Love is more
than taking her once a week in your freshly cleaned car
to a hotel and on a shopping spree
without knowing what her thoughts and dreams might be
without listening to her level of frequency
Can you tell me
What is intimacy?
While you take a trip to the center of your mind
trying to redefine what you really want in life
Is it money, fame or neither?
Maybe now you really need her
To hold you tight and cook you dinner
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 7:31 AM UTC
They talking but I never betray
They hustling but at home I stay
They calling for me, can't say I ain't afraid
Tears, blood, and diamonds, slay
Don't slay the queen
Love her in her castle by the bay
Summer never end, only I'll run away
Summer never end, pick me up just ride my way
Ride the wave, ride the snake
Yes, I hear them calling every day
Every day but I am ashamed of their game
Palm trees, bling bling, and lychees
Sunset never end on these two wheels
Keep track of em greens
Cause I can't count my feels
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 7:06 PM UTC
This duty of Doing
Of occupying
Of deciding
Of settling
Slow down
Even if I did not move a finger today - this day
My entire self travelled in immense speed to reach out wherever it wanted
My muses told me to invite you over
Whenever you are done - moving your fingers
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 9:34 AM UTC
Friday foggy night and I was wondering, just wondering
As I noticed how silent the city is that I once used to live in
How silent I was not anymore
This is not the place to be, I thought
As it only wanted me to lay my head on its shoulder
How loud I had become
The city I grew up in
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 5:05 PM UTC
A thought on which tone my coffee would have this morning.
Or who on the street would have my whole attention – think about the stranger before I fall asleep and get revealed to what myself does when the shell does not count.
A thought on the distance to the eyes I sit under. I would like to love you running out of all options. The cry over the city surrounding the crowd, come home in the early hours painted on clocks.
A thought on the need of all the driving around and the sun melting my face. Figures that open and close their mouths – I am listening by looking.
The Later is the Now and there is no exit.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC
Awake, awake my little Boy!
Thou wast thy Mother’s only joy:
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy Father does thee keep.
“O, what land is the Land of Dreams?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O Father, I saw my Mother there,
Among the lillies by waters fair.
Among the lambs clothed in white
She walked with her Thomas in sweet delight.
I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn—
O when shall I return again?”
Dear child, I also by pleasant streams
Have wandered all night in the Land of Dreams;
But though calm and warm the waters wide,
I could not get to the other side.
“Father, O Father, what do we here,
In this land of unbelief and fear?
The Land of Dreams is better far
Above the light of the Morning Star.”
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 8:47 AM UTC
I challenge you
To speak as you were writing your last poetry
As you are the street light at night
As you are the reflection on a gloomy wall
As you are the smoke scratching a throat
You are talking to your muse
As you are only your hands shaking it out
Without the perception of self
Talking to your secret fear
The voices will finally sing
That is the world I want to live in
Talking to the muse
An eternity long
Talking to your muse
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
If it wasn't for the words that build up my poetry
My mouth
I'd cut it off with my mothers kitchen knife
Hang it upon the wall like a master piece of art
Blood has never harmed anybody
My eyes picked out with toothpicks
An old man in a suit will eat them like olives in a glass
My hands
I honor them to lead the pen to the finish line
Those I will keep
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 8:09 PM UTC
A quality of ignorance,
self-deception may be
necessary to the poet’s
survival.
Jim Morrison
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 2:55 PM UTC
All my people
All my adventure
All my passion
All my free love
I have found in only one
Only you I would give the world improved
Ready to roll into the black hole
I pull my eyes to the left
They see snow on dead ground
Naked trees high on anorexia
Pieces of blue are trying to paint idyllic
But I’m not here
I’m with you at the hallways with the sun knocking at the door, even at night.
In front we have the past as well as the present
Couldn’t be more majestic
I’m not here.
Those days and nights put into a spinning wheel , moving on us.
And no time to shower
The bluest lake full of past, eyelashes of gods and tears of monsters
My mind was not set
No connections of past
Absolute state of endless freedom
Absolutely lost
Light my cigarette honey
Give me time to grab the pen
Give me time to lose a sense of self
Give me the chance to ride in speed of light
Let’s meet on the other side
I get what I wish for – it pours over my skin like burning ice
All the time more than I can take
Let me rest at the train station tonight.
Strange strangers you will get to meet
Torn apart by pain
Thinking to find answers in their own mirrors
In others shadows
Creatures of darkness
He lit another cigarette for me
It was cold, dark outside
The dragon provided me with fire
Exhausted from spoken words and told stories
I wanted to go home
If I only knew where it was.
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 7:20 PM UTC