With love, we are made from love
To love,— we are once loved
Give love to receive love, be love to see love
And speak love to taste love

We are all love...

"I'm the sweetest"
so said the grapefruit by it's looks,
"I'm the most mature"
so said a sour big grape hanging on,
"I'm the tastiest"
so said an apple with a worm in the centre.

Oh the denial of beauty, alas it's subtleties
are just a bite in moments.
But what fill does it have,
of it's tastes?

Feeling extra nervous, when my phone battery hits
forty-four. Feeling low at the half points of my soul,
Train of thoughts burning all of the last coals. Fossil fuels,
going into being extinct. Less than active when I take so
long to blink. So over a thought, but only after I over think.

Did I set that alarm, the daily one I always check before bed.
“I hope tomorrow I don’t wake up dead,“ hasn’t that phrase
been over said? Who really cares, and why do the corner eyes
of stranger’s have such awkward stares? Glares of my glaring
insecurities, usually when I’m treating my flaws with such cruelty.

Disciplinary, proceedings brought forth to the circles of self
beatings on my every worth. Could never describe myself with
just a single word. I’m bent over myself on a road of life, with
the longest curve.

Where am I heading, when it feels like seven seconds close to
Heaven. All the blessings in a straw nest of Christians still
nestling. Going against the world, and t.v. screen’s weaponry.
Bang, bang, boom! We cares about doom, just take it as nothing,
and quickly move.

Onto the very next thing, and trend. Do what the t.v. says,
playing the longest game of Simon says. Like wrestling bears.
That’s a very short fight of pulling hairs. Ha! Being bold to being
bald.

There I go again over thinking ahead of my next thought.
Butterfly fishing, for the wings of a wet slippery effect, I soon
never caught.

By the way, my phone is at forty-one. Rushing to put it on
charge all night for morning’s fun. It wasn’t charging at all.
Well, don’t I feel so dumb.

Sigh! The one time I didn’t choose to over think. Now I don’t
have the device to quickly dot down how I feel.

Being an over thinker is so real.

Mountains that are tall, cover the dreams
that are shallow. Valleys that are long,
are the lives that are too short,

Love that is blind, is a tragedy to eyes. Words
that are sweet, are sour to the years.
Beauty that is made, is the grief of an early
morning,

Choices that are made, is the shaping of
their future. Creatures of a thousand
breaths, are all under one Death,

Tears of now, aren’t the ones of forever.
Spirits to be filled, are of those empty vessels.
Transformation isn’t a sudden, but all a
continuous event,

All that we want to be, can all be.
The question is only,—

when?

When do you choose to move, in all
the things of life holding you back,
When do you choose to be brave, in all
the fears you constantly have to face,
When do you fix a broken world, in all
of the brokenness to be fixed in you,
When do you choose to love another, in all
of the less love they have for you,
And truly when do you make a change for yourself,
in all a society trying to change you,—

tell me when?

Wipe my eyes, melting away the wax
of unrighteousness; to see into your grace,
and all it’s wisdom.

I’ve been blinded,— to not see the value of my
worth. In dusty mirrors, only seeing the worst.
A slave, a sinner, and being so undeserving of
your love.

Oh Father,—

Boys will be boys, but not rarely are the
men baptised in wisdom. Washed of their
former selves.

Spirit filled,— isn’t of the religious talk your lips
could exclaim. But of what really resides inside;
of you and your relationship with God, alone.

Voices are many, only in the quietest moments
of heading into sin. But it’s but a whisper of what
true righteousness speaks of.

Know that it is Him,— the King of kings,
Lord of all, as Jesus is and remains the one
true King.

Reading the Bible, when Jesus died
Each time I was feeling suicidal. Grab onto the rifle,
Feeling ****** in those cycles. Who am I though, in the
These staying thoughts, wondering where to go?

Reading a newspaper, to impress the daily
Struggles of my neighbour. Asking for a teaspoon of cooking
Oil as a favour. We all bleed the same, but act as if we’re
Not made from the same creator?

Reading the comments, the racial barriers,
Looking black, but I was told I belonged to the coloureds.
White tongue speaking, too seem a little different, yet
I wasn’t regardless. A garden of people, but why did it feel
Like we weren’t any part of those pretty flowers?

Reading the gimmicks, the fake prophets, and
All of those acting religious. Irreligious, eerie thoughts
Of those seeing their own hate as a witness. Can you believe
This, or are we the generations just to repeat this?

Reading up on the icon, believing one could be my
Saviour while they’re well gone. I could remember all
Of the lyrics of a trendy song. But not enough verses of
My Bible with the dust on. Would I rise less to Heaven by
The next dawn?

Reading the tears of years, I’ve got the tragedy of
Losses to former peers. Not in death, but feels like it
When we haven’t spoken in years. It’s clear we weren’t
Here for too long, to relate on our greatest fears.

So I’m just reading, reading, reading,
Never to stop reading all that I see.
I’ve read into so much matters of this crazy world,
My eyes at times bleed.

I read on...

