looking down from this height,
quite frankly i see it all in black and white,
looking up from this height,
its all just so uncanny,
now that does not make me any frail,
so i will just hold on and sail.
i will make sure to leave no trail,
while i go sauntering to the horizon's end,
in search not for love,
for that is what makes this vast unfathomable scary ocean,
in search not for dreams,
for that is but this voyage of mine,
in search not for a meaning,
for there need be none,
if there is, be it synonymous to uncertainty,
if all goes wrong, i will sing a song,
if all falls apart, i will still play my part,
the venture is savage, there will be rampage,
intrepid need you be,
insipid the journey will be.
promise me that you ll be there from the start to end,
and i will hold onto you to the end from the start,
when i say this, know for sure,
my words are your hearts anchor.
I write poems for the people to read
but none of them can get what I say.
They can see everything I'm going to speak
but all they can get is that I type in English.
Feelings, Emotions, Passion the words they can grasp,
but the concept they can't understand.
This is a little bit too difficult to read,
so much easier if I could let you hear.
Let the concepts flow and let the English pierce your ears.
With that I'll be able to start your heart;
it' ll go rappa tat tat rappa tat tat.
We''ll be able to pump up the beat,
You and I will understand me.
Intertwining thoughts and imagination
my words are hard to hold,
but my English is that more difficult.
Enjoy the crumbling ceiling of this cathedral,
because viewing works of art makes you feel better.
But you can never understand unless you were there,
being able to breathe the same air
and hear the same thoughts.
All the creatures in the garden were excited.
It was early spring and soon the skies would be dotted with the many colours of new buterflies.
Except, for Papilio who was pretty sad that spring was here already.
He was the youngest catterpilar, and loved to eat and laze around all day.
When his friends told him that he would turn into a butterfly soon, he just couldn't accept it.
He didn't want to become a butterfly.
"I'm not a butterfly" he said, " I'm just a caterpillar, I cant fly up there. This is what I am and I' ll stay this way!"
No matter how much his friends encouraged him, he wouldn't go into his cocoon,
because deep inside he was afraid that he would never be able to fly and become a butterfly.
Soon all his friend began to grow into beautiful butterflies.
Yet, Papilio wasn't lonely he had made friends with the lady bug and the snail. He felt this was his place.
One day he felt his skin shedding and he was becoming bigger.
His friends were shocked at how ugly he had become.
That was the last time he saw the lady bug and the snail, they had left him to be alone.
He was very sad, he went to his cocoon and stayed there for a long time, until he realised,
his body had changed. he came out of the cocoon and realized that he had grown beautifully patterned wings.
He realized that he had turned into a butterfly, he had always been one.
All he had to do was just be himself. Though, what he was was not always what he thought he was.
What is this dream planted and growing inside my mind, what is the treasure tomorrow that i 'll find- i'm on my way i don't know where, but somehow i' ll know when i get there. God has planted a dream and its growing strong as long as i follow Him i can never go wrong, i am on my way i don't know where ,but will be at peace when i get there. i am on my way.
you sit there
in the tree
always there for her
always by her side
as she starts shaking
hands cupped around her face
you feel your arms
as you try your best
her broken soul
she doesn't deserve this
maybe now she'll see
maybe now you'll get your chance
you quietly sit there
as she looks up
with teary eyes
and puffy cheeks
you look deep into her eyes
and see it all
she hasn't been crying
for lost love
she's been crying
she will never
Hey, it's okay.
Want to know why?
My feelings for you are gone.
I'll remember the times we
And I ll never forget them.
