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60 sunshines, 59 nightfalls till I face the day
40 topics held in to regurgitate,
**** and span for the marker man to give a brother a break.

Wait, I ain't done
Got anxiety about two more chores in head
Not to ***** and moan but *******
Getting tired of this ****
What's the point to push if you don't know where to go
Blindful blissful ignorance?

They say, and you go.
What subject?
What ever is most respected.
What job?
What ever brings financial comfort.
What about this?
Nah, you ain't good at that.

And so you sulk ever so distracted
Hearing the drip drop taps, splat on to the sink.
The metallic ting of the radiator reverberates as dormant inner silence sings.
Forever more.
A didactic sore for the ears,
Apologies in advance,
Though regardless you must hear it.

Never run to please others
Rather, focus and listen to the deep.
All good people agree,
And all good people say,
All nice people, like Us, are We
And every one else is They:
But if you cross over the sea,
Instead of over the way,
You may end by (think of it!) looking on We
As only a sort of They !

**Rudyard Kipling
Given the recent tragic events, the purpose of this post is to honor the victims of the horrific terrorist attacks in both France and Lebanon. My deepest condolences go to the families of said victims, may they rest in peace.
My attire, flyer than a kite
Bellowing higher
Floating, but ******
Sober, I'm told
The only state I'm in
Ain't about sin
Just a means to avoid
a loose mind
Of a multiple kind
Where happy and mad coincide
Follow me through the workings,

Go inside.

Where the mood pendulates
side to side
With reckless abandon.

Manifest in a man
To have childish tantrums
Self righteous in  his self deprecating anthems
To spring one's phantoms alive.

This, I strive to evade
I hide, but to save
No one else, but me.

Everyman for himself!

The mantra (sadly) of anyone seeking to be Free!
957 · Nov 2015
Russian Doll
Love is a mindless obsession.
Oblique as point
View here I bear thought
Hard in heart
That glows with blue hue.
Timeless affection
Endless inner dialogue
Leave everything external regressive
Engulfed within self
Once layered within other
Oh Brother
I am Russian Doll
For now
Oh Well.
Regrets are none
I'm alright in this state of confusion.
Oh, Right
In this compelled numb!
868 · Nov 2015
The Compelled Numb
What is it to be compelled?
What is it to have a feeling ****** upon?
Like a needle
It ******,
Scratches and sticks
Stays in mind
Repeats, rewinds and repeats
Time and time and time...

Until, another comes about
Pricking, sticking and repeating
Like the one prior
Only different in its nature
Stemmed and born to cater
The prototype that preceded
Predicated on deceiving
One's perception of the first.

And another third to sift off the second
And a forth to sift off the third...

Leaving one deaf, blind and dumb
Becoming nothing but an outcast;
A sad and lonely ***.
Immobilised and cocooned in bed;
The warm glimmering shine of sun-
Touch not registered  
Given the compelled numb.
795 · Apr 2017
Family
To hate family is to hate self.
for whether to admit, or not
they are us,
and we are them,
inexorably tied,
Our traits,
hopes,
desires;
us,
Blood,
Love,
carry through.

this is no reason to be distraught
it instead simply is.
mother nature does not stop
do not fear this
to over-acknowledge is to assume
you posses more than the man that stands near
what lies beneath is a part of her charm
she is ambivalent and could care less
she means to do no harm.
Therefore, where the feel of inherent flaws plague the mind
let go,
sit,
turn off all distractions
and give yourself time,

to

Ponder
not when you fail,

to

Think,
not when you fall
but pass, and
Rise
above and beyond
not in the eyes of the onlooker
but in the eyes of the self...

not in unwrapped spite,
but in benevolent unison

Family:
they are me
i am them!
through eternity.
705 · Apr 2017
Coffee
Nothing like a cup of coffee to cure your ills
Tired?
Coffee will do the trick
Stressed?
Grab a brew and you'll loosen up, you old stiff.
None of that cheap ****
A slow roast blend from the third world
will do.

Milk?
No, pure.
Sugar?
NO! Pure.
Filter?
No, drip only.

