Sweeny Smith, and Dizzy May.
Lauren County grand motel
It’s a weird old place to be
I used to go there quite a lot
It really pleasured me
To know that nothing’s what it seems
It’s a scary kind of place
Where one meets the dregs of life
And none there have much grace.
There’s Sweeny smith, he’s big and strong
And he’s a scary guy
He really doesn’t like the world
And no one knows quite why
They Say his father dropped him when
He was a tiny lad
And now the man is not himself
Most people think he’s mad.
Now Sweeny, he is quite a man
But he hasn’t learned a lot
But most they can put up with him
Though one thing he is not
He’s not the cleanest of the men
Who live at that Motel
And though folk try to like the man
They hate old Sweeny’s smell.
One day the others got old Sweeny
And put him in a tub
They got a great big scrubbing brush
And gave him such a scrub
Now Sweeny did not like this much
And he caused such a stir
With people flying round the room
Such a frenzy did occur.
Then Dizzy May came on the scene
And Sweeny loved her so
He wanted her to stay with him
He would not let her go
Old Dizzy, She quite liked the man
But she didn’t like his smell
So she came up with a little plan
And she did Sweeny tell
‘Now look here Sweeny, here’s the deal
If you really love me so
Then you must take a bath each day
Or out the door you’ll go‘.
Now Sweeny didn’t like that much
But he loved old Dizzy may
And so he told her lovingly
‘I’ll take a bath each day‘.
And now the people look at Sweeny
With a different kind of air
Cause when he’s with his Dizzy May
You can smell them everywhere
But it is such a lovely smell
Of the sweetest kind of flowers
And now When Sweeny walks on past
There’s none that from him cower.
18 June 2013 @ 1635hrs.
I smoke this cigarette
One puff at a time
I smoke this cigarette
And wonder why I’m dying
My teeth are yellow
My lungs are black
All I do is hack and hack
My hair smells bad
My clothes stink too
Is that why you don’t want me next to you
I can’t walk up the steps
With out running out of breath
My chest feel tight
Its hard to sleep at night
I spend all my money
I could buy other thing
Hell with all I spend
I could buy diamond rings
For you or my kids that I’m going to leave behind
I can’t believe I don’t care that I’m dying
With birth is a new beginning,
A destination to a new journey ahead
From a child grown into maturity
With youth to age
From innocent to awareness
And ignorance to just knowing,
Perhaps to wisdom
From the weakness to the strength
Health to sickness
We pray to good health again
A path each of us follow
With dreams of success in our lives
To being happy with bliss and love our selfs
And one another
We could have a life filled with loves joy
To treasure always forever
A new life miracle is born into that
First new life of natures blessings
Never take anything for granted
For this new life is a gift from the heavens
To always cherish forever and each is unique
By Brian otoole
Alphabet Constructs 3 2 1
Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees
Bulimec Barbies browse media monkey banalaties
Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios
Dopamine dreams dilenate check cash desires
Echo endorfins eulogize bullet brain excrement
Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivoloties
Gonadial grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities
Helical hemorriods hinder senior stricken hemocraps
Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate post partem iconoclasts
Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers
Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs
Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies
Malovent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules
Nevertheless nightengales nourich ruby rich noonbeams
Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages
Pensive picses picnics lovelorny passions
Queer quiet quintensials release rancid quotients
Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble reprocussions
Silky seafoam silohouttes fornicate frothy sandlets
Tepid torch trilogies belie beligerent tourniquets
Useless utterences utilize organize orgasmic utopias
Venimous vixens violate cruel.com visions
White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds
XY XX xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms
Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yeilds
Zen zealous zions mirror maginfy Zoneotones
Pain pain go away,
You little b!tch you cannot stay.
I want you gone, Far from me
F*ck off now, and leave me be.
sick of doctors, sick of stress,
Sick n' tired of takin meds.
I want to know what's wrong with me,
A want to be "normal", cant you see?
It wont happen this I know,
With my bloodline,.... it goes to show....
