the truth is a drunk in the corner
nobody wants to look at
because he’s missing teeth
and smells like the gutter.
people like their stories neat—
swept floors, white smiles,
the lie folded in like sugar in coffee.
you tell them the world is falling apart
and they’ll laugh
until the ceiling drops on their heads.
the unknown sits outside the door
in the rain,
smoking a bent cigarette.
most folks would rather
pretend they never heard the knock.
In the mystery of the unknown, where thoughts flow like a river,
my being seeks innocence, unknown even to myself,
I am free, at last, to be silent, to bathe
in the quiet of your promise of promises,
like the pear tree in the garden, which feels beauty,
but never asks why such splendor is here.
On monsoon days, full of rain and longing,
locked within, yearning to explore the seas and the galaxy,
the tree beseeches the rain with a silent plea,
not to be judged by your deep gaze,
like a solitary companion who remembers,
my name scratched on the asylum walls,
as I was letting go of ideals,
I saw in the forest the tumult of life,
the remorse of a nymph who was once a virgin,
the stars were there, but of accidental origin.
In cosmic solitude, we seek unseen connections,
the universe calls us through symbols and dreams,
we dance among shadows and lights, seeking meaning,
in the chaos of existence, we lose and find ourselves.
We repeat, like a ritual, the words that become incantation,
archetypal images embrace the soul,
in a hypnotic musicality, we immerse ourselves,
transforming as the poem carries us
into the depths of being, where we find peace and truth.
I was well known
When I was alone
What was the necessity for you to come into my life?
To mess things up with no sign of strife?
You were the sweet dream that made me sleep a little longer
You have become my nightmares that made me a sleepwalker
My happy world is broken into bits and pieces
Am I able to find the crumbled slices?
What were you thinking when you made all the promises?
Didn't you realise there will be so many obstacles?
You are ready to hop on new relationship
That makes me think was I the only one who was sailing on this seaship?
You left for happiness
Why am I sinking in sadness?
My mind is still testing my capacity
I'm trying my best to touch harsh reality
I walked into a room and did not know it well
yet, feel I should, for I have been there many times,
not a liminal space, though sometimes this is so.
But this time, oddly, somewhere I should know and be.
Should I recognize those strange eyes that gape at us?
Some duty that I should as duty stares at me.
Yet I know them not, nor the paintings in the hall.
The not familiar couch where lovers once had lain,
its crimson redness gash against the dreary walls.
Was this with you, or in some other life I had?
Are you even here or I? Truth, I do not know.
I use to fear the unknown
I use to stay in my comfort zone
Right now I’m loving the unknown
I don’t know where life is taking me
I can’t say I know exactly how everything will go
I don’t fear it anymore
I embrace it
I’m excited for what’s to come
I’m for certain that bigger and better things are coming
Life is a dream
I love being on my toes
Let’s see where this goes
Life is beautiful when you take away the people who don’t deserve to be in your life
I’m loving the unknown and excited to see how everything unfolds
~ akin to dangling precariously on the edge of mystery. ~
People say we should face our fears,
but how do I face mine
when the path leads only forward,
never back?
That wild journey called death—
a story with no storyteller,
a door with no return.
Is there light beyond,
or only endless dark?
With each passing day,
with every fleeting celebration,
I hear time whispering, ticking,
pressing against my skin.
Will I forget it all,
or will my memories follow me,
flickering like dying embers?
What do I do with this feeling—
this restless fear,
this quiet terror,
this ache of uncertainty?
I think I hate this most:
not the fear itself,
but the weight of having no choice.
Yet, if I could choose…
Would I cling to forever,
or let go of a world that never stops hurting?
They fear to be alone
I am the unknown,
unknowingly fearing the
unknown for i am thee,
I've come afar to plant
a seed in thee.
Come forth as the rapture
has begun, for the battle
has yet to be won. I pray
amongst the weak to parish
in their sins. I pray the strong
will bury beneath me and not
win.
They fear the unknown,
I swim in fear towards
something I don't know.
The old year fades, its echoes drifting light,
A newborn spark ignites the midnight sky.
We laugh, we drink, we dance into the night,
A fleeting wish, a dream that longs to fly.
Resolutions sworn in candle’s sight,
Yet whispered vows may fade as days go by.
But in this hour, with hope and love we glow,
The past behind, the future yet to show.
The unknown cave within,
Built by don't know what
From it emerge tendencies,
Seemingly out of control
Made up mostly by influences,
And the sensitivity of brain.
Fear is one of them
Such a slavery it is,
What am I to do?
How do I break free?
Either repeat the blows,
But there is no end!
A single path nobody shows,
And I am left to comprehend.
-17-02-2025
THE UNKNOWN MARTYR
Though short life he lives
A lot of blood he takes a lot of comfort he gives
A sheet of pure white
Shine between legs day and night
Hug him between warm thighs
To make you happy and feel nice
Soft and smooth he is
Discomfort and tension he ease
Though for long he can’t stay
Another one will be for another day
And the old is always thrown
With no appreciation shown
And if ever mentioned it is distasteful
But that is the way, for women are ungrateful
To the hidden treasure
The source for feminine pleasure
The name is Kotex
The unknown martyr for softer sex
Thursday 17/2/2000
10:08pm
Tomb of the Unknown
Twenty-one steps south down the black mat
Turns and faces east toward the tomb for twenty-one seconds
Turns and faces north, changes gun to outside shoulder and waits twenty-one seconds
Marches twenty-one steps up the mat
Turns and faces east for twenty-one seconds
Turns and faces south, changes gun to outside shoulder and waits twenty-one seconds
Twenty-one steps south down the black mat
The cycle is repeated
Three hundred and sixty-five days a year
Twenty-four hours a day
White gloved hands snap through the shoulder arms
Sharp green uniforms show no rank
Dark sunglasses hide the solemn stare of the guard
Select members of The Old Breed maintain vigilance
Over the marble tomb
The crowd must be silent
All must show respect
To those who are unknown
To the faceless and nameless
Who sacrifice all
Was not born to grow old,
His days were numbered long ago.
Would not find pots of gold,
His dreams drifted to and fro.
Mornings will come with rain
Throughout the passing of time;
Walking in constant pain
Though he will pay it no mind.
Pines not for battles fought,
Sings not the tunes he'd compose;
Yet there's names ne'er forgot,
Buried in Arlington's rows.
For all those he has known
His sorrow's hard to contain,
And for days all alone
Somehow feels he is to blame.
Through the sleet, snow and shine
Nothing will stand in the way;
Twenty one steps in time,
A never changing display.
Over the years it's the same,
Only one can sense the gloom
Of the man with no name
Who rests in that famous tomb.
I have been a cartoonist all of my life
drawing is what kept me in school
I could do my school work then draw the rest of the day
There was a lot of extra time back then
we finger-painted in kindergarten
I loved that!
the only paints we had at home was the metallic sliver
that held hard paints and one paint brush
you had to add water to each color
these were not vivid paints
I did not know I was an artist
until fifty years after I left home
I am so glad that I figured it out
because I love painting even more than cartooning.
A crack in the pavement
Does it portend
a death in the family
an untimely end
Is it an opening
for widow’s weeds
or just a spittoon
for sunflower seeds
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