Leather seating, closure in these moments
while we’re on the longest of this drive,
Maps stuffed in the glove compartment; where
shall we go on this long road?

Not giving hearts, but giving you my word,
in a blue chassis ride, skipping gears to get to five.
Going down hill, and I’ll put it down into glide.

I’m not as neutral, to express my eyes, reflecting
all the pretty mirrors of your body.
Lap sitting, holding onto my steering wheel,
hand on a rear; wipers set on low. And I’ll kiss you
one last time, as if the last becomes the first.

Blue Nissan, tell me if you’ve even been in a
ride like this before? When your empty pockets are
full, and you’re driving a car you could never afford.

I promised myself, not to do the wrongs I do to
myself to someone I love.
To not go on stealing hearts, as if this world
doesn’t have too many bandits.

My hands are vowed to only rest their desires
on you. These lips are a secret only to know
your ears.

This love I can only gladly give to my God,
You, and His people.

Death isn’t an end to us, but just a new beginning
we can only get to one by one.
So keep my seat warm up in Heaven, and I’ll keep
yours too if it’s me to go before you.

Whether sickness is chasing my lungs,
cancers diagnosed on my list of problems,
Let’s just be running towards the days of life you
and I both still have.

And like this drive,
with no rush to our final destination,
But enjoyment of all we’ll experience on this
road of life.

The wettest of love written out of my black
fountain pen. I’ve got hearts to spend,
customs to save, and not a lot of people to blame.

Oh what a shame, in this love’s long game,
starting off as friends, good remarks,
All into permanent scars; how haven’t we
come as far?

Oh I wonder how to slow down, to keep on
searching for something not yet around.

Love!

Oh where do I search, with the possible heartbreaks
that seem to lurk? Cut and burnt, soon after I had
my first.

Love letters into ashes, ashes into the dust,
scratched out names, nails turning into rust.

Pinned down by the wrists; to hold onto pain,
crosses are instead exes. Restless, into resting
soundly in my death.

In over my head, thoughts are covering
my shame. I’m waiting patiently after all,
to fall in love.

Once again.

Treat as royalty with my broken crown,
pull away veils, could I not see your open
love,

Your heart amongst empty chests in the
crowd,
would you only notice me when I'm not
around,
Wish to hear me when there’s not a single
sound,
you only seemed lost when there was nothing you
found,

Act high on your thrills in a lifestyle so upside
down,
a pound of flesh, a pack of thoughts, and a bag of
****,

Every time you sleep, you’re taking that leap,
another risk; whether this time to wake up from
that dream,

Eyes wet, waking up from ocean dreams,
I hope your parents taught you well how to
swim,

In so deep, in murky waters,
as all you’re doing is looking for surface under
your feet.

But the sands also sink,
trying not to shut your eyes, so you constantly
blink.

Insomnia is keen to grinning,
smiling on all the chances of stealing your
sleep.

I’m so weak; for not being your shore
inside of all those tempestuous dreams.

Ghost in the shadows, killing thoughts had in the dark,
What luck to have been so close to an edge,
pulled away from the cliff, close to being cut off,
But my scaled skin just broke off the tip. Given a
second chance to live.

Sort of took a chance to breathe, took all that’s in,
And letting out desire; seems my old inner demons
are quick to come together and conspire,
Darling I’m only a liar, I could never count all
of the daily lies in pen, and catchy rhymes.

But just wait for tonight.

Tonight we’re going to be caught up in a lie,
laying sheets of paper on a wooden bed,
Drawing closer to an embrace, with my imprint
on your skin.

Oh where to begin?


Is it sweet lips, cherry bites, and still wild,
scented candles, and perfumed necks,
Smelling of youthful passions, and exuberance,
I’m dying fighting this flesh.

Chestful of voices, holding breaths, holding
embraces, and swimming pools, swimming
breast stroke. I’m smothered by your pillows.

In the centre line to the belly of tickles, all the
sensitive areas for both of us.
Of course the senses are only too much, if my
tenderness of kisses are a bit too fast.

Setting sun, and a sinking moon,
in between an ocean with it’s two peaks,
I had my glimpse under a dress,
address me as a favourite flavour, slowly as you
undress.

The duration of warming up long legs,
pressing down buttons, pressing knees,
Pressing feet, pressing emotions, pressing
concerns, I’m pressed to solve them with a
bust of a gun.

Won’t our tonight be so fun?

These fallen empires; hidden treasures,
how to put them into words,—

I’d much prefer; of things I’ve had,
oh of the so little, less than expected.

Truly then to be glad.

Of an out of touch experience; but soon
it’s out of hand.

As time is like Oceanside sands,—
to come and go in just moments,

Alas the winds...a breath, a breeze,
so shyly felt on my naked skins,

A keen spirit of blessings, shall they be upon
you; like the ocean’s sun sinking into skin.

Do go on to dream,
with open eyes; for the successes you’d long to see.

Novelty; as of which morality is in the pages
of life’s novel. Seems so short now; in the days
of this crazy world.

