I love her
She loves the third-person
The third person loves another one
The fourth person loves me
But I disregard her
©Chattogram/Feb'25
Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter
A beautiful newness, radiant energy, and cooling before the splinter
Morning, Noon, Evening and Night
The sweet glory, the mid-day sun, a cooling sunset and dusk that's void of light
Birth, growth, decay, and death
Man enters, he lives, he withers, then he takes his last breath
Into and out, energy goes
A natural torus field is where it flows
winter in coma
rains relentlessly shed tears ~
my torn thatched hut leaks
12 January 2022
joyful
sunny daze
this road
Disguising things on puppet strings
Let me go please, let me go
I’m pulled straight out of my mind
My twisted affliction a sadistic addiction
An unsolvable encryption as wants become needs
It burns and it bleeds
All the thorns and the weeds begin to grow and spread seeds
Uncontrollable urges as the energy surges
And the enemy merges inside
Truth became lies and the divinity died
Forever is gone in a day
What once held so dear now crippled in fear
Is carelessly thrown far away
What kept my heart fed lays bleeding deep red
While sinister smiles ahead
The engine keeps running
So swift and so cunning
It is done before I realize it’s dead
I thought I might cry to see this heart die
Nothing is felt here instead
For before it was done the enemy won
And darkness had swallowed the sun
I see no more light only darkness and night
With serpents that slither and bite
When I get up to fight their coils get tight
Breathing becomes shallow and slight
And as I lay panting the demons are chanting
Chasing my sweet dreams away
a poem
pestering a mind to post
& this inside is like hills
on volcanic reactions
or the tremulous voices
of nine masquerades
from the nine villages
of one clan -
tumultuous
quivering
fearfully appeasing
headed for a fiery fire
kindled by unseen
ancestors
hidden by these roots
the roots of my blood
the blood of my flesh
the flesh of my clan
anchored by niger
& her cyclic maidens
It felt so surreal to be in, someone else's skin
thats not my face or my hands, where do I begin?
To see through anothers eyes, thrilled me with wonder and surprise,
to feel features that were not my own,
so many differences, though we're all just skin and bone.
The altered sense of pleasure, the anguish in the moan,
the joy of vibrant company against, the solitary alone.
A different take on right and wrong, it now seems clearly spelt
what makes some people stand so strong, and what can make them melt.
To attain this, many have tried so long, while others prayed and knelt
Im so fed up with with my hand, I wish another could be dealt.
To walk literally in anothers shoes,
what to do? now that I am You
this day really is fresh and new,
awakened for the first time, to see the morning dew
my old life is dead, I am now reborn into you.
©John-Ovan.P.Hull
A bit arrogant & wired.
Awakening.
Stomach growling & coffee spasms.
I, finding a ravenous wolf in sheeps
Clothing,
Still trying to be
"Civilized".
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