Baffled by loud,
boisterous chatter boxes.
Completely oblivious to expressions.
That uninterested look on your face
and the feeling of fatigue.
Conversation as dry and baron
as the deserts wasteland.
Nothing in common.
You can't relate.
You get Antsy.
Every excuse to escape.
Thinking about anything else
other than the topic at hand.
The attic upstairs.
Single digit IQ's try to fill it
with treasure chests of useless information.
You don't want any part of it.
Worried about what others are doing.
Their perfect mouths will report
every flaw and imperfection
from someone else's every move,
while they put themselves up on a pedestal.
You could care less.
Zero contempt for
their own actions.
You tune them out.
You know better than to be
brainwashed by these dim-witted
knuckle draggers.
You look right through them
like they're not even there.
You'd rather be anywhere in the world
than trying to uphold a conversation
with this person.
Sovereigns of discussion
change subjects and steal the show
with their big takeover and  interrupt
that heart-to-heart you have with
your peers.
They vent about their troubles
and financial situations
like no one else in this world
has problems.
Yet, they contradict themselves
by flaunting and flashing
the expenditures on frivolous
things from the day before.
They've got much to say
but not a lot to talk about.
You have to dumb yourself down
on comfort levels just to connect.
Raiders of dialogue unleash
the tongue lashing of the century
as they talk "at" you
and not with you.
Loquacious bobble heads
with rotten personalities
share gossip and spread rumors.
Whispering in ears
behind the backs of others.
Sexist, racist, homophobic comments.
Bad combination of being
over opinionated and
living in the early stages of evolution. ******* and belittlement.
Telling you what to do while
putting you down simultaneously.
Feeling powerful and favorable.
Like a bully picking on children.
You simply ignore this because
you know better than to digest
such immoral behavior.
They don't care about
the historical events of your life.
Only their own.
Far fetched nostalgic
childhood memories.
Lies upon lies.
You call them out on it.
Only more lies to cover it up.
No use trying.
So vain in self absorbed sophistication. Superstars in their own minds.
THE BIG FISH.
It's virtually impossible to argue
with stupid people.
Family, friends, coworkers,
random's at the breweries.
Hiding unknown identities behind fabricated stories to sugarcoat the pressures of not being able
to handle the pure, unadulterated, truth. You need these types of people
in your life for entertainment value,
not to bore you death
but to sit back silently,
analyze and interpret
with your imaginary bucket of popcorn
as they prey upon other innocent bystanders and punish them
with the same unbalanced lectures.
You see the same dull and disinterested ****** expression you once had.
You're not alone.
Avoid eye contact
with these ingrates.
You are not that
unintelligent.
Never forget that.

Photo of Leonard

I stare and watch your face
as it contemplates
your smile
You are but a photograph
Yet my heart still feels you

After the lense had shut
and the negative lay still
unborn
I wonder if you were
there
how I see you
here
now

I am a musical note in a guitar
Waiting for the touch of dexterous hands

I am a chrysalis under a paling leaf
Waiting to be turned into a butterfly

I am raw ore in the far depths of the mine
Waiting to be extracted and purified

I am a smoldering piece of coal in the hearth
Waiting to be blown into a flame

I am a rough stone under the Earth’s crust
Waiting to be hewn into a diamond

I am an antique piece long buried in the soil
Waiting excavation to become a treasured exhibit

I am a piece of canvas fixed on the easel
Waiting for the touch of a master artist

How I long to transcend my rawness
Into something better and refined

But can I do anything wholly myself
Never! Everything depends on others will too

I discern I am only a flickering shadow
That has existence only if there is light!

There's a storm in my teacup,
An ache in my head,
A plethora of words,
That are better unsaid.

There's a monster inside me,
That never stops speaking,
Though I try to control,
The havoc it's seeking.

You think I'm a good person,
But I do not agree,
My friend: you only judge me,
Based on what you can see.

governments who fear to hear
the voices of their citizens
are well advised
to mend their ways

Before I met you
I thought that
poetry was just
a collection of words,
that music was just
a collection of sounds,
that art was just
a collection of
shapes, colours and stokes
that life was just
a series of
years, breaths and steps
Indeed, I see things differently now
Through you, I am reborn