Life is Harsh, Life is good
Only the few of the proud
Those men that stand for a great nation
Their life at the stake
So rough and sharp
Every day is another challenge
For them and for all
Freedom we all hope
But sometimes feel lost
Never give up that spark
Hope don’t give it up for a price
And when I see these great men and woman
Risk their life for a single child lost
With guns all around and wars of hate
I feel blessed as my country truly stands brave
A child is a gift of new life and hope
As I see the children in their arms saved at last
Only then will I ever know true courage
This is a path we should always cherish and follow
When the flame burns out nothing is left but stay strong
So please don’t shed a tear I am right here
By your side always and forever
Our country stands not alone, but as one
Heart filled with love
Poem for Treasures of Your soul contest
when rob stepped out of the courthouse,with charges for posession
he thought "it could be worse,it could have been for weapons"
and then he thought..."nothing really matters anyway"
when liz stepped of of the rehab,with a new outlook on life
she felt all those same feelings of hurt, pain, and strife
and then she thought "nothing really matters anyway"
when luke picked up his young son from daycare,and knew he had an hour
he thought back to the time he WOULD have stopped to grab his now EX-wife some flowers
and then he thought "nothing really matters anyway"
when lisa lifted up her body with nothing but her arms,and looked down at her legs
she wondered why the heck they were even THERE anyway..what for?
and then she thought "nothing really matters anyway"
all four people that same night,all in their own homes
picked up a remote,turned on the news and watched it come to blows
one man had done 25 years in jail,for something he had not really done
one woman lost the battle to addiction,one she thought she'd already won
one boy got hit by a car on his bike,he just only 5 his parents,divorced
one man lost his arms and legs while over fighting the war
four different people,four different lives,four different struggles,all about to cry
four different souls,four different heart,four different minds,all to have a fresh start
why does it take a reality check to pull us into gear?
why is it that reality sometimes must be our greatest fear?
the next time you think you're the only one who hurts and has plight
the next time you feel you're all alone,the only one who cries at night
try and remember,try not to forget,that you are never alone
whether you're telling your mom and dad your gay to the face or over the phone
whether your wife divorced you,your husband's a dog,or your kids have NO respect
you are human,deserve more,and you're not alone,cause' there is someone right next....
to you!!! nothing really matters. until you realize...nothing really matters.
I'M AS YOUNG AS I FEEL
I'M NOT GETTING OLD. I'M AS YOUNG AS CAN BE.
THERE'S NOTHING AT ALL THE MATER WIT ME.
MY HAIR IS NOT GRAY. THERE'S A SILVERY SHINE.
MY BACK IS NOT BENT I'VE A FANCY SHAPED SPINE.
WHEN I BREATHE, I DO NOT HAVE A WHEEZE.
I HAVE FUNNY SHAPED LEGS, BUT NOT BANDY KNEES.
MY TEETH ARE NOT GONE BECAUSE THE WERE OLD.
I EAT TOO MANY SWEETS, OR SO I'VE BEEN TOLD.
THESE HEARING AIDS, NOT FOR DEAFNESS, I'M SURE.
THEY SAY THAT PREVENTION IS BETTER THAN CURE.
I'M NOT GETTING SLOWER. I JUST TAKE MY TIME,
THE COLD DOESN'T GET ME. I ALWAYS FEEL FINE.
I DON'T HUFF AND PUFF MY WAY BACK FROM THE SHOP.
I DON'T GET TIRED AND DON'T HAVE TO STOP
YES, MY HAIR IS A LITTLE BIT LIGHT.
IT MUST HAVE BEEN THE SHAMPOO I WAS USING LAST NIGHT.
MY PULSE IS NOT DIM, IT'S JUST HARD TO FIND.
MY BONES ARE NOT BRITTLE, THERE ONE OF A KIND.
THESE ARE NOT WRINKLES, JUST MATURE SKIN.
I AM VERY WELL PROUD OF THE SHAPE I AM IN.
I'M AS FIT AS A FIDDLE, A SPRING CHICKEN STILL.
I AM NOWHERE NEAR OR OVER THE HILL.
THE GOLDEN AGE IS A LONG WAY AWAY.
UNTIL I AM READY, THATS WHERE IT CAN STAY.
BY SHIRLEY MOODY...
The way i feel is weird
I feel death coming very near
I feel this dark feeling
I think i stop breathing
When I cry it rains blood
But my pain feels like mud
I feel sad
But at the same time I feel mad
I don't know what to do
I feel like a foo
i feel black
I think i stared bleeding from my back
I feel dead
I just want to get blast in the head
The way i really feel is emo
And my emotions won't help it
please receive me
i've been stumblin around
i wan't heaven now
how do I get that?
do I stop eatin meat
stop being me
How do I get to Heaven?
