Jowlough

Jowlough Dec 2017

Black stars on white, thumb and index on lips
rolling with your sports yoyo and red lipstick.
all your visible veins are non-passive,
as I view from your thick lenses behind retrospective.

That filthy container where you're sipping liquid
rebellious crown you're sporting is quite cursive.
hideous mask can't contain your heavy hormones,
when I caught you peeking on the corner wear-ons.

From the corner spot, I can't think of any jargons,
Of words nor dragons I could use, money or mansions
I'm just a steady monkey of potential and future,
Eagled eye but not haunting or never sure.

POV

Jowlough Nov 2017

Childish wasabe

He doesn't know
He looks like a ******
To the masculine commune
Never the bro
Never a revolt
He will be slammed with a colt
In the near future
Acts like fifteen
Almost a ******* pristine
Scummy as it may be
A childish wasabe

Jowlough Nov 2017

Fake House

Fake house I've invented
To elongate my lift
To play the advisor
And pick up lines
To fullfill satisfaction
For you to hear
The tunes I've lined up
Carefully hand picked
Normalized to hear you to bits
Withstanding the insensitive mob
On the common highway
Just to hear giggles
And shiny sun rays
To the invitation
I won't commit
And I make a long turn
So just you won't hint
That the fake house is ****
And my intentions are equipped
And the light punches
You bored on my shoulders
Stinged and milked my cows
To the point where I came up
With the so called fake house.

#fakehouse

Jowlough Nov 2017

Off to bed

I'm not the kind of fool
Who goes first on fondues
Wreak havoc on travels
And get lost and bruised

And fight for anything
And anyone of feelings
I am the son of cold
And the grand child of vulgarity

Never the strong man
Nor the spiritual insane
Running my highway
In my own truck lane

Never ink blotted
By the time I felt I'd like to
Overdoing scatterings
Forcing pusses to pop lingerings

Cropped out from photographs
I am the eagle from the south
A day older from my mere shadow
Of dandies and slouch

I am the charmer of ghosts
In this fatigued jacket
Taking charge of bullets
Triggered from your guts

From your sub standards
Pulled from the gauntlet
Off your misfiring ammo
Crash dummied rocket

Murmurs and prophets
Fake gay dimples
Soft brushes
First class test crashes

In the middle of the zone
Blows my head
Leaves my lights on
Off to bed.

Crook

Jowlough Nov 2017

Kalabao

As I succumb to earthly forces
******* me slowly
Inside the vacuum of
Unlikely desires, calmly

Late evenings
Casted a spell in my lonesome
Presence, flying thoughts
Whether to go undone

Looking for common peace
Mind is under water
I am surrendering
To youthness I cater

But one snap of a finger
I am getting back
To your untarnished image
Suddenly I am back

Not the half the man
I am giving efforts
Joint movements and vision
Insanely positive rapports

I am out of this ride
I am making up for plots
Of lust and neediness
That gave me hurt and cuts

Four in the morning
Recovering sipping my cacao
Thinking of how
Karl kalabao.

******

Jowlough Oct 2017

Hits and misses

You passed me by
With your pupil on the side
Sends shivers down my spine
Like a crime
Whose pleading leads me to vices
In places and all the faces
Your beauty is my basis
Hazes in in your glances
Across the room we fade
And it takes me places
Higher than glaciers
Better than any drugs and laces
Each one of your glances.
Twirling, dances
I surrendered all my cases
All of my history traces
Of all the wisest
And the strongest
The baddest
And the sharpest
The maddest
modest,

Of thorns and roses
Retainers that replaces
Your braces
Pieces
Of fiercest
And finest
Races
You run mazes
Amazes
Teases
Creases
Kisses
Hits and misses.

Tonight, I succumb.

#putragises

Jowlough Oct 2017

The brewing

All the cuts of so called midnight outings
Doesn't seem to count
The Cranium says complains
But the bother's unaware

Those shingalings and twindlings
Was a bust atleast for you
Never locked a stare is it just me who gives a care

You give me a transcendental glue
In my mind you run things that shivers me and woos

A roundabout of shallow ride for you
But a heart attack of all sorts for me
And a leaking faucet of tendencies
All incidentally brewed.

The arrival's like a scene that is embedded in my head
Precision is the name that you game
Never had an interest and had to fool myself
Stories left unclaimed

A roundabout of shallow side for you
But a heart attack of all sorts for me
And a leaking faucet of tendencies
All incidentally brewed.

#sad #life