I yawn; as the many things of it;
has rendered me so bored.

But still in the hopes to live young,
smile long, and die old.

Live on, dream long, be strong, and be bold.

Tis my message to all.

Young are fools,
Young is love with it’s gazing wet eyes,
Young is time,— of it you still have,
Young are dreams,
Young are fears,
Young are the first worries life burdens us with,
Young are we all,—only for a time.

You are never too young of all to do,
But old in the spirits of picking whichever's when,
To start off young, and end off old.
Though life is as short,— it feels too young nowadays.

~All is too young.~

My desires of a dream, in the sheeting of time.
I am wrapped over, by a harsh reality.
A morning sunrise, upsets dark looming eyes of fears.
Gutted by the feelings of butterflies in my stomach.
The knots of being tied to flesh.
Belittled by facts of my experience not reaching up to this word
of Love.

Seems only a word slipping out of the tongue to wet ears.
Pleasurable to be heard by our once youth.
But not of their deserving.
But what of the old, that has impressed the new, I haven’t
the slightest clue.

Garden roses
my heart is a bunch of thorns,

Sweet white Lillie
my love is of ornamental peace,

Oh my Aster
the brightest star in the dark,

My sweetest Daisy
so affectionate sweetness of your hope,

These tulips are such
a touch of my purple violence,

For blue Iris
is stuck inside of my shadowy eye,

In this paradise,
please my dearest children, keep away
all of those weeds.

Beautiful tragedy, a travesty of love brought by
things unspoken by the lips of so many few.
A honeydew sticky to my tongue, underneath the
fun of having someone to call, “my love”

Fields of maize rustling dry leaves in the tiniest
of breeze. Reminds me of the first time love had
shook me down in my knees.
Baobab trees of a swollen heart, packing luggage in
that African trunk. Under the tree kissing during lunch,
or in all of those lessons you and I would love to bunk.

Eversharp blue pens, drawing heart pictures on my wrist.
Bathroom breaks, and scandalous friends. Making sure
the memory of you, isn’t the one thing I rinse.
I’m convinced, with all the exercise books with tiny blocks,
I’d one day be boxed in by love.

With heavy weinbrenner shoes, walking around your entire
room to make them fit. I’d walk a thousand miles
to find a place in your heart, with my charms and wit.

Cascade diary drinks, cascading shadows of your
desires milked by the many ways you’ve lived.
I felt you heavily breathe, each time we kissed,
clutching my fingers to grab onto a time,
long before the low blows of love with a closed fist.

Must be nostalgia talking into my present days
and cares. A crush sweet as orange Mazoe,
you and I once would share.

I’ll take all the time to remember those lessons from old
things, and of course an old flame of love.
Trace my fingers along the scars, and the smiles
of memories we made out together.
Despite it being out of teenage peer pressure,
I’ve grown from it, to grow into something better.

I thank the nostalgia to my love. It’s worth the look back.

I’m inside of a scaled walled fortress,
the greatest strains in a mind's limit,
to limit myself inside of castle walls,

Of a writer's block,
refusing to let my passions rest
inside concrete walls,

Paranoia is a loud emptiness,
bouncing back and forth,
corner to corner; in this ball,
playing with my thoughts in these walls,

I can’t think inside of these walls,
can’t see ahead fears inside of these walls,
reluctant to move inside of these walls,
dependent on myself inside of these walls,
I have no choice but to break down these walls.

honeycomb lips,
swarms of bees on your tongue,
hives on your heart,
a Queen bee is your soul.

buzzing, buzzing, buzzing,

all in my ears,
now a taste of my tears,
straight after I got stung.

buzzing, buzzing, buzzing,

there she goes,
only protecting her sweet,
nectar is her love,
but I found myself allergic to bees.

buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.

I face fatigue each time I breathe,
praying on my knees until they bleed,
Facing another stressful day I’ve got to live,
I wish I could leave, if I believe enough in all of
my dreams; I’d close my eyes just to relive, and sigh
heavily for my relief.

Oh grief, is sentiment cement on memory streets;
walking on for long, towards that unfamiliar dawn,
Listening to unfamiliar songs, hoping I never forget
where the heck I came from.

When I get famous, and lost in the crowd’s
empty praises; the quietest moments are so loud.
I hope I make my family proud, and buy my mother
that house, she’d live in happily, even if it was for a couple
hours. Really beats the days I was just borrowing flowers.

Forgetting when Mother’s day actually falls,
let me recheck my calendar to make sure.

From having bosses smile politely at me,
but refer to me by the worst of words.
I’m just nodding my head for an empty pay cheque,
spending it on necessities. But ****, that swiping
hurts!

Waiting for a day to be closing my eyes at every swipe,
no need to add, and calculate the final price,
Without all of the wants, but enough money to afford
all of my needs in life.

Let them remember me by all of these
experiences I enjoy to write.

I truly love to write...

A for anybody; for any of you reading
into my heart. Try correct the spelling.

B for beginning; to any great story I’m
soon to tell. I hope to get your understanding.