I NEEDS my mama
I need my Sons
before everyones eyes
after all,a woman's mistakes are different from a girl's
they are etched by fire on stone
they are in fact considered traits, not just errors
and now you're so alone
when you were 14 they all said how much potential you had
now you hit 19 or 20, and you're just considered bad
if you were a troubled kid, things were different than most for you
and i don't mean GETTING in trouble,although for some,it's that too
but depression is so very real,they just have no idea
and looking in the mirror to feel,you must skip your next meal
you are never good enough,and always fall just short of pretty
although you are considered smart and extremley funny and witty
they way that you percieve yourself,is different than what others see
at least that's what i have been told,do you agree with me?
but why is it that when your younger,people just want to help
but once you reach 19 or 20,your just dealt the cards your dealt
i don't feel any different inside,i can tell you that for certian
the older i get,the less they care,i hide behind a curtain
i'm still a kid at 21,at 22 as well..
im still a child in alot of ways,living in an emotional hell
where did all the helping hands go,the ones that were there before
i blame myself for not taking that help and will forever more
because now apparently,it's too late,nobody cares about me
i am not a cute little girl,just a woman who needs to be free
i ask of you,human to human,the next time you want to judge
pray for patience if you need to,ask for help from above
but something tells me im not alone,there are others who experienced this
there are others out there that need help so badly,please don't miss
don't miss their smiles,that are still so young,even though they look so grown
at 21 we are not adults,and pretending we are makes us feel alone
maybe i AM alone in this feeling,i have no idea
but what i do know,for sure i feel...this is very real.
school can be boring or fun.most kids don't like school.but some kids
do.you may get frustrayted or even sad and get mad.one day you will get
it.so never give up and always go to school. Me i love to go to school! Everybody should
have fun and enjoy school because there's lots to learn about and have a great education!!
At my point of delusion
When it seems all gone
All my fears wash away
Into the torrent of the ocean
I feel at peace
For the first time
I am who I want to be
I am where I am born to be
I fear my dreams
And wish my illusions were real
And in my evasive world
Reality is my nightmare
A sentence to death be damned
I will struggle to make this my truth
I have but one regret
That my family suffers for my retreat
Hauling away day by day
But who will revive it
I see their rage over my disorder
T’was love that set me apart
And pulled me from reality
But for their sake
I must return back to the world I once knew
I must fight this virus
That disturbs my mind I must return to you my lovers
What once was Golden inside and out.
Now stops my progression, within me I shout.
Everyday gets harder especially the start.
Just to be normal...with good health I can’t part.
A mystery prison has all specialists confounded.
Whilst I wait, in my mind and body I am bounded...
there here till the end and when you need a helping hand they are most
likely to help.they will always be there when your sad or happy or
maybe even angry and scared.
everyone has one.they can be old names.they can be different names.they
can be celebrity names.they can be silly names!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
when someone says you need to forgive someone for something
that does not mean you are saying what they did was okay
when they tell you to just let it go,unhook the anchor...
they mean for you,not for them,see a better day
you are giving someone power,when you let them affect your life to that extent
so forgive someone for YOUR own sake,actually DOES make sense
you hear alot of cliche' things,especially growing up like i did
but at the end of the day,i refuse to let them be that big
the creepy man that scarred you for life,or maybe an abusive husband
the girl that plays mindgames with the good man that's in love with her
that mother who let the stepfather abuse you cause' she "loved him"
or the father that drank and said nothing but "okay" and "sure"
no matter what your situation,you must forgive them promptly
you must forgive them for you,not for them,this doesn't mean it wont be rocky
it's hard to forgive, but its even harder to forget
but if you hold onto these grudges you will regret
you will become a bitter human being,with tons of exhausting baggage
thinking about these things and re-feeling them will run you ragged
trust me,i've lived it
im trying to fix it
im not perfect,im only human
but im trying at least,to remove it
let it go.
unhook the anchor.
let it go.
unhook it from your ankle.
My world ia located in a small, georgia town
where I was raised as a child.
My parents still live right up the road,
Not more than a country mile!
My life has had its share of ups and downs
I have had extensive health prolems for the past ten years.
But, I have learned to face the bad times
I have learned to conquer my fears!
I have , with help, become a brave person
I no longer run to the closet and hide
I face these monsters, look them straight in the eye,
And take what is dealt me with pride!