I'm just saying that it'll still
Be the same,
Just with less passion and
oli alolalia, alloilaalia llia
my voice complies to echo
distant emblems of a theory of all fate,
destined with a syntax of a mainly nonsense pedantry
..paling.. beside a string of random words--
whether nature's bare effect,
or some intentional array--
ailololalieae, aellolalia la aolilolalia, allollia allali lllla, alloalia alllaia, allolalia
--bearing ologies of whim and isms without ambit,
a farce within a sham in a sham in a sham
waiting there atop an abstract, ancient hill
gloriously stale, and always having been to be
what only poor Laplace could see.
the comely resignation siren sings,
her hair of timely strands agleam
and waving as she wails before a wall of necessary moans
aelloliaolia llali, alilaolaloiaa. Lllaa oali, aallolalia, lli ll ol, llolalia lllalia, aallaoloaloia
in dagger tongues of old and new, even divination ends--
anti-grammar soothsaid by the stars,
pointless thanks for all respite
and fortunes womb to womb
in tones of equal portions,
loving and malicious lies
invested blindly in a causalistic chain
compelling freely all to learn
another hyle verse refraining on,
"sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea."
allolalia of the soul, for certain.
of what is romanticized as soul. the Incy would know,
chosen in fantastic leaps a chorus strips
to vocal altivolant cries
rebounding buttress heights
with savored dionysian sin
the gods descended to revise--
listen, in abandon, an amatorculist's ictus speaks:
allolalia a allaia. Alloolalia allolalia alaloolaleioa
resounding deep beneath the waters, ecstatic envelope of tides
in which the stars reflect the spiral of my inner gaze
chiaster noemes tipping pleasure over domes,
verdant crotches rooted by ephemera of lights
and hazes floated over eyelash swoons
from piercings into satisfaction's desert end,
where sternums drip with scoured lusts
and wide-eyed recollections of the moment's selfhood sight
betray the freedom in the heart, and sacral pride.
prick imagined ease of future tropes
conjoined with inner plights to balance
what the furrowed brow concerns,
and widened visions offer further depths
to penetrate the interweavement of all times--
alone i'm here again, recognizant of wills
familiar as the flaming star i contour shadows from
to reminisce on mentor's sayings,
"exact description of inner and outer reality"
Alelaoolaliai alololialiia, aallolaleia
experiment of worlds, archer of the proper noun
allolalia... beloved allolalia...
n. - form of aphasia in which words are spoken at random.
or Any speech defect, esp. one caused by a cerebral disorder.
word mutations are taken from http://wordster.onvyder.com/wiki/allolalia.html
Over there! In the shadows!
What if you really asked
What you want ?
What would happen if you did ?
Guess it would matter
Who you asked!!
Who are we talking to ?
AND WHAT WILL YOU GIVE ME FOR WHAT YOU WANT ?
WILL YOU GIVE THE SAME TO ME ?
I must be
You can trust
If you love me
You'll be saved
It is always the same play
TAKE WHAT YOU CAN---
----and then another day
And once again we' ll all be here
Little Brother is lost
Got lost riding the subway train
We live in Brooklyn
Brooklyn' ll never be a home anymore
Brooklyn's a place now like any where at all's a place
Like prison's a place or like school
Just went off one day and never come back
Nobody saw a thing
Nobody said a word
Nobody knowin just what it means
Some say he was "disappeared" by the police
Some say it happens every day
How would I know I'm just a kid
Whatever happened I guess it did
He just never come home is all
Now Brooklyn ain't a home no more
I'm just here on my own
It don't feel good I can tell ya that
Soon I'm leavin too
And ain't comin back
Wonder what they'll think a that
Wonder what they'll think a that
Nobody come when I call
Was my only friend
But as we struggled to find
The top a the mountain
We discovered there were lots a mountains
We separated and grew weak
And we seen
the monstrousness of the enemy
And many of us became afraid
Ain't nobody l know
Now for one more walk thru the mystic evening rain
One more gaze
Into the pure heart always forgiving
Into the child's eye and the saint's
And if I ever sound despairing
It's cause I am but it's only temporary
For I know that you will appear
YOU ALWAYS DO----EVENTUALLY
And if it seems
Nobody comes when I am calling
I' ll rest awhile
And keep on calling
Until my LIFE IS DONE
And if somehow I am not with you
At least I did what I had to do