Dark, less-light, on warm-pale blue canvas
Bare firmly into the deepest aperture of gaze
Purely immersed -- strange and impatient
In certain I questioned
Is it real what I'm seeing or
Am I even sleeping?
Through prosperity it exists
It bounced with no ground below it
And it collapsed with no peak above it
At times it hits like a kiss
Once in a while it came like a twinge
It is so lovely yet sometimes so weary
As bliss and joy it brings, it gets ignored and undoubted.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
On the loneliest rail and road
Is where I could see the foggy mountains
As on the trip I stare at the most smoky sky
Is where I could feel my mind at peace and calm
Of questions and imaginations.
On the widest field of grass, being greenish I layover
Is where I could see a figure of your perfect look
As the stars beaming down and as the moon illuminating away
Is when I feel like my heart beats a pound and my chest pumped a gun
Of butterflies and flowers.
And in the deepest hole of heart
Is where you unfold your love and passion
As you're lying down unfurl your affection and addiction
Here I'm sitting, giving, sharing, and holding
On hopes and an unstoppable benediction.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 4:35 PM UTC
It was dark, deep and wise
A pond of thoughts poured with pain
A man, who tried to walk out of a landscape of disguise
There was a note
Left unexplained, messy and wrinkled
That desires smile, talk and action
But the pencil is broken
Into a piece of selfishness
Cracked, burned and unwritten
Somehow he knocked
Somehow there's answer
Somehow there's none
It was filthy, beautiful or even cruel
Lost in a snap of fingers
In between imagination and existence
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
*One naive piece
Of fragile and butterflies
Wasted upon willingly*
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 8:42 AM UTC
How can we stand
Upon a regulation of fraud
Under the humbug that they've brought?
How can we uphold
Upon a tree of partisan
Onto the product of corruption?
How can you be sure
Upon a protest of desolation
Won't exist at the end of endurance?
How can you be sure
Upon a traitorous of dissatisfied
Won't happen underneath the self-evident of consumption?
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
I'll walk
Off track of burn
Instead of bursting it
Into a million tears of broken
I'd lay
On a plain lane
Instead of watching it
Through the deepest aperture of pain
I'll live
In life of freedom
Instead of taking it
As only word and wisdom
I'd rather die
On poor land of dignity
Instead of believe and hoping
To be buried in rich soil of stupidity
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 8:19 PM UTC