So, this girl may live in a small, georgia town
And my health may not be the best in the world
But, if you ever want to see where I live,
Just come to Georgia and look up this good ole country girl
she is the best.they can get angrey.but she always will be their for
you.when you have a have a problem she will always help.thats what
mothers are for
train is juxtaposition
refined, through filters, the web
you said you were gonna take me to the movie's
you said you were gonna take me out for dinner
you said you were gonna take me to the mall
but you broke your word.
thank you for the nice things you say about me.
thank you for the nice thing's you bought me
thank you for doing good things with me.
thank you for helping me when i needed a helping hand.
now what's all left to say is...................................
thank you thank you thank you thank you
Friend add brother
train is juxtaposition
refined, through filters, the web
All I’d like to say is
Being me like being you isn’t easy
Crying, caring on, calling on
Dog on near anybody
Easily, evil or equally
Far out of me
Gassed, as I am
Halt! Who are you?
“I’m daughter of eve, and you are a mere
Jester of leave, so
Kindly remove your hand from my sleeve”
My being me like you is fascinating
Time will tell if
War you will
Your life of mine, after
Zen will come bursting in
leans against the pllow in pain, pains of cultivated years wastes in vain, going to bed with everthing in trousers, not any man but those in executive trousers, that posh car ride. now posh aids ride, waiting for death to come. and death too waits for to come. years of hard work in undergraduate days, ready to compensate good coming days. now the cloud is dark. for unstoppable tears to embark, on the journey of eyelash wetting.
Sleep makes us happier, healthier and sexier
Though millions of Americans suffer without.
24 –7 = TV, sports, video games and deadlines
Make us wonder what life is about.
Cigarettes, booze, coffee and the new born
Can all rob you of precious sleep.
Being broken hearted over someone lost
As you lie without them and weep.
Multitudes pop the little green butterfly
Or some other pill to obtain precious rest.
Making time for prayer, love, laughter and song
Improve our sleep to endure God’s test .
While sleeping we dream of now and here after
The good, the bad and who we wish not to be.
Passing our burdens to the hands of God
Who fashioned all we hear, breath and see.
The magic of sleep sustains the heart beats of life
Our ability to reason, overcome and succeed.
Without its presence, we wither on the vine
Victims of exhaustion, worry and greed.
By Tom Zart
this is a true story just so everyone knows hes my nephew from doris.
he was born in saint joe's hospital.
he was born at 2:10 am.
born march 25 2008 wich seems to be the day im writing this poem.
he weighs 8 pounds and 1 ounce.
he is very cute.
he's got some big feet but his feet are cute.
he is doris lee's nephew.
i wrote this poem becaouse i just went to see him just got home an hour ago so i
thought i would right a poem about him becouse im onley nine and he's my
nephew i just love him so much i would write in this poem his name but i dont
really no how becouse his name has different ways to spelling his name.
He's there, wheelchair
Hair combed, skin sweet
Like he's goin to church
But came to see me
And his woman, so dear
Always so near
I have moments I could fall
Against this proud man
But sturdy, trustworthy
Instead my hand
Kim Holmes, Nurse
she woudn't listen to me she woudn't at all she said it was his fault, but he took
the fall, it wasent him it was me she wont listen to me you see,i,ve tryed
everything i,ve tryed them all i even tryed to smash my head into a wall.She wont
listen she wont at all i wil never get her to listen to me ,only to the man who took
i,ve tryed my best she woudn't listen now shes makeing me listen, shes says its
him i did nothing she sayed it was he who was lusting.if she would listen i would
tell her to, but she wont listen so i am through.i wil try to forget i wil try to not regret
she still rights poems of this loss i can't stoper for i am not the boss.
im afraid if she doesn't listen
she wil get in trouble and wined up in abysin.so this is my poem about her i wil
not forget not once indeed.for it is my fault that i took her man indeed.
Stares from Random people,
People I dont know,
Scary doctors visits,
All the news,
Wheelchairs and people asking "why are you in one of those?"
People taking the handicap spots,
Not being able to walk.
These are the reasons why,
I hate having spina bifida.
THINGS NOT EQUAL
There are those who reach an age past 100,
while some never chanced to live.
There are those who share their blessings,
while some choose not to give.
There are those who have never gone hungry,
while some never survive.
There are those who find fame and fortune,
while some dreams shatter and die.
There are those who are rich and famous,
while some are poor and alone,
There are those with power and possessions,
while some are without a home.
There are those who are happy and healthy,
While some are sick and depressed.
There are those who believe life is the end,
while some say: “it was just a test!”
By Milton Lopez Delgado
December 4, 2011
I wrote your name in the sky,
but the wind blew it away.I wrote your name in the sand,
but the waves washed away.