I want every morsel of flavour.
Ever drop from those mud coloured grind granules.
Every little pitter patter
Of brown bitter splatter.
So strong to leave a man wired
Awake?
So Awake ; prepared.
Alive?
So Alive to my surroundings;  aware.

Oh, there come those jitters;
perfect,
To be nothing less than scared.
God ******, I said no filter!
I promise you
it'll tastes better

Hey buddy, I'm at the centre
Tired of your gimmicks
Frappa-this
Cappu-that
I'm not a fan of that mocha crap
For I am a purist, through and through.

Therefore, hand what I demand,
Said dark waters
With heat of Hades
Please, i must, before i falter
SAVE ME! i FEEL THE SIGNS!

Oh gosh, we're fresh out of coffee.

**** it, well, I guess a tea should be fine!
649 · Oct 2015
Anxiety
It is a strain
That wonderful darkness that pulls.
Like the roots of weeds
It grabs by the knees and holds.
Causing deep thoughts to cluster;
Amalgamate and fuse.
Leaving only frustrations to fluster
And pendulate one's mood.
643 · Apr 2017
I love walnuts
i love walnuts,
the shape,
the skin; coarse
the feel; soap bar texture

crushed into pieces
fragrance at peak
collect
another,
and another
let the waters burst,
in sea of fragments;
oil-water submerged.
bitter first,
sweeter the second,
sour the third...

until swallow: flush down below
till only remnants survive

then restart till satisfied!
627 · Apr 2017
Pity
Pity: the fuel of self esteem;
a false sympathy,
never to help the other in need.
Instead a seed planted
hand crafted
placed within host
to disassemble ones self love
and feed for self, thereof.

It is indulgent.
Narcissistic, but worth it.
For the once dull glimmers,
the fire dies down,
smoke cloud; heat simmers.
Colours more varied.
Clicked in, pieces; in sync.
Cured of sickness,
no longer at the brink.

Can't you see it!
The sparrows, they sing!
On the fleeting branches of a dying spring.

The church bells, they ring!
Reverberating a solemn deference
our forgotten reference
my remembered past.


Don't look at me like that.
I ain't crazy.
I'm okay taking to feel this way.
I'm okay!
It don't bother me none.

You are free?
  
I am Free.
616 · Jun 2017
Melody
Last day of college.
The world around her screams in glee.
Almost oblivious, they all frolic.
Momentary un-lock of commitment;
Summer's come.
Energy's residue; heat; young sentiment.
The centre piece, just for the hell of it.

Though detached she is.
Flung in her own, she reclines.
Where Time holds her still, to nourish
And throw away when it decides.
Where enough suns have fallen for the tarnish to be justified.

Can you blame her?
Who else can one find.
Where the one attached has withered and died.
For that is love;
An inexorable tie.
A close trust.
Founded on the lie of an eternal bond.

Where the soul is gone
And all that is left is the tune, the song.
The Melody, the beat that repeats on and on and on
(You must be creative to be able to move)
That's what love does

I do not sit idly on what could have been
*I stay forever on what was!
590 · Jul 2015
To Idealise is Sin
To Idealise is Sin!
For one ignores truth,
instead holding with sentiment a specific image within.
Without flaw and without compromise,
a picture unattainable.
Perfection in beauty and in mind.
Ultimately bearing no ties
to what truly exists.

His object of desire is like a flake of snow;
each entanglement of the fibers of ice hold
patterns only visible under rigorous scrutiny.
Yet the closer one gets,
near to contact, it begins to hit ya
like a brick to the chest;
it bears no resemblance
uglier than expected is the picture.
Broken in agony one becomes;
stock still stared.
Knocked like a left hook to the chin.
A fallen soul unwilling to be spared.
Isolated he roams.
In anguish he brims, as a result
He becomes the metal man with nothing but a heart of tin.

For this reason and this reason alone...
To Idealise is Sin!
563 · May 2017
Untitled
Autumn blue
In summer green
Sun glistens
Heat; tungsten hue
Street bustle
Inner hustle
Love flourish
No tussle.
No tie
In angst
I strive!
527 · Jul 2015
Stuck!
Stuck is how I feel.
Stuck is what I am.
A stick in the mud,
a gum on the shoe,
a feeling; motionless
given troubles I can't address
in an endless abyss I stand.
Stuck is what I am.