C for seasons; oh for life’s many moments
comes with change. All reshaping.

D for decisions; mostly the critical ones
I make in a day. I do so after praying.

E for eating; especially when I’m in a such
a bad mood. Who doesn’t love eating?

F for effort; so fit to do even in the hardest
of all situations. Just keep pushing!

G for ginger; sweet and bitter at times
while trying to be polite. People are testing.

H for eish; a word I often say under a lot
of daily stress. The closest I am to swearing.

I for iron; cause life’s a pressing matter
of sorts. And close to *******.

J for Jane; I couldn’t think of a clever word
but I’d most likely crush on one. Just saying.

K for Kassan; I wouldn’t be one shying away
from loving himself. I’m quite impressing.

L for l-plate; cause I’m still learning this
race to truly love. There’s no point rushing.

M for meh; not much for me to really say
when it comes to it. Just keep it moving.

N for anything; that tickles your fancy
on happiness. Just keep on smiling.

O for oh; of all the many realizations in
this beautiful life. So mesmerising.

P for pea; not the liquid if your mind
leaks. It wasn’t a vegetable I was fond of eating.

Q for cue; maybe as the time for me to
leave, or stick in the line. Cameras always rolling.

R for are; being asked if you are ready or
you are not. Especially if it’s something daring.

S for especially; mostly in the times my points
are right. No need correcting.

T for tedious; I’m not a fan of repeating myself
too many times. Are you listening?

U for euphoria; I’ve never been the happiest
to use that word. But I’m still trying.

V for victorious; and of the vision to
see my successes far ahead. I keep on dreaming.

W for double you; seems a bit to easy
but I’d wish to have a double of you. Talking about loving.

X for excellent; as of when I write something
that fills me with joy. So exciting!

Y for why; for a curious mind hungry
for wisdom, and spirituality. I long for reasoning.

Z for zeal; the cause is done when it finally
meets it’s end. Finally granted the best finishing.

Love's ugliness to the roses of sweet,
Claiming you as an only need,
A beast to sweet nothings; it has to feast,
I sprained my ankles; at the too many times love
swept me off my feet.

Violets painted in a colour of violence,
Stealing a heart; by a bandit's right handed
silence,

Patience my love; all of your ends are priceless,
Driving myself into you without the licence,
But there's so many types of love like this.

Love's closed fist; is a punch to a pretty face,
An open hand to follow, but with a chase,
An unruly intention, disguised in grace,
Criticism of another, at times under praise,
A good feeling at times, but at times the good
wants to misbehave.

Still...

It's of beauty; behind a world's cruelty,
Wishing you all the best. Well usually,
Continually chasing a love to fool me,
A nut of sorts; love would ***** me.

Longing for love; when you've felt unloved,
Longing for feelings; never been touched,
Longing for hands; the last been clutched,
Longing for speed; hoping to get that rush,
Darling I must love you too much.

I'm drinking young, as my body gets older,
three girls, and immature conversation on a long sofa.
The drinks get colder, and colder, my chest gets warmer;
on whiskey shots with no body armour.
I taste a sound, and smell a colour of doing in my head
over social trends,
Partying with people who aren't really my friends.
My bladder feels like a knife tip on my hanging joys,
Taking long pees, and taking chances with any girl; when I've
got the confidence of the boys.

Disco lights under the party life, a quick mix to dilute my
drink with some sprite.
Not something I love, but I'm learning to like.
Hype me up with cheers, line out my favourite gin, and
put aside those heavy beers.
I've got a sweet tongue for fun, a mix of sweetness and
alcohol like my favourite chocolate. Raisin and ***.

Too scared to cough; I might just throw up,
but I can't seem weak; so I'll just bro up.
Acting proud while yelling, "another cup"

I pass out, and wake up in a house that's not my house.
In a bed wrapped in a pink fluffy towel.
The someone by my side, if I can remember wasn't too
hot; but sort of mild.
By my skin marks; she seemed a little wild.

But I notice a wig on a mannequin head,
I peep to see that it wasn't the same girl from last night
lying besides me, on that bed.
She had her extras off on the dressing room table display,
She woke up saying, "good morning bae," and I went on exclaiming, "eeeyy"

She offered me breakfast, but I decided it was best
to break fast out of there.
She begged me to stay,  as her one charming prince,
but you know I didn't even care.

I wasn't too sure which neighbourhood I wound up;
but it was rather me getting **** in unfamiliar corners,
then getting bound up.
******* in a relationship that I never signed up to.
Maybe I had too much to drink... with both drinks and her
kisses by the mouthful.

How the story goes, and soon ends,
All in the story of events.

All the shortest summers,
I compare a love to a beautiful day,
Tempted temperatures; this artistry close to lust,
There's a careless wind of having nothing to say.

But summer's a bit short,
by these winter chills down my spine,
You leave so lovely; missing a bright complexion,
And of course; that lovely bright smile.

All that's fair; but feels dimmed, and trimmed,
Cut off from your love, I held to my very last,
Opened my eyes to yours; to feel I once dreamed.