I wrote your name in my heart,
and forever it will stay.
You've got the face of a pepperoni pizza and the body of a mason jar
You use your body as a storage unit for Hot Pockets, Doritos and fudge bars
Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey
You are the king or queen of the junk food junkies
Peanut butter toast with Hershey's Chocolate Syrup
But the chocolate milk shake always comes first
You get your breakfast directly from the king
Dessert is always the queen
Appetizers are pizza rolls
Followed by the doughnut holes
The doughnuts themselves you will have later
While in the parking garage elevator
For dinner, no surprise, it's Taco Bell
Still hungry? Well have three ice cream sandwiches with Magic Shell
At midnight, it's time for bed
A movie comes on, so you have a soda and chips instead
At 4am you want to get some rest
Not before your omelette with Egg Land's Best
Your grocery bill has become a car note
You curse the cost of food, with a mouth full of a Banana Boat
I don't know how you do it, as you strut through town
I wish I could freely and not worry about my pounds
Some say it's aggression, others say depression
Well something has made your appetite enter the fourth dimension
I have forever thought about death
Living my life was such a threat
so when I decided to write this poem
I thought long and hard about what could go wrong
the way people interpret things
Makes the poetic thought not want to sing
still I write My thoughts all down on paper
wonder "Will it draper?"
over their Naive eyes
Will they see it, probably not, they're too demised
They will see me wanting nothing
hiding from this world of something
OPPERTUNITY is NOT seize the day
CARPE DIEM thats what they say
the only seizing that I'll do
is when my body goes "Achoo!"
And my body drops hard to the floor
like some battering ram knocking down a door
then to the hospital they will take me
and UP the dosage all the way, SEE?
to make things worse they'll find something new
like what was once juvenile is becoming prgressive too
then people will treat me nicer
because I have problems to decipher
about this wretched little life I live
so, now, I say it again
I have forever thought about death
living MY life is suchs a threat
to all who know me one wrong touch
and THEIR lives will turn to dust
because they found me in my bed
they found me lying here, DEAD!
Im just a person that is full of lots dreams,and likes to make the world a better
place.I alway think of others be for myself. I have one sister and one brother, and
parents that care. But i believe in me, that i have a talent that i can't find, that's why
im having a hard time fiding a carrer, but i will keep trying.
me and my family has been reting sice i was 7 years old. But when i was born i
had a long peace of hair grown from my spine and my dad caught it from birth.so
when i was 7 i have to have four back surgys and i was in a weel chear for one
mounth.So i had to get a steel rod up my back. So i miss out in sports and all the
other things that people can do that i can't.I thank my dad every day for what he did
what will i do with out my parents i will be lost.
But me i feel sore everyday but i am so happy that im not in a weel chear.Im in
tears every day that i might have to go for another surgy,if i do im not, because
that was the most pain i when"t thro.
But life goes on and i keep living my life as the days go on and on. Lots of people
feel sorry for me and i say do't im still walking and i say it's a gift from GOD..
I love flowers
breath of air
no bees in sight
all air around
fushia in color...
I am your nurse
I like Southpark
I am a closet Southpark liker
I like a $400 bank overdraft protection
especially during this recession that does not exist
I wonder if can live without tangerines and chapstick
I like Vets
I like to hear what they say
I am comforted by the comfort I give
I am tender, business like, funny, professional, apologetic
I am lucky to be a nurse
She is round and short, but very sweet
This is not the kind of girl for bare cupboards, she loves to eat
If you invite her to dinner, please be advised
She will want her second helpings twice
So budget your food bill considering her invitation
You will be cooking all night, so the next day for work, ask for vacation
If she comes in the kitchen, she will insist on fresh and hot cookin'
At 5ft 2, eyes of blue and 275, she is called Puddin'
She says she entered a non-televised world wide event, hotdog eating contest
against Kobyashi and won
It was rigged so he was handed the prize, a lot of favoritism from the judges who
all are from the land of the rising sun
Her toaster pastries must be Pop Tarts
On a flight she pays for an aisle and her own dinner cart
She demands that her food be cooked with utensils that are wooden
She is a wondrous creature and her name is Puddin'
The doctor tells her she must cut back on her intake or suffer a heart attack or a
She no longer drinks regular soda, it is now all the dollar menu items and a Diet
The last time I heard about her and her whereabouts
She lives above a seafood eatery and lives on oysters, refried beans and dishes
that complement Trout
So I say good luck on your endeavors, if you ever see her, I hope you wouldn't
She is always ready to eat, may we bless that girl named Puddin'
Loneliness of non-being and,
reality, fill up the vessel.
