A touch of your palm make me warm
Giving me the best solace,
A kiss of your lip keep me In form
Glueing me to your face.
I cannot but think of thee
For the great moment we shared
Is forever recurring to me
Like an image that cannot be impaired.
The true definition of love is you
None other can be as equal.
I had tested and found you true
And for this I made this call.
My love ,thou art sweet
I yearn that we should meet.
I hate my stupid self for still having hope
I hate myself for not yet tying the rope
I hate myself for still trying to cope
I hate myself for not moving on
I hate myself for still being a pawn
I hate myself for being hopeful of dawn
I hate myself for not sealing the cut
I hate myself for not glueing my heart shut
I hate myself for not trusting my gut
I hate myself for always being wrong
I hate myself for still waiting so long
I hate myself for never being strong
I hate myself for never being enough to satisfy
I hate myself for believing that I could still fly
I hate myself for still not wanting to cry
I hate myself for never letting go
I hate myself for not allowing me to grow
I hate myself for not rising from below
I hate myself for still being in pain
I hate myself for throwing my efforts in vain
I hate myself for not being sane
Dazzling spikes elude my confusion as I ponder on the starvation in my essence.
I'll miss you, but glueing to fragments of a pane would drive me to an oasis of oblivion.
Validating on every issue and the insane times, thoughts slipped that I could fix it.
Optimism valiantly caged me in circles, I hope the talks with my little saplings endure.
Renewable freedom not vows, let's dance to this final song of rhythms in happiness as I
Channel my future to a bouquet of blessings for regrets only dig up the scars.
Every step from here leads to healing and warmth of love to my forever butterflies.
Shards of glass all around
Broken gems, sharp and profound
Picked, glued and retained
Artwork, colourful and framed
Life is a mosaic of broken glass
Memories retained, glued, amassed
Your gems are unique, profound and glued
Colourful, beautiful and viewed
Mosaics will look different each day
Sometimes bright, sometimes grey
Life is about glueing your broken gems
A journey of applying colour your way
Eric
Universally glueing
Black holes traversing
In neural networking
Transmitting thoughts
Swirling around galaxies
Inside the mind
Keeping time
Firing neurons
Within space and time
Birth of thoughts
Planets spinning
With moons rising
Seasons of cycling
Gravity spinning
In seeds of cohesion
Birthing galaxies
Fibers suspending
Hijacking reality
Questioning our being
Is space really freeing
Or is our timing
just alluding in recycling
the macrocosm of reflecting
Our mortality rating
Dedicated to my son Brandon. The environmental engineer.
Innovative and creative soul.
ALAN Walker Sing Me to Sleep song
You don’t see the defects,
You only see the muscle,
And when he is accused,
You cause a kerfuffle.
Adjacent to beauty, truth,
That youth so lively and vital,
Vibrant with colour spread,
He speaks with his amble.
Two sociology’s merge,
Into one lovely scene,
And technology assists,
With where you’ve been.
Having only conversation,
Through looks and kindness,
Facilitated by still silence,
Interspersing strong keenness.
Bed lying open to anyone,
Enclosing only the two of you,
Glueing that modish freshness,
That expects to act and do.
the kids are acting funny, honey.
they like to play out in the fields.
they don’t care about our money
or how much our company yields.
they want to see the flowers bloom
under cotton candy skies.
they don’t see how adulthood looms
past their milkshake soaked french fries.
the kids are acting silly, billy.
glueing their fingers together.
too preoccupied plotting wet willies
to be thinking about forever.
they haven’t a clue about the economy,
they are too busy playing house.
how do they understand monogamy
when they don’t really love their spouse?
yes, the kids are quite crazy, miss daisy.
i hear them singing about posies and falling.
they prefer earth when the air gets hazy.
they are angels listening for heaven’s calling.
when the night blankets the ground
the kids strike matches on rocks.
the spark it makes is their favorite sound
and they put out the flame with their socks.
Resonance pools plentiful
As birds and squirrels
Chirp beyond garden bastion
A man in his house
Hermit crab's through life events
A bigger driveway!
Spared no expense!
And gushing parenthood
To provide with cherished glee
Never forget
The illusion of drawing boundaries
So we instruments
Imagine our own song
Glueing to destiny
There are dreams, thoughts, then, reality.
There are strangers, friends, then there is you.
These ethereal feelings. I wallow in sadness as I try to draw them in.
I'll never see light, I'll never see love in this life.
I'll one day shake hands with these fantastical emotions but I couldn't do it alone.
Glueing bonds. It's all well beyond its worth.
It's a match made in heaven, it's a bow tied tight.
It's a simple embrace that blossoms into a luminous flower.
It's the knowledge that your never alone. The sight of love every day.
For me, a mere fantasy.
The sand on the beaches are shining
Red and yellow, in the shadows
Of the trees it is cool and you will not
Get sunburnt. But the soul is burning,
And the air is so thick, it is like breathing in
tar, you are constantly talking
In a whisper.
The mind, although awake, is very black
And dark;
One could not see one's way around.
And since it is this way
In my world,
I am constantly picking pieces of me
Off the floor, and glueing them
Back together in my spare time.