I see the stars in the sky—
note their pulls, their pulses, their pace.
I scribble them down in verses,
poems made of wonder and space.

I adventure with elves through dungeons,
craft blueprints in life and in game,
yearning for something like magic—
connection that kindles a name.

So if one day I meet her gaze,
the one that stills quantum waves—
collapses the maybe into now—
I'll finally know what it means

To talk of the stars, together.
To scribble the sky as one.
To quest through the dark and the clever.
To find, at last—
my sun.

you told me of who created the cosmos
heaven, earth, both with no breath lost
his right man born 'tween stone worshippers
his teachings bores wisdom within

touch my head on this earth for You
at least 5 times a day,
help my brothers and sisters of god
to be a good man,

what if I only did the latter
and also to those who don't believe in You
does it really matter?
the address the prayers point to?

but it did to you, mom
ordained since birth in His ways
to be good, first and foremost
and I did, just wasn't in His ways

so it's not a detriment, to you
but a commitment, to me
to be good in spite of it
and a compliment, to us

so know you did well
so much so that,
I catch myself thinking,
if even He,
thinks I'm good too.

piling up interests in my head
profit or debt to be paid?
too many passions held;
in my heart, more than is said

at least,
it made me malleable
somewhat adaptable
cooked in a crucible

for you I'd rotate my being
shaped like clay to your liking
hundred words for you and only you
conversations askew to you

because I could,
genius, prodigy, golden
followed ideas to the end
give any answers you'd want

reached escape velocity
but I was a frozen revolution
caught in orbit,
still in this city

I can't afford to look at my future
so I stare off at my surroundings—
she married through prayers and planning
he flirts and dreams while still studying

she married in the name of God
he jokes about vows over coffee
was it my fault my partner was different?
same Allah, but you couldn’t see it

we resented each other, Mom
can’t you see?
you forbade it, so I hid
I pushed you—and Him—away

I found my own meaning
so if we ever have the conversation
fantastic, no longer phantasmic
you’d know why I wouldn’t marry

lost kid in a city so unfamiliar
no map, felt a life unfilial
walks lonesome streets, stretched thin
roams around, wondering dreams within

astonished by the things he ponders
amazed by flying rails and walkways
he saw money exchanged for companionship
and wonders—
is everyone just as alone as he is?

he thinks of tall buildings and money swirling
layers of bureaucracy and numbing workings
but the colorful streets are splashed with
hopes and dreams of silenced peoples

he wishes to educate, to raise kids
but aims for money to support his own
and pressure here builds like a box sealed—
can he withstand it, or choke up,
just to go home again
to a city
familiar to him.

who’s to say where potential lays—
your betters?
equals?
is there no way to tell?

is it yourself
in nights reflecting,
with only the ceiling listening,
to reach the dream you're reaching
towards?

towards your future?
or the future you're told of—
by the people you were told off
for not listening to?

when maybe
you just need
to sleep it off.

I ask the mirror:
is it art if I need them to look?
Or have I painted hunger
and called it creation?

If a poem blooms
and no eyes rest upon it,
was it still a garden,
or just weeds I whispered into rows?

Do I need applause
or just to not feel invisible?

Is the frame the prison,
or the proof I existed
-**