But I do scare of beauty's fade; coming to our age,
When all our possessions are but empty, and cold,
Children remembering us as shadows under shade.

Time grows. And I've grown deep roots into love,
But love often is this constant battleground.

But I'll be one keen to fight all for you.

My daddy warned me; not to stay up late,
But how could I not cry, when the world looks
So much better inside of that screen?

My daddy never told me why, because we
were too busy crying.

My daddy warned me; not to give up on my faith,
But how could I not decide, to let go of faith,
When we’ve all lost our ways?

My daddy couldn’t hold his own,
With all the weight of the entire world.

All these tears, have run dry,
And I’m just bleeding out of my eye,
And it’s so hard to cry, knowing your soul has died.
All these tears, have already died.
Already died, already died, already died,
I don’t feel alive.

My daddy warned me, not to be so lazy,
But how could I not sigh, at any movement,
Feeling like we’re all about to die?

My daddy worked himself to the bone,
All with nothing of his own.

My daddy warned me, not to give up on dreams,
But how could I not tell him, we’re all feeling scared;
With so much pressure placed on our heads?

My daddy didn’t face all of his fears,
We're both running off scared.

But my daddy told me to, look up to the sky,
Even when I want to cry, with tears gone dry,
Someone is by my side, as Heaven also cries.

All these tears, are filled with life.
Filled with life, filled with life, filled with life,
And I’m still alive.

Under the tears of sun
burned by light,

Touched by desire
and filled with fire,

I am bright as
a son of a sun.

bought crushies for a crush;
but she told me I was just a friend,
a brother on the hush,
pouring out how her boyfriend got back together
a few days after they broke up,
i had a crush on a crush that crushed my heart,
a crushing feeling.

People do take off their shoes
to walk all over you,

Loved ones do take off their shoes
to cross your mind,

Things do take off their shoes
to be running thoughts,

Dreamers do take off their shoes
to get a step ahead,

And the brave ones do take off their shoes
to always stand out.

I much take off my shoes
to be outstanding.

Now how do I put it into words,
Explaining a feeling I've never felt before,
A little piece of love; making me yearn for more,
A richly deserved taste of it's brewing love,
Inside of my cup; sometimes in a long mug,
The steam tickles my top lip hairs, I stir, and stir,
Sip, sip, careful not to get burned.

That little *** is boiling over the stove,
It whistles proudly; of my warm heart for my love.

Pulling the draw; grabbing a spoon, three teaspoons
of sugar, a full spoon of coffee, and the hot water I pour.
Oh! Looks like it's a bit to bitter, so let's grab the sugar
and add one more.

Warm blanket, warm thoughts, a warm paper,
and pen, then my warm words.

Warmth. Warmth is all I can describe of my
love in words.

Kisses don't last forever,
lipstick scars on my collared shirt;
sweet perfumes sinking into my neck.
Searching for a rush,
there's a rush out there looking for me.

Let me play my tongue on you;
just like I love to play with my words.

Lust of rush; my eye on a crush,
She's a crushing feeling; as when my cheek
bones hurt every time I blush. Plush; so richly
filled and lush. Could I love you as a must;
But a piece of you is far too much.

Do you...

Indulge in all of those senses;
As my sense of appeal is to be the one who
stole your heart. I'm much made of steel;
heavy weighed inside of my pants.
But why be quick in our advances; let's have
a little romance. Pick out our cards at every chance.
I'll play your King, with just few plays with my hands.

A squeeze; you feel the weakness on your knees,
each time I wrap around your neck.
And proceed into those long kisses that steal your
breath. Bite you down like an enemy; be tender
to all of those marks like a friend.

But I'd soon forget, of which of us gets naked
first; before pulling the covers of the bed.
I'm sitting on the edge; grinning at a striptease
doing in my head.

I can't pretend, that my skins aren't hair raising;
lips craving, body shaking, and I'm embracing
the embrace of me driving my destination inside
of your place.

But these are the thoughts on the road:
of what's about to come.

I'm still on the way.

Ocean lines,— under those eyes;
and lovely tears of their blue.
I took a bite of your fruit; cherry lips,
red passionate desired kiss.
Smooth skins of curves; peaches compliment
the plums. Passion fruit, a sour grape mix;
of bitter sweet love at times of you.
A basket case; I'm the fool neither less full of your fruit.

It's under your shoes; glass pieces of hearts
you step on with your high heel boots.
The cracks of sound are the proof;
of your quickened harshness to be my abuse.
I'm no use,— of not being the type used to you.
Scared of a cost to being scarred by love;–
so sacred of you, and all it's holy oxygen in the room.

The atmosphere does change;
but never more like your shades.
I'm stuck in empty pages; trying my best to read into
you. Oh of how the longings I have to meet,— on that
particularly day past a pens dreams painted in ink.
Cornered by love, if when I'm dared to walk on it's street.

The sweets nothings on repeat;
the few awkward hugs, handshakes, speed dating,
and those meet and greets.

