Let the stars in the sky plummet
on their own
Let the flowers sway
The wind is just the wind
and nothing more
Let the angels sing their songs
and let the devils
shed their snakeskin
Let all the girls and boys
my age be happy
Let the sunshine sliver
across their skies
Let them walk into the sunset with love
ablaze in their eyes
And leave me free
to wonder why
I do not feel the same
Aug 11, 2020
Aug 11, 2020 at 4:06 AM UTC
Being young but unable to go out
Being able to go out but not feel young
The sky is nothing but a wide stare
into dry nothingness.
The drinks are a distant memory.
The moon smiles on the empty cities.
There's nobody to smile back.
The Monday mornings are not hated.
The Friday nights aren't to be thanked
in as much as opening
a canned sardine
with the edge of a dull knife.
Going to bed is not a rare occasion.
Staying in it is ubiquitous.
There's no race against a clock.
We're waiting to be freed
from our own homes.
As if the constant crowds
gave us joy in the first place.
Waiting...
to soar like a bird
and have the bliss
of a stained liver once again.
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 7:03 PM UTC
War stirs in the west.
The giants in the east
awaken from slumber,
ready to wager.
Up north and down south
the trees burn
as the households await death
to knock on their doors,
unable to breathe.
Speaking of death,
he has taken the icons
and left us with dictators
to further his bidding.
Money has fallen out of value,
with rather a hefty price
at the cost of human life.
Plagued with adversity,
food is short
and the days are long.
Humanity pays
for all its wrongs.
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 7:01 PM UTC
Perhaps the reason why
there are vices
is because people pay
hospital bills
on the heart, the lungs,
the liver, and the kidney
And people
are willing to pay
the price
to know
something
in them
is valued
Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 4:11 AM UTC
You are the woman
with the perplexing smile
The pearl earring
of the golden age
The starry sky
that offers asylum,
The clock that melts
time on tabletops,
The great wave that dissolves
froth and foam
The venus atop the shells
on the waters, and
The charismatic fire
even the seas thirst for
And I will be your artist;
the desires to sketch you
What desires to sketch you
Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 4:04 AM UTC
Because it's like
a lightning bolt
when you're in love
with two vivid streaks
in the form of the hands
of a clock
love also strikes
but never in the same
place for a second time
But when
you fall out of love
what could be worse
than the slow, unending rumble
of each tick of time?
what could be more redundant?
Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 3:50 AM UTC
When you're 21
and barely
employed
and wholly
depressed
people expect
you to pull
your ****
together
and handle it
well,
you ought to say
f*ck you
**** is nasty
and I expect
to flush mine
down
the toilet drain
Jan 28, 2020
Jan 28, 2020 at 5:41 AM UTC
Last night I went to Paris
with my first ever muse
and held her one hand
while we held the Triomphe
in the other
We basked in books
we bought in the rue de la Bûcherie
and gazed at herons in the Seine
We were two tired birds
that perched atop the Eiffel
one lazy night, ready for a kiss
That's when my eyes fluttered open
like the birds in Paris
Dec 4, 2019
Dec 4, 2019 at 11:30 AM UTC
people prize
the words
aristocrats toss,
not the effort
commoners
exhaust
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 12:34 PM UTC
I wanted to write a poem
because I wanted to test
the integrity of life
when life tests
the integrity of me,
indulge in decadence,
and create a travesty
out of society;
fall in love, like a skylark
does with his sesame seeds...
and it was not until after
I have written
did I realize
I have not written at all.
Sep 8, 2019
Sep 8, 2019 at 7:41 AM UTC