Trapped it has made me.
Alone it has caved me.
Isolated in the centre
in the coldest of winter;
without friend,
without plan.
Stuck is what I am.
507 · Sep 2015
Icewall
I guess I don't get it and that's fine,
The rumblings, the gestures,
The contact...it's all alien,
What lies beneath the icewall is visible yet I can't pry in.
I can't get to the other side.
All to be is passive,
All to do is stomach the ride.
498 · Jul 2015
Refuge
Isolated.
Solitarily in silence sitting.
It's fine!
She moves slow here; time.
Not to linger but fester,
To remind of misery.
Not to comfort but pester,
nag does she.
Hold in place
lure tantalisingly.
Motivation nowhere to be found
Gagged tied and bound.
I'm not getting out of this anytime soon
It's fine.
I'll survive.
For now I sit dazed,
ignoring the outside;
locked in my haven.
An insomniac reluctantly lucid from midnight to noon.
In melancholic glee
trapped in my room.
423 · May 2017
For a buck
the yuppies
shuck and jive
for a buck.
trembling reverence
to thrive

deference
for a buck.
character peripheral
regardless, you don't ****
trust
you don't ****

oh I love that film
that music, amazing
regardless of how dim
irrespective of how un-entertaining
for a buck.
don't even fret
you don't ****
trust
you don't ****

even when looked as lower
it don't matter much
you don't fit the profile
it's ok, still love ya
i'll wait and smile
with baited breath
until eternity.

man is fallible
he'll change his ways
just smile
and wait, with baited breath
for that wondrous day!
maybe I don't ****
I'll wait
for the sake of the buck.
358 · Apr 2017
Wilderness
The aroma of mud soaked from the midnight shower.
The distorted beam of light cascading against the polyester wall.
The crackled snap of the amber autumn leaves.
The chirping symphony of jackdaws, perched in harmony.
That slight breeze,
brisk air;
Booming and pulsating, through the small tears.

It was heaven.
Tucked and detached, he slept in his haven.
Alone.
With nothing but the texture of earth beneath, and the freedom of beauty's blue above.

Tranquil bliss.
To be inexorably tied to what we deny
I am beast inside
Though my wretched heart survives
Calmed by the elements outside
For they fly and assist

I  look beyond to that wondrous ambivalence

I rest in peace in the Wilderness!
141 · Feb 2019
Oh Lord Forgive Me!
Psychosis, tis the diagnosis
A pocket full of pills chill symptoms
Alleviate prognosis
Unless situation heightened
Then increase dosage
Hoping for calmed silence
Beauty stroke solace!
118 · Oct 2020
Anger
Anger festers like fire
It’s grows higher
With no escape
In contemplative silence
I wait
Eternal the feeling
There goes the ceiling
Windows hot to touch
No end near
Temperature rising
With an end not enough
No cry for water
No protest for it to stop
I let it burn
Till disfigured
Till completely engulfed
A horror of my making
A self inflicted forsaking
Aching for a breath
A mere puff
But I let it fester
And conceal longer
With not much but a smile on face
Cracking wise: a court jester
All teeth, no tears
All jovial, no sighs
To live another day
Reluctantly alive
90 · Jul 2021
Control
Always remember
When the bolder strikes
When the wind ravages
When the smoke engulfs
When the crowd surround; the savages!
When the sun rises
And the moon sets
When a father beckons
Or a  lover’s affection ebbs
Control is with you.
Not chance, as such
For that belongs to lady-luck
Control, I say it once more
For Him to hear
With a grin, so it’s made clear
Not said in jest but sincere
Control: the language of the soul
That which keeps man still
In the eye of the storm
Control:  what separates man from beast
The secret to being content
And avoiding misery
Control: His greatest gift
Neatly wrapped, hardly touched
Forgotten by most, if not all!
Control: man’s only commodity
Always sold!
Never owned.

— The End —