraveling everything our ancestors tried to make us.
We raise our glasses to our own destruction
Sweet cyanide on the lips of a lost generation
Therapeutic smiles on the faces of dying ideals.
RecreationLet's paint the sunset with pieces of our ruptured mindsRecreation in Open More Like This
Using loaded steel paintbrushes pressed against hopeful pallets.
Clouds as vacant as our eyes will be the canvas.
I'll dance through the night with you, to
Hollow laughter and screaming thunder played
On the filthy windows
By our repulsive souls.
The air is succumbing to our heavy, cold, aching hearts.
You're leaving with the man on the moon?
Ease the door shut on the way out,
I don't want to make too much of a mess.
MuteI made love to you one nightMute in Free Verse More Like This
and came back feeling as beaten
as the bus I sat in.
I held on to the frayed seat,
the weight of remorse
bearing down on me.
Staring out the window,
I felt my fingers numb.
Hidden away like a dreadful sin,
I still wait for you.
Come, suck the sweetness out of me.
Drink me, be sated.
Today, you celebrate your anniversary;
and my weakness.
Notebook scribbles - 1My wandering mind rests in your eyes,Notebook scribbles - 1 in General Non-Fiction More Like This
trying in vain to understand.
One brief second, and it goes insane.
The thoughts are lost in all its vastness.
They have no connection and make no sense, but
they are plenty.
Plenty enough to keep me going, through all this madness.
The portal between the mind and eyes
is now but a thin line, as vague as it is unseen.
The mind is unaware of what the eyes convey.
The eyes fail to convey the message in yours.
I wish to tell you that it's me and not you,
but my being fails to comprehend.
All that is said now is nothing.
I let it be, for there really is nothing to say.
Black and whiteMy hands are pressing piano keys,Black and white in Free Verse More Like This
black, white, white, black, white.
You are there, sitting at a distance.
Staring into the Earth, tall grass and shadows and all,
dirt waiting to get into your nails.
The sun here is always either rising or setting.
This is today and that, tomorrow.
We have no in betweens.
Four SeasonsFour Seasons.Four Seasons in Free Verse More Like This
I want to see them all in a day.
I want to see Autumn,
I cannot be if the leaves don't fly
and fall to Earth.
I want to see Winter,
I cannot be without the caress of fire
in the wild cold.
I want to see Summer,
I cannot be without the long, hot days
as round as a watermelon.
I want to see your eyes,
I don't want to sleep if you're not looking at me:
I'd give up Spring
for you to keep on looking at me.
Another one, another timeThe stereo is vomiting our every song one by one.Another one, another time in Free Verse More Like This
But there is a silence, thick as custard
that tells a story of
two lovers and twenty thousand loves.
You are here with me, listening too.
Climbing on to my collar bone,
licking my earlobe and teasing my every sense,
before you settle, lodged between my ribs.
I think always, of how it would be
if we stayed close enough to touch
but not kiss,
to discover what we loved and hated
before we separated.
I wished that in the whiteness of your room,
I found a space next to you,
just by your side -
to see the world
the way you saw it.
Staring at the ceiling didn't
feel the same without you.
Still, I have no regrets.
I am more fragrant now that
I recognise myself as an entity separate from you.
I reek of my own mistakes,
and bloom alone on dew-kissed magenta mornings.
But one day, we will bloom together once again,
shaming sunflowers and shutting up glottis.
You are yours and I am mine.
One day, very soon,
I will have words to put out here,
The OrificeLost in the proses of the questions the world posesThe Orifice in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
In the dusk of autumn percipitation
And the unbound relentless frost that forms inside.
Wish to vanquish and make tranquil the greylands
and the high roads
Both in the way of crossing over to the other side.
To believe there is more to the world than fascist order
and join the pacifist side.
Walls of the labyrinth are painted with mud, honey and technicolour dreams
And on the walls there is an Orifice to fill them with stories
Stories we live through, enjoy and endure.
We are intertwined.
We are a Story.
DreamscapesThe outline is halfway done. I want to paint my dreams with stronger strokes, with brighter colors. The outcome should not be a result of preconceived notions. It should be a symbol of my presence but should also reflect on my ambiguity. Every layer should scream of my contemplation, my journey. Now that I think about it I realize that it doesn't need an outline. It doesn't need definition. It should be painted on my shell once I come out of it.Dreamscapes in Emotional More Like This
Life is just a rideThe eerie night has crept in through the back door. Morning was spent in pursuit of happiness, in wanting to acquire lust for life. These lonely streets leave me in oscillating polarity. No pain no joy no love no hate. The calm outside is only to pose as an opposite to the sweet cacophony inside. The journey to the edge will make us realize that the edge exists till the extent of our discovery. Life is just a ride.Life is just a ride in Emotional More Like This
To us and our firefliesDrenched by the luminescence under the saffron skies, beyond the train tracks and the muddy crossroads we leave our world behind to enter a simpler time. A time to be a child and be amazed by blinking lights. The trees, the wind, the sky and the fireflies will resonate inside me. The beauty of everything that day was amplified and magnified by the presence of her. Some words were spoken though none were required. Nothing could steal the magic. Je t'adore.To us and our fireflies in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Earth ForeverTime ever flows onEarth Forever in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
The universe still expands
We are but a blip
God's ArtRhapsody of the universeGod's Art in Free Verse More Like This
The song and art of everything.
And a pen stroke
A brush line
A single note
Our place in that,
And were too small to see
The entire canvas.
ChildI am not finished with my childhoodChild in Free Verse More Like This
I am not out of my wonderment
My knowledge cannot fill up
Like a cup. It does not overflow.
I will never grow beyond my imagination,
My youth is internal, beyond my body
Beyond my soul and beyond this world.
The young ones here are forever.
Lo to the SunIf the sun takes its time to fall from the sky,Lo to the Sun in Free Verse More Like This
And the red can stay-
For a time we can pretend the world is ending,
That we are all loved, and love
And death is not what it is today,
But what it should be
Since with this everything would be beautiful,
And though we go, we stay forever.