I search for the eloquence while,
emptiness will be my forte.
Countless words are crossing
like a promise in milk-white days
I gather sunlight through grass leaves.
Life had been full of shadows,
the tapestry of love.
The descent was steep.
Coming home I found
no humming words.
Sitting in dark
I wait for shooting stars.
Measuring the blood, drawn from our hurts
was a royal reward
for your fingers.
You are allowed to compare blood
with brown coffee.
Sand in our eyes,
we walked bare-foot
on burning coals.
I was covered...
Ending of the thought
does not bring a lull.
It is a sequel beyond
my reach. An old extrication,
I dig for my roots.
The forgotten names,
the unhealing wounds of a doctrine,
a tiny memory of pulsating embryo,
not yet born !
Fear generates a kill. Ferocious movement
inside the cells slowly,
you become zero without a center.
The tangent skips
on your surface. Claustrophobia.
You start breaking the walls.
Fighting anxiety & shame
a timeless timber without a foliage.
My ignition point is hurt in
the new culture of game.
How we approach the road,
which smells the death,
blood or smoke?
The passion is a hurricane.
Uproots all the bones,
shatters all the roots.
A glory reckons after a while,
for the election of sorrow.
Tesha could run tesha could jump tesha could hurt herself and not have one bump tesha
could move tesha could hoppraactice would be over and tesha would not stop tesha was the
best the best of them all tesha could trip but never fall tesha was fast tesha wasn't
slow tesha was leading a life she didn't know tesha was smart tesha was not dumb tesha
was going to college cause tesha could run tesha had a love tesha had a life tesha was
special but she had to pay the price tesha was the best the best of them all nothing
could stop tesha but aids made her fall tesha was fast tesha wasn't slow tesha had aids
and she didn't even know
It starts out with a goal,
But the foods you choose don't make you full,
So ask Atkins what to do,
This diet fad takes a lot of getting used to,
You lose the first ten with ease,
You celebrate with a cheeseburger minus the bun and cheese,
Now it's all down hill from here,
You have read too much into your diet and now it's not so clear
open and blue
rainbows like wishes
open and blue
open and blue.....
Till the end story
hope was not visible
Lie neutral truth
and road side innocence
died under the sun.
End in view was shifting
from error to error.
Statements squeezed between departures.
Steaming cup of patience
dazzled the penniless.
I was sick of hypocrisy.
At the end of my forest
dawn of my child
was peeling a rainbow.
Pedlars of worn out boats
were standing at the shores.
Two little feet were crossing the sea.
Being was my forte,
where the words speak no more
a lifetime of black stillness,
the sunflowers sleeping.
The controller and the enquiry
freeze the ozone.
I repent again for all the sins of eloquence,
the rustling of leaves.
Take care of mood,
hoarseness and slippery speech
there is no room for pain.
A whole tribe of thoughts
scatters the lines to avoid
becoming, featureless and nameless.
Boulders are falling on feathers.
I am leaning towards eerie winds.
The other side of the door
was misty. The kiss of fire.
Mind wanders aimlessly.
The destiny breaks the steps
of sleepwalkers. They are falling in dark,
towards dark. A moon rides the clouds,
its smile becoming larger & larger.
A cyan globe
rolling in the black sky.
I was visualizing
on the horizon.
threw a noose
around my neck.
start the fires?
was of any relevance?
Who was standing
on the moon?
Self-centered was your vision
I was trying
to turn the tide.
So much bragging
could not go well with me.
The tongue had the burnt taste.
Again I was giving chase
to a mirage.
Wiping off the transient thoughts
oozing from every orifice,
I will sell my dreams today.
Limb by limb,
the naked and brute will buy
For a lost scent
I wandered from moon to moon
flitting past the sky of doves,
and the lonely winds
of crowded griefs.
The trampled earth
will not soak the joy of burning sun.
The tree and the flowers,
and the seeds falling in a heap
Now I will go in the forgotten hills
through mist and rains.
Give me some more pain,
it makes me move faster.
When I touched your pshyche,
my completeness wavered.
In the empty words
and hollow thoughts.
The road to my dream house burned.
I longed to meet my flame.
You were listening to declaration of truth.
It was a refuge,
there was no evidence
of any movement of humanity.
My soft mind took the imprint
of golden spaces between
the dark alleys of earth.
