I wonder how it'll go
or, who'll write it ,
I don't know
But I want you to be there,
when they bury me in the cold ground,
Alone and forsaken
Aloof from your world
A world I could never be a part of
A world parallel to mine
And so I would want you there,
for one last time
but not with your family or wife
Just the two of us ..like old times
"Just the two of us"man , how come you made a corpse cry?
And I don't know about afterlife
as this is the first time I'll die
pardon my illogical line ,
I did it for a smile
I wish we could die together ,
and have you there by my side
and go through eternity side by side
or be born again ..and be able to make you mine this time
but for now, this world needs your pure soul , and warm smile
so just promise me this ..you won't abandon my grave? (like you abandoned my life)
and visit me ,at least once or twice..or maybe not as you've your own life
(and a family and a wife)
but if you do visit , i hope my epitaph makes you smile
as it'll go like this
here lies the girl who never moved on like you did"
Blank thoughts encumbered in darkness
the allure of prismed light
flashes before my eyes.
Gems and pearls
fall from the clouds
while the sunset
still remains at midnight
courts pure hope, chasing both
up puzzling flights of stairs
jaded pages, and crystallized doors
tempting, desires whisper
to the angels of hell
I turn left
weighing harmony and hell
just as sweet
honey drizzled hummingbirds
zipping around a live wire.
I'm not ashamed to say
my boobs look impeccable.
and that makes me beam
in every possible way.
we're rounding a long winter,
and it's cloudy outside.
I'm smart enough to know
that most days—
you have to make
your own god damned sunshine.
My father told me that everyone lives by their own codes of living
that's when i decided to sail through unstable emotions
to find out that love is just another feeling
Andrew was a regular guy, then he decided to become a magician
that's when he realized, there are some things that can't be fixed
life's lies can be worst than a politician
The days are short and the years come crawling
what am i gonna do with the half of my soul?
the poets told me: "share it with someone"
i'd rather exchange it for a small amount of gold
In the winter, alone in the fireplace, you may cry for help
but what must be remembered is that your mood changes with the moon
and sadly, people are not vulnerable to spells
If i keep chasing my own tail
i won't find you, you won't change me
warm me up with a sweet cup of coffee
we were taught to laugh about our own misery
Looks like green blood
You're new here
Let me see your face
"ahhh write poetry do you?
Haha or it writes you, hehe!"
Come closer to the fire son
Warm your hands and wipe that fear off your face
I don't bite
Just show me your neck
Green blood is all I seek
In the heat of the night you look so predatory.
Before you, life had gotten so boring.
But inside my head is a clear warning.
You've got to start on the ground if you wanna start soaring.
I know I've said it before and it's the same old story.
Being clearly unsure is clearly the sure thing.
And now my throat is too sore to even try to sing.
When you come back to me, I think of the gift that you'll bring.
Your undying love never fails to tug on my heart-string.
See, I've still got to learn the meaning of a fling.
Among a tall list of you related things.
What is more important? Today or the dream that awaits tomorrow?
The deforested; burnt and brittle and all gone aery
Who is more important? The empiricist or poet? Engineer or Sophist?
History recalls the fortuitous and fruitful mind
Have you found a resolution? Or are you destitution incarnate?
Too late for the body, but never for the soul
Which lamented downtrodden path do you follow?
The path paved with gold and epistemological riches
Or atone to the pith of a life in poverty?
Incessant nightmares of the daily worried abyss
What is more important? Me or you?
The view is beautiful on this night of starless and bible black
The night; eternal and sleepless epitaph
For the 21st century schizoid man,
Waiting man, Man with an Open Heart, Model Man
Indiscipline and Satori
On the wheels of an autograph and a welcoming peach tree
To 'Catch Bull at Four'
In the Court of the Crimson King
Matte Kudasai my sweet America
My adorned aphrodisiac, Columbia
Old Father Thames wrapped in the Union Jack
Aboard a white star liner forever on the stagnant sea
And with her comes the warm embrace of peace
Under her breast, an Armada of war ships and a fleet of Avro Lancasters
Aristophanes; he speaks like a Churchill smoking Winston Cigarettes
Above Mt. Olympus, flying high above the mythic Prometheus
Enabled machines of fury on wings by beings of glory
And so the story writhes in the wrinkled veins of history
Slowly buried, the worker stoic on white cotton
Is slowly forgotten
This is an ode to the workers in song
To the soldiers in line and the children still-born
This is the same old adage, motif in the narrative, warm and composed
Dedicated to who by fire, who by depleted uranium
And who by desire
Prometheus is dead
But, the vestal flame can not be ousted
The factories run all night in an electric light liturgy
For the planet
This is for Mother Gaia
And us all
Still in the dark with our broken lantern