Despite all my rage
I am still just four minutes
of silence
                          —John Cage

A dreamer dreams,
A man sees.
But the dreamer was never a man,
The dreamer is the greatest voice of all mind.

A dreamer dreams,
A  man sees.
But the dreamer was never man.

Now the world has become so dull.
The dreamer is lost in a sight of darkness,
The dreamer is lost in a night of a thousand storms.

Dreamer,
Were you ever a man?

The echo of footsteps in a concrete tunnel.
At the end there’s a yellow light.
Flies swarming to the yellow light, bright.

But in here it’s dark, dark and humid.
The humidity of her breath forming clouds over her head.
In the end of the tunnel you can see the clouds with your eyes but in here all she can see are eyes.
Eyes watching, she’s watching them.

In the end of the tunnel there’s only a smile.
A smile piercing and cutting.
There are others there but they are blind.
Blinded zombies staring at the concrete wall.

They’re alone in the crowd, her and the smile.
She turns back through the concrete tunnel.

A conflation of
Hues filled with lush mystery
Unmatched artistry.

The wild side of living life
Is that nothing can be tamed;
Everything is changing,
Nothing stays the same.

But with new wind
comes inspiration,
And even though
There's consternation,

You can always count
On life to sway-
And throw each line
Of the rule book away.

Words die little deaths,
Hopeful kamikaze runs,
Endings on windscreens.

All I have left behind is dissolving into the past
crumbling most of it
but it was necessary
for it prepared me for the now

to embrace you
to embrace whatever form you take
whatever song your life sings
whatever mood swings into gear within you

No matter the norms, the age gap, the multiple reasons someone might wave their finger at me or frown at my direction while thinking I’m out of mind

If you are a go, then baby I am a go
...ready as could be

The sand shifts beneath your feet,
Your heart relaxes to a quiet beat,
The waters seem to breathe day and night,
Close your eyes take it in do not fight,
The wind satisfies your soul,
Just relax now you've played your role,
Touch the sand now scoop it up,
Hold it in your hands and form a cup,
Now let it seep through towards the sandy ground,
Your soul was lost but now its found,
The weather you desire will come your way,
Just stand closer to the bay,
Soon life will be eternal for you and me,
Look beyond the ocean and tell me what you see.
                          -open heart poetry

I wish I only existed within the pages of a book
I wish I was as quiet as a whisper
Just barely there, barely heard
Like a sweet lullaby
I want to exist for a quick flash
In a dream that feels like thread unraveling
Ready to be broken away and gone within a second
But it was still there
Just for that
And that’s all I’d ever need
I’m already living it

I'm not happier,
but it's over,
I'm not happier,
I am colder,
There's a feeling I am missing,
it's not the cuddling or the kissing,
it's not the fighting or dissing.
it's not the endless, hopeful wishing.
I have a certain intuition.
I want your loving recognition,
of my never-ending mission.
You're part of me and that won't alter,
With you here, I will not falter.
Not in my arms, but in my life,
My best friend, not my wife,
I need you now, more than ever.
I'll not give up. Never. Never...
You're not mine,
I understand,
If you find another man.
I'm not happier,
but it's over.
Maybe I'll find a four-leafed clover...

glitches, stitches ,misunderstandings
this is where we meet
unforgiven, unforgiving,
forgiven and set free
small inconveniences, physical hurts
emotional upsets
a helping hand, clenched fist
arms open wide.

I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night

Waves
swing your
wings in the rhymes
of a longing song.

Water’s mirror
splashes you with
silvery kisses
when your wings
become
vessel in the wind.

A depression had me gloom
from the loss I presume
an exhaust would resume
until I saw you bloom

I almost died in a car accident,
I saw the Angel of Death take my
husband with him,
I desired to leave the world too
with my beloved .
The conductor refused me to board the bus,
Saying my name was not on the list for almost twenty years to come.
So here I am writing poetry on HP.
23/9/2020

Not everything needs a poem
Sometimes
it’s already

good enough.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

Your eyes have hands –
I bet you didn’t know.
They touch, more than fingers
and hold, more than arms.
They hurt, more than fists
when you simply look away.

i couldn't tell you where
but she was surfing on her own
salty water in her hair
and a ribcage full of stone

He asked me- "Why are you still a ******?
I smiled and said- "I'm good at DIY"
.
..
...

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

Run from your self
Self served

Run from your enemy
Enemy exhausted

Run to Self Love
Win

It's such a overused word.