Best to find love,— before it comes hunting for
me.

L-O-V-E

Looking Out Very Enthusiastically.

Crackling; it cracks, and cracks,
shaking the centre of glass,
Shaking the voice of words to comprehend.
As like in the ocean's centre,— undermined of where
it begins or ends.

Falling to the ground; a strike through darkest
weary clouds. It falls to the ground; loud as Lucifer
had fallen out of Heaven,— as with all those angels
kicked out.

Rumbling, and rumbling, falling lightening like
mountains. Rocks that are tumbling, tumbling,
and tumbling to crush.
A crushing feeling is on my skin; peering through
clear glass shadows.

The first echo of thunder; has left a crack on my
windows.

i seen a dog bite it's tail today;
a silent reminder of chasing things left
behind, is the cause of you being stuck in
circles.

stop chasing a past more than looking
ahead to the
future.

I'm too full of a fool; (in love)
death do us part, love you to death,
That's a coffin built for two,— some of me, some of you.
Why cry like an ocean; when your favourite
colour is blue?

There's a shade of yellow; particularly
in the back of your eye... so bright knowing; thinking
about you; (my brightest idea)

I'm alive; in a live performance of watching you
move my heart in motions. Motion pictures;
you fill with films of your story.

But if only...

I wasn't a writer of my imaginative;
a painter in the mind of what if's.
Being good at writing about love out of love;
this is poetic madness.

It seems;

Easy to say, "I love you"
But not to say why,

Easy to say, "I value you"
But not say for what,

Easy to say, "I'll always be there"
But not say for how long,

Easy to say, "I care for you,"
But somehow not care enough,

Easy to say so many of these things;
But still not easy to follow through.

Dear darling.

I'm staring at the sun, with the light
in between your eyes; and this feeling inside
of your bright smile. Summer kisses, caught inside of
it's denial. And the filled cases of your love; trying not to
lose this trial.

It's those lips that shapes that smile; those last skins giving
depth to those thighs. And writing about you; that helps
me with these rhymes. I'm in the directions towards love;
I'll meet you by all of the signs. I'm found; but it's a new love
I still need to find.

So by the end of this short letter line,
my penned down emotions are red signed.

Sighed,

A red love you and I will find.

As in this night,—
Under the moon's calm glow,
I found a sweet Jasmine,
Riverbeds of colour resting in flow.
She's mine of great beauty,
Mine of owning my last hoodie.
A jasmine flower of my incapacitated,
Do you understand my love to you so?

Far as it appears. You are here;
You are near,— Of a white day,
Peace being a ballet display.
Constantly dancing in my eye,
Capturing all of sight.
I held on; holding on longer,
As long in your shortest life.

Oh Jasmine, I failed to make out of you a wife.

Love be the nearest, love be the furthest.
I see an ***, doing the donkey work of to be earnest.
The self identifying; of those among truly purposed.
A garden of roses in carousel; rowing around a carnival park,
Ice cream stains, candy moustaches, brands tomorrow's marque.
People giving loose handshakes; lost it's grip to their love. Their once true love,—
Of all the hateful glaring eyes looking down on us. And what they told us, to then give up.

But love in the nearest? Is of things I hold closely.
As in it's furthest; are those coldest nights I feel so lonely.
Like bare toes inside of the snow; their feet are too cold to move.
Which of my souls do I anticipate to be holy or holey; of my old red shoes?
Glaring, teasing, laughing, shaking, commenting, and pointing,
I expect of others looking at them,— judging my worth at these worthless red shoes.

For a love had. I walked the nearest. And too walked the furthest.

Tall glass towers; on mountains of golden lakes.
An island of ten million dreams; blinded by the lights
of life. Heaven is a time like no other, as nothing has
an end. But all of it's residents have met their end.

Phased by the breath of tens of labours; the works of my
hands. I built glass memories, so fragile of remembering a
tragic past. All that is wasted; wasting away in thoughts.
****** as my hairs in the morning. Some on my neck, of
having their rest on my pillowcases.

A heavy throat, and it's husky voice. Mmh mmh; clearing it
to speak into a day. This morning is a timeless piece of whisky;
strong as the first swallow of belief.

Do I...

believe of any goodness ahead of me for today? A chance of better wealth to add some weight to a wallet? Meeting my potential love; as they're waiting out there?

But when, and how far are all of these things?

Who are the fools to know; all of the wisdom of ancestors
of where they should go? My forefathers have been at this place before. I do suppose; that I am progresses living words.

Onwards, forward, towards, heading, advances, going to
the places of what progress asks of me to go.

Love and lust;
tell me what's the difference, when both
things give me such a rush,
Swore we wouldn't be any of these things;
but aren't we all so quick to cuss?

I talk too much;
can't bite my tongue on words, unless
if I'm not able to pay for our lunch.
I once took out a girl; hoping for a chance
to cuff. Hoping not to get declined on both
my intentions, and brand new swipe card's bluff.

