i feel a deep fear within me,
logical yet irrational
stuck between can and cannot
limited by dimensional thought
theorizing the distance from if to is
every moment measured
by a metric of failure and success
lost in a reality that has not yet
or may not arrive
.
and yuh smile
a lot
and i nevuh
seen eyne
brown
sparkle
i
wuhnt tuh
yuh
bite me
kiss me
shut me up
Rumple Stein tapped his cane
on the dusty floorboards,
gathering the children in the
mansion's dark parlor.
"Long ago, this very house
belonged to a hunchback
goblin named Quasimodo, "he
whispered, pointing up.
"He had ears like a bat, feet
like a duck, and a crooked
back shaped like a giant
potato."
The grandfather clock
chimed midnight, its heavy
ticks matching the rhythm of
the children's racing hearts.
Quasimodo didn't want to hurt
anyone, Rumple Stein grinned,
he just hated people making loud
noises.
Suddenly, a loud, scraping
THUD- THUD- THUD echoed right
above their heads from the
dark attic stairs.
When the kids don't clean their
rooms, he stalks through the
halls and hides their favorite
toys!
The children gasped, looking
nervously at the dark corners
of the room as the curtains
rustled.
"He is watching right now,
waiting to see who leaves
their shoes on the floor
tonight."
Rumple Stein chuckled softly,
closed his book, and said,
"Now go clean up before
Quasimodo finds you."
You’ve tried to make my name into a laughingstock
You’ve tried to fill my heart with discontent
You’ve tried to add scorn to my name
You’ve tried to bring damnation upon my home
You’ve tried to bring me and my family to shame
You’ve tried to fill my brain with thoughts of ending life
but now you want to tilt my halo into your crooked crown!
Rainbow rhapsody
morphs into morose mélange
of fractured fervor,
sordid shades of blue
paint linen of love, frayed.
Sanguinity songs turn
into nonsensical noise
echoed by soul, arcane.
Leitmotif of life seen
through indolent cynic lens
of distorted essence,
magnifies manifold
into crooked contortion
of convoluted conscience, aberrant.
A smile is both sunshiny and bright,
but what I see on your face tonight,
is a curve of nefarious design,
a grin that's just a crooked line.
The games of shady business:
selling their soul to the highest bidder
~ we just watch in horror
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
I saw god near a pawnshop today:
He had a crack pipe and
a crooked smile.
When he asked me for
a quarter, I gave it to
him.
And that’s when he
told me of his
omnipotence.
What a neat
guy.
Crooked House
Be content.
Don’t take life for granted.
Crooked house.
Be you all around.
Sometimes pulling weeds.
Complaining, don’t feed.
Through harvest.
It's a test.
Be concontent.
Each day is a gift.
Sometimes down in the valley.
Count your blessings.
Short on change.
That's O.K.
Grateful anyway.
Down to earth.
Don’t ask for much.
A crooked house.
Standing at a dusty crossroads,
The sun brutally beats down
Upon flesh left for dead.
High noon mingles with midnight;
Diminishing reality becomes increasingly threadbare.
Brittle tumbleweeds drift tragically away.
Beady-eyed vultures swoop, circling.
Gravity's pull feels increasingly heavy
Against unrelenting waves of sorrow—
Karma's come to collect its dues.
Squinting in due south’s direction,
A dilapidated shack instantaneously appears.
An invisible pull propels me;
Fate’s hand opens the door.
Forward I march toward uncertainty.
I walked amongst people for miles
With hidden faces
And crooked Smiles.
My will to leave, my bliss,
For I searched for me.
I have seen me,
When no mirrors comfort it.
That voice, that plays with soul.
A place so cold,
But I hold to hope.
I’m tired of feeling so stiff,
My mind wanders like a thief who seeks.
Am I but a man lost indeed?
My childhood plagues my grief.
Wars within my thoughts,
My mind at a dance for its bride.
She lays her ways on me,
The choice I chose for me—
Mine or something far from me?
Who am I,
But a word from Thee?
Truth be told,
I know not me.
For my mind at war with Thee,
To find me in places so hollow like me.
Will I oppose the dance she offered me?
Voices so seductive,
But words too pale for me.
I have searched for me,
But the whole too dark to see.
If I could follow Thee,
But faith wouldn’t rescue me.
For was I made for Thee,
To see me as He/She pleases?
The choice I make,
Because fear lives within.
I prose a dinner with Thee,
Let me search for me.
For my being so crooked to see,
A place for peace to live.
For my road so narrow but real,
I can see me,
But crooked as Thee.
By P.Fualem
But a linear crate,
You create your plate in days.
The seventh you lay,
For labor came to take its wage.
A circle, a grave we say—
Ohh, we are safe!
She lays in weight,
To maim and tame it seems.
Heavy to souls lost in hate,
Sorry, I meant to say in state.
Yes, the state of your mind in phases.
The clocks of ages,
Who linger like mages.
The moon,
Too glows but bold and slow.
Yes, slow,
For days with no faces.
Who finds themselves in strange,
But scary places?
To state my claim,
I lay waste the names they gave,
Biased on my faith.
Tunes unsure,
Far in future of stasis.
Some things lay in wait,
Measured in vain but valued too fame.
Distant, for that voice—
For humanity but a distant tone.
Truth be told,
For the man who knows
Is that soul in search of gold.
What do we know?
For man, for who is free?
But chained by the song that sings,
The ears that hid,
The calls of choice,
But a pond for life’s law came to leave.
By P.Fualem
My crooked heart
A tempest beat to a falling stride,
To whom may embark on this funny ride?
Bee nature's guide to see you rise—
So much beauty in plain sight.
What if it seems all but lies?
Yes, lies! For they are as crooked as the Maker’s ways.
Don't be fractured by nature's game.
Have you seen its ways?
So unlawful, it preys away.
Ohh, the ways of its gaze,
A globe so small in million ways.
Let me tell you about nature's gaze:
Tomorrow’s mirror lays in waste,
For guilty pleasure but a center stage.
Dance and celebrate—so naive, they came to play.
Let me hold you in place; don’t lose your faith.
Yes, you. For you are safe in grace.
I hope so. Hmm!
But you danced on its grave and thought it went unnoticed?
By P. Fualem
You say I should/
Pay for my crimes/
But, I'm innocent/
You won't be satisfied/
Till you put/
A bullet in my head/
You call me *****/
Because of my conviction/
But, I don't stoop/
To that level/
I never done that/
But, you won't stop/
Even after my body/
Lays in the ground/
You will always/
Have a reason/
To find fault with me/
You call yourself/
A... Christian/
But, your love for Jesus/
I do not see/
All you ever share/
Is your hate towards me/
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