DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, in different shades...

Life
an acquaintance
since January
sought me in its life
for the temporary

Diluted from the lover trance
in its shade I bathe
in happenstance
I pass it
to fade
in a feverish crowd
like a breeze of ghostly remembrance
dumped by the hustle
by all these sounds

We meet silently
dividedly
appointed to exile
sometimes we regret
the rivalry in piles
of overlaid cement
with a nonchalant style

It seems so
when our tired shadows
glimpse at each other's forms
then resume to go

Blocking the inseparable
what a theatrical element
clueless detriment
clueless sentiments
to the flow
not to a ruler's measure
or an on-guard show
------------------------
I guess we've always known


                                                         ­                                   ------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, freezed not a word:>
_four year old poem alert

can I leave
although my returns can’t handle mistreat
choking on the shields that they reveal

the stack is packed
the thoughts are hacked
and my acceptance to the fate is verging on stance

do I sore free for the sake of my flee
and redeem the escape
of the torturous bleach under my feet
or do I abandon my daemons of feels
and scratch a sinful crime of a resentful scheme

the ties are secured
and the doors are uptorn
my legs give up to the shore
and I stand up to no more

the search is at stake
and time flicks with no shame
but the place is not here to be faced

the venture is trapped
in a venging mishap
the yellow is freezed to an uptown
and everything becomes diseased to drown

the green uptakes
and the lakes create
an explode of scents
in the middle of no ends
in the ashes of the questionable whens

                                                          ­                                  ------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, sinking I sink---

the truth is, you're my safe street
lulling me every night to sleep
I whisper to you religiously like a creep
but I'm falling down, down, down, from the steep

the pearl there on my neck
heavy, still I won't let
hiding it, from the moment I've bet
holding it in a net

that you, and only you I'd let
to not be a reality that I'd wipe out nor forget
shipwrecked in dirt
do I regret?
been waiting for a dawn, some sun has set......

through the manhole, hear me mutter
sinking I sink
retrieving the ink
on you spent not some other
in my drenched sweater I stutter
shut me out, shut me up, close the **** shutters

out of this street, some sidewalk to a lover
now the ink is splashing in water-no-color
bother me, I'm not one to bother
set me free, surely I'd come to recover

                                                        ­                                    ------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, not what you think....

knew the dark before
never knew how dark it would get
the watch of every window
getting closed on itself, or so they let
in the corner watched
feet hitting the ground, like some time is set
only few let the ground
not swallow their view of palm, let it not regret
can't get the night out of this
nor can the night take this back, not in bet
not in hack
the connectedness relates to its memory
and the memory of connection won't forget
it's packed
the street knows the corner heavily
yellow to its eyes, present of the verb met
for a self-meeting with the color of teal
to be lent
does one know how to cry?
from a different angle, from a perspective sent
secrets play the end
silence seated on a bench, funding its debt
and then, you realize
what you know is the threat
to know the dark in core
to know how dark it would get

                                                            ­                                 ------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, 16-X-'23 : 6.52 : if prevailness is a word>

I like the cold
It reminds me of myself
Of the real
The sun is a delusion
To our goodness
Its shines in sake
Yet
Then
There comes a time
Where I've realized its coldness
The cold
Diminishes from the idleness of life
Life itself
It discloses its true value
Its diligent matter of cyclic deviation
Its formation of natural consequence
By default of reality
Its season of fault
To the guilt of less effort
Or so you think
The Mother is not there to just be there
Nor does it splash its heavy loading
Some container of water in excess
It's a thing of conscience thought
A concern in its being
A prevailness in its giving
Upon a hope
An aspiration
Of it not going in vain
I understand the diligence
Yet
I don't understand
I can't comprehend the likeness of the sun
Nor its goodness
Does it have to be the one
Who does the giving?
......................................

                 ­                                                                 ­           ------ravenfeels