Being in love sometimes *****;
when you're getting blasted for not checking up.
Meeting up; 'I'm a little busy today, but I swear
by tomorrow we'll do some catching up.'
But we're back to the part of going to cuss;
and I've had so many catches, but I'm the one
still catching up.

Let me butter you up;
have you out to spread with open legs,
As I'm tempting myself so close to lust.
Here comes the rush, as the sweetest kisses brim;
overflowing out of my cup.

Our minds are about to erupt;
we both know what's coming up, and what's up.
Seems so hard to stop; but I'm listening to my
spirit, causing things to interrupt.

Looking cute in my eyes of a pup;
every angle looking so plump, before
my head is rushing to pump. Just to dump
my confidence to peers that I'm not a chump.
That I know how exactly to cuff.

But I told myself to stop...

I've been so close in this game between
love & lust;
The hungrier flesh; skins wanting what
they want. But as for me; I'm not letting them have
their luck.

I'm not letting up.

I pray to my Lord; as the prey in this crazy
world, dressed in sheep's clothing of all
those wolves.
All lurking around with no good.

Shepherd guide me; I don't always know
where to go. Staff of mercy; disciplines hurt
of the rod, but keeps me on my track to God.

Teeth marks; and ****** holes in my leg,
went chasing on greener pastures. But instead;
I was caught down on my defence.
Wolves only see red; as they have their prey out as
a spread.

The prey prays not to be prey; by the longest
prayer of all the sheep's prayers.

The sound of a feeling; "I love you"
The touch of a look; "beauty brushing my eyes"
The scent of an action;  "smelling your intentions"
And the taste of a sound; "my sweetest nothings"

Love tickles all of these senses.

when the sunlight stays in that
bright smile of yours; i hope for it's day not
to end,
like tears in the ocean; your beautiful
crying also gives me your
blue.

you're as beautiful as those two things...

The life of a lonely poet...

A product of the moving circus,
a round of games in endless circles;
I'm still searching for purpose with a pocket
full of dreams, and old family curses.

That's me; like the tree of my family;
quick to leave when there's no options after plan B.
On a money diet; counting ribs of poverty,
in these busy restaurants; dreaming to swipe for meals
with my eyes closed honestly.
It's been so long; since I've been in a space of thought
were I actually belong.
Been a minute since I've written for so long; that the words
flow into a song.

The life of a lonely poet...

The skies of his life; turns a different shade of blue,
as he sees everything so beautiful in a different view.
The oceans must have kissed the tips of the sky;
all of which happens inside of his mind.
"I've got sometime to write," he tries to make the most of it,
over some work wi-fi.

Writing about a wife with his talented hand;
a love, a tradegy, a dream; mostly writing about
the things he kind of has or had.
Past tense; into future tense, but the present tense;
are all things being so intense.

The best painters of love, are those not in love,
just a picture in their head of love's sort of.
"I kind of; know how it feels,"
but a lonely poet is just writing to the audience's appeals.

Is anything real?

The life of a lonely poet...

So vicious; like the bites of those rough
kisses. That sinking bite on the lips, of a longest kiss.
So wet as two sinking ships; as the kisses are so deep.
He wishes he was writing for a physical Miss,
and having her straight after; and the taste of her lips.

Oh what a life of a lonely poet...

Now...

I can't sleep; because of it.
I can't wake up happy; because of it.
I can't breathe; because of it.
I can't move; because of it.
I can't eat; because of it.
I can't live; because of it.
I can't make new friends; because of it.
I can't be alone; because of it.
I can't deal with large crowds; because of it.
I can't be me; because of it,
But I'm not defined as a person; because of it.

I'm not worthless; because of it.
I'm not weak; because of it.
I'm not a fool; because of it.
I'm not an outcast; because of it.
I'm not less of a dreamer; because of it.
I'm not the only one suffering; because of it.
My life's struggles may be the cause of it,
But I'll do so many things because of it.

I'll choose to push on; because of it.
I'll choose to smile; because of it.
I'll cry at night sometimes; because of it.
I'll constantly be inspired; because of it.
I'll craft masterpieces; because of it.
I'll comfort others in the same boat; because of it.
I'll continue to be the advocate for change; because of it.

And my depression is the cause of many things;
all the good, bad and moderate.

As all you see of me; is because of it.

Hope swerving; bending my thoughts of life
in it's curving lane. A game of gain, that not everybody
wants to play. Escaping from the day, or days; looking
for change in these ancestral chains. These are the shackles, keeping me in constant battle. Wearing my weight as a satchel; I constantly have to dismantle myself; to reach the top of successes great mantle.

Life's a rattle; shaking you at the core. Follow it's lore; and
be careful not break all of it's many laws. You'll get so many scars, and sores. Opening moments, opening and closing doors;
as you constantly walk along on life's floors with your flaws.
Happy moments galore; but also the saddest ones creeping up
on the low.

You'll cry to the Lord of it all; His lifting spirit keeps you up
when the soul falls. He's a calming voice to all of His children
he calls. You'll be in awe, letting Him guide you to where you
need to go. A lot of what he does you can't ignore. "Be patient
child; there's a lot in store. Blessed are the poor."