The skeletons of history remained unclaimed.
Remembering your trust
My attachment floats. Anxiety
of seeking. The dust smears
the face of epileptic truth.
The clogged arteries of mundane heart twitch.
There wasn’t room for sentiments.
Moment to moment I travelled
to break the silence in vain.
In a starry night
an adolescent thought starts
a rivalry. A baby moon squirms.
No hour was safe from terror in dark.
I climb the stairs breathlessly.
The great divide deepens in hearts.
Incisors bite the tongue,
grey cells bleed inside.
Thick ash has not stopped the cinders
smouldering under the veils of flushed peace.
Cupped tears wash the feet of death,
a caravan of words moves desolated,
cutting on the edges, before you say
goodbye to green vision.
Today I am pulling out the nails
from the walls. No hangings of departed centuries.
No portraits of exiled flames.
Only the face of truth, burning
at the interface of unthruths.
Non-eye vision penetrates.
The silent song trembles
I weave a pattern
to resolve the crisis
the escape to white
space was useless.
The ending of sorrow
was a movement on circuit
the center has started vanishing.
Thinking was preventing
the completeness of self.
A single flower is answer of nature.
The echo of pulsating memories.
the landscape is full of quotations.
No one reads. Denials
and evasions want more attention.
A new road enters the body
on the edge of a prayer
infinitely small, a handful of vowels
sailing in my mind,
give powerful eyes to faith.
The abstracted meaning
leaves a sweet taste in mouth.
I lay out a mud path for the reader.
Unfolding the dark night,
quarter moon shrinks
The bitterness of the day,
cave weird taste,
burning the tongue.
You didn’t want to live,
anymore. Roots lopsided,
starved. Age, language slashed,
mist rising. Names in the dust.
The ending was not there
sorrow burnt like candle
burning the meaningless words,
dreams, I hear the silent whispers
of wounds of faltering steps,
doubting the pain. Beyond
the age tales were endless.
Watching became a problem.
Nothing could be redeemed
by choice. I wanted
endless journey to find
the windows. long steps
towards immovable cliffs,
my own version of anonymity
and grace. Because glorification
has started the fear,
the escape and suffering.
YOU dressed me down today
for interupting your conversation
said I was unprofessional
Don't you get, I care bout the patient?
How DARE you speak to me like YOU DO
Your education does not negate the fact
You can't talk to people, the way YOU DO
in fact, you can kiss my ass
I appreciate stuff the stuff you done
Stuff that should have been done anyway
we give you alot, more than our families
Let me change the contours of life,
Spider webs have
elective sites of emotions.
I want to open a new range,
to locate the corrupt moments.
Turn over your face,
let me find the scars.
The soaring pinnacle,
fatherless fame, were declining.
The rot was setting on
the fresco of the wall.
Aspiring for god-head
they have choked the fluiting.
Hands and eyes are cadaverous,
unmoving. Sun is burning very hot.
today we have to bid farewell
to neutral day.
Life will not spare the casting.
Too much mist
has settled on the eyes,
raining madness on the road.
Month and years
are giving incontinence.
I allowed you to tread on me unflinchingly.
My mind on pause,
ungrieved you turn back the clock.
Enough to stun the century,
I take cognisance of divine’s club foot.
I did not believe in self-pity
but I was racing against time
to avoid a jealous path running with me.
Yet I was sleeping on bushes of estranged thorns
without locking my golden age.
Tulips are no more my favourites.
You have to dig deep to plant the bulbs
and wait. When death opens the door for me,
I wanted to be free from any commitment
and ready to walk in, like a foot soldier.
This cosmos is mine, body is for you.
It no more obeys my command.
No more commas are needed,
a final full stop will do.
I am returning back to my home.
Leaving the faint traces,
of some diluted thoughts
You empty yourself completely.
Poverty and shame without an arithmetic,
is the poetry of life.
Using the body instead of words.
Always needing currency,
to open the doors of clarity.
Naked without skin,
we survive on crumbs of charity.
Lending our organs to develop,
an order of mortality.
I refuse to taste the bitterness,
preserve my sanctity,
go for another version of god,
thinking, how to think.
For the inward freedom,
I forsake safety pins,
walking, bleeding on the jagged stones.
Pain of realization is deeper,
than the hurt.
Cry silently in the veins
pure resistance will not work now.
I will try the fiction path.
In search of a missing clock
he went to the city of a fake encounter.
