I was there floating, collapsing in every direction.
Couldn't gather my barning's. I was a compass lost
                    in the waves of eternities disorientation.

I saw her burn, a billion souls screaming in devouring
regrets that spread like a silent blanket.
Smoothing, asphyxiating every blossom, there life
                            expelled to the wind of  meaningless
teardrops that drenched every corner of this apple.

Now glazed in a hue of ill tasting caramel dust..
      We looked down in disturbance.
But a friend who i'd called a friend, mate.

                Looked at us all, a compass of many
lands who worked together for a better after.
This wasn't a time, a tomorrow. to them it was
Already a shockwave of repercussions..

     This egg shell, cracked silently..
In in this vacuum nothing is collected only vacated
at a velocity of collapsed colours petrified.

I was the last human, in the universe that never heard
        a light blown out by the wind of a billion suns..

We were bright for a moment,
            but we faded just as fast.
           My windshield was cracked,
and my oxygen was leaking like
                    flat tire.

Looking down I pondered if we survived
                 our stupidity...

And just like that, I was in a head on with
                 reality and space...
        My windshield was gone,

I was on the bonnet of purgatory..

Oh heavenly Bible,
he stood there holding you
A fibber, a republican, the people choice
So many times I saw him at the podium
Jeering and coming up against the people of God.
Yet, not a bible near by>>

A hope of promise to his followers
A curse to the dark, yellow and brown foreigners:
He often said that he inherited a mess
So were my father exact words
After he brought a second hand old Wolsey car
Back in 1967: he too inherited a mess

Now the crime in the land is uprising
More regrets than before: is servicing
More bombing than the Vietnam War

How shallow can one be?
How detached is he from his constituency:
The fear of the ego, and the power of the spirit
A poet ponders, about his next tweet or text

Such men behind the wheels:
means a nation will suffer,
God children pray
for justice and for peace.

They wealth kept on
growing from the backs of slaves
That is why we grieve?
Each and every day

An apple tree without fruits,
Cows without milk,
chicken without eggs
A well without water, those little things
we took for granted, is like a nation without
Patience, kindness and loyalty

Proverbs 28:11
The rich man is wise in his own eyes,
But the poor who has understanding searches him out;
!

The suicide note was blank,
            I hadn't thought up
a good enough excuse yet

   for why they killed themselves.

This one was a tough one,
  as my hands aren't as strong as
the used to be, took ages to suffocate...

But as I hung them up like a piñata,
  covering the ligature marks smoothly.
I pushed them to get a rhythm  of what
               to write..

I was tired, uninspired...
I'm getting to old
               for this manual labour,
time to retire and write love stories...



"To whom it may concern,

                         "tested gravity..

"I got a D- oh well....

There is a dream called Love.)

There is a dream call loved
There is hope and there is despair
Within all these that is said

These people honor me with their lips,
but their hearts are far from Me.
They worship me in vain;
they teach as doctrine the precepts of men.’
Another wonder scripture Quote

There is a dream call loved,
As human being some of us long for it
Some endure the worst for it
Just to hear someone say
“I love you. An antidote:
Love is the Antidote to Criticism and Judgment
Love is a weapon to hurt the one we love

You always hurt the one you love, the one you should not hurt at all;
You always take the sweetest rose, and crush it till the petals fall;
You always break the kindest heart, with a hasty word you can't recall;
So if I broke your heart last night, it's because I love you most of all." —Mills Brothers
?�J ?

i decided  that love meant nothing to me
did my research, had my share of rejection
took the wrong path, almost

Allowed Satanism to enter my life:
it felt like i was seeking,  seeking, seeking
but i always whispered  ,
my God is real, my God is real
he is real in my heart, 
 I felt the pinch of a pin,
my knees buckle under, and i kept on saying
what the ****,  what was i doing ,
my God is real
how did i end up in a place, like that :

as i  reflected, i came to this conclusion that it was for love
love for us, love for the family, love for the union.
But, surely it wasn’t,
I  never truly experience love,
Or toe curling ******:  only burning pain,
I decided that love meant nothing to me,

Did my research, had my share of rejection,
Took the wrong path,
almost sign into the Satanism camp
Seeking, looking for something, lost love,
Many winters, spring,
summer fall and back to autumn
Still no peace within,
love meant nothing to me

It was hope that lifts me up;
I had asked  God  for only one thing
And that was to dry my tears, and lesson my fears,
Somedays, i felt like screaming, when loneliness
Tries to get me down:  
then i remember that love means
Nothing to me…..



,

on the chance
I took my thumb and gouged
whichever eye was open
far enough to see death

undone
like the wide right eye of memphis,
weeping gasoline on the gashed grounds below

obitus, obitus

uncorked, I'll spill over
do they or do they not deserve it
for leaving me ajar?

they'll lie
and they'll take it to the grave
and their headstones will call me out by name

obscure, obfuscate

that last rattle of life from their lungs
push up from under their daisies
determine me buried

obitus, obitus

the overture,
the onus

just for chance
I'll open it once more
for the dance halogen gives behind me
for the bark of tread on ballast

one eye, one good one
to discern the cause of death

Though we wish,
             can we ever find our
                    prince charming..


A shoe may fit, but is it comfortable.


And our happy ever after is but a moment,
         of chemical imbalances before we realise.
  

That we should have smashed
                                  the happy ever after.  
As glass always cuts deep
                                   it only takes time.

Blended with the womb of obscurity,
              barbed voices silently whisper
behind hairs crawling slowly upwards.

Never realising that the contour of your
           silhouette wasn't yours after your
                        corner step, wavering slightly.

It now lays limp, discarded like soiled rags.
                  That which beckons beneath you,
            staring focused on your every breath.

And with but a fluttering of exhalation a light
                         stutters and you fall into a pool
                                           of hollow nothingness.

A stain outlines your last breath,
                    you where already drowning.
                   Not realising you where already dead.