It was irrelevant to find
the lost tunnel.
There was no street without a rustle.
The sap of tall trees had bloomed
into jaws of death.
He stepped on a land mine
and blew himself
to reach the truth.
And his gift was an
apostate of me.
The tenth day moon will
celebrate my becoming nobody.
The rivals will have
a field day
dancing on my shroud.
A heap of voices hails you, when you stop
in the tract.
The silence migrates to new depths
where silhouettes are created,
on the veil of solitude.
It was the flame of pride.
Only there was being,
Of non – being.
A load is lifted. a tender death smiles
I walk in the deep woods,
to collect my mother’s ashes.
She had a scented presence in the sunset.
I will weave a pattern,
of shooting stars in the black sky.
I may not go back
to the epitaph, for a goddess of first
and last war with my conscience.
The full text of infinite pain,
will remain a secret.
I never wanted to remain blameless.
The sneaking time will tell the truth.
Do you need a sanitizer for contaminated hands ?
They were busy in illustrating the ugly contours
Up and down you were out of joint,
and your feet were not fastened to the ground.
Untainted a shrill voice prepares to rise
from the sullen men
huddled on the floor,
for the sad demise of a grand master.
The green truth was nowhere to be seen.
People are getting down for a feast
to invoke peace for the departed soul.
I am miserable,
cannot blast the fake ceremony.
Year after year the doomed city performs a ritual
for the coronation of a new king.
The sky is divided by domes, towers, minarets
and tall turrets.
cannot see the moon clearly at night
I reject the old abstractions
draw the ink from the blood
and paint a tarantula.
The identity moves ahead
of the shadow of truth
I search for the absolute
in vain. Can I remove the emptiness
and talk to myself ?
The core feeling is same.
We flow in our own separateness.
I want to outlive my brethren
and eat my death alone.
Mindful I watch the kernel,
swaying tree is silent
I am here due to a fault in the genes.
Grief is not my skull house.
Each night I sleep with dry lips
dreaming a lake.
My pillow floats like a chopped moon.
Silence of anonymity
in the heart of a storm.
It is a curious apparition.
The vibrations of distant whispers
fill up the lungs,
ripping apart the veins.
My inside blood utters
a shrill sob.Where to go?
We cannot return back. Ending of time?
Walking alone in
the dishevelled inner space
I find peace in my failure,
an innocent patch of a silent hurt.
The futility of hollow beliefs
crawls like a spent thunder.
Truth remains unborn.
I cross a bridge where eterniry begins.
The freaks chase the shadow for a while,
the idea so excruciating
they melt in conspiracy of silence.
In oneness and suchness
the harmony drips
from infinite pores.
The seed has a history.
Lost in resonance of outer space,
now wakes the blood,
distorting the ripples.
I Have seen the light, and been granted the key to Heaven.
God will not push or pull me , yet he will embrace me with open arms.
My world of bright by day, and Dark by night has kept behind my loving ways.
Quote me on this for this is what I have to say
Please don't mourn me, instead celebrate my life, and remember me as I was.
"Forget me not I say"
But remember this forever, and always.
Now I'm with God in the kingdom of heaven, to help watch over you, and guide
you and your family threw your future days.
The decline was steep.
Somewhere the clouds burst in tears.
Sitting on the flat prejudice
we weaved a gift of poison for everyone.
It did not stain our shirts.
The big fat people moved about
with great confidence to change the world.
I suffered inwardly.
Perhaps the greed drank
from our passions.
A spectre of hounding.
Which never stopped.
My parents knew better,
always talked of comportment.
Like our love for neighbours.
The turmoil drifted now in our hearts.
A self-potrait became
the vehicle of death
I visited myself,
to wind up the matters of concern.
The graffiti on the abandoned
walls of memories erased
time, altered the wounds,
and trembling shadows.
Sunrise will provide me a lesson.
A view from the cause,
alters the landscape in you
I surrender to the earth,
the roots. Purifying the leaves.
I tell myself, this was not me,
my music. Still my skin
has the tattoos of pandemic deafness.
I am breathing through the lips.
My attachment to death
is a private affair
my voice lies in a lake.
The butterfly in a womb.
the psalms under the rocks.
Is it ending of death
or death of ending?
I go beyond the brink,
drop the stone in water.
When the moon touches
my eyes, like a kiss
I start sharing the menu of night.
The rimless thoughts are hovering
like small birds. I listen
to their flappings.
Can we live without bargaining?
Do you know the price?