There's no valley too deep, or it's mountains to tall. But life
has it's many walls; we all have to face. Cracking knuckles
a couple times, till that wall breaks. It's not a mistake, or a
place to misplace how far you've come from that starting place.
Whether from the maybe, or maybe not; of the choices you've made. We've each got our choices to make.

Love grips the crowd like a glove. Some that are fed sweet nothings, while others starve. All the lights of these stars; like rushing traffic in space. Rushing like cars in a chase. Love feels like a rush of a race; trying to keep those emotions going straight in it's lane. Wild hearts trying to keep tame, with their hormones often the one's to blame. "Such a shame."

It's the rush of love; but is it enough to love someone more than you can give? To live only on the feelings love gives; wanting all
that's out there, but refusing to give in. Giving it at your best;
but ask a lover about their ex. They'd say, "my current is the best from the rest." What can you expect; of a lover's treasured love buried deep down in their chest?

An itch at the neck; nerves telling me to double check at my deck. Just in case my next play has me going, "what the heck!"

What's my next calling card in this play game of gain? Seems I'm
back at it's start once again.

All of the sounds;
fading slowly into the background,
the sound of love; swish, only a rush nowadays.
Too many breaking up, down on their feelings
of being down on their luck.

Could make you go, "what the f..k"

But I heard they were looking for things
they couldn't find. Vroom, vroom.
Long trips at night; two kids driving down a hill,
about to live their life. Making out with one hand on the
steering wheel. Stirring their will; with tough love bites
leaving a wheal.

Mxwah, mxwah.

"Let's just enjoy the thrill,"
following each other's commandments. They both know the drill;
of hanging their clocks, with some time to ****.

Chirp, chirp.

Birds in the early morning of the season;
deep emotions their love has; but they keep on swimming.

SPLASH!

"Do you think this feeling will last," she had to ask.
In the relax of paradise; with no memories to
the past. Past the times of counting seconds to finally
meet.

Tic Toc,

Waiting by the corner of her house; waiting for him to
pick her off the street. They kiss to greet. Tss.
They give one on each other's cheek.

Sip, sip.

Of that strong black coffee at their favourite café,
they've been there a couple of days; and it's become
their favourite place. He licks his lips, "I need to ****"

Vvvvrrr, vvrr, splat. Splash!
goes the vibrating tap; to give his hands a rinse.

I forgot to mention that baggage of bags under
their eyes. They've been driving all night.
aauggh, he quickly yawns.

Where has the time gone; felt like they've been stuck
listening to the same song.

The envelope message of eloping away from their parents,
they're living so careless. A couple more miles from a
borders freedom. She's breathless; while he's restless.

On the highway, his eyes pull down; and the car pulls
away to the side. CRASH! BOOM!

Nobody is left alive. Just the sound of a risky love, and no
sounds of life.

Now all we have is the sound of silence.


                                                  END­

Love sticking to my side,
it's a sidekick,
I could hear all of your thoughts,
maybe I'm just physic,
Just loving the quiet moments on the bed;
music in the back, and a mix of playlists. I
know you'll definitely like it.

Like how; were not talking; but
listening to each other's thoughts.
Resting heads; in our company of vacations,
who needs the resorts?
Getting lost with my words; when I found you,
red cheeks; long texts at night, falling asleep
online. Till the messages both turn blue.
Calvin Harris fans; both screaming, "I feel so
close to you"

We're both on the moon; reflecting on
our bright moments of life. Getting stuck in between
time, kissing you in the afternoons. In between
working hours; having you for lunch. My bosses
are out; so I'm pressed for pressing my luck.
Take your time to strut;
you still don't have to do too much.

Just let me enjoy you; enjoying being you.

the moon is blue over the ocean,
her tears that fills the hole,
now reflecting what it is,
a blue blur,
so sad; but so hard to see.

Reoccurrence; oh do I deserve it's again? Of love,
of time, of hope, of faith, of promise, and the beauties
of my yesterdays...

Reoccurrence; oh do I deserve it's again? Of grace,
of joy, of peace, of forgiveness, and the dreams of
my former slumbers...

Reoccurrence; oh do I deserve it's again? Of you,
of when we once loved, of our youth, and the desire
of a forever...

Of us; in the seasons of summer. The warmth of knowing
your bright smile. Of the spring; in the skips of steps towards
a future.

Do any of which; ever reoccur as like memories... Or are we
just moments; soon to be forgotten..

Will I reoccur in those memories...

Making appearances; in all of the experiences in this crazy
life. Sigh! I can't wait for the end of the show; the curtain
call to their standing applauds. "Oh what a show"

Raise up the glass; and let's forget about the past in this night,
like it was all our last. I sit back and laugh; smiling about the
few true friends I can count on my hand. I'm a slave to the trend;
of dreaming about the beginning to my end.
I've never been to the end of my life's journey, but it's a place I'll one day have to go. "Oh what a show"

The caught in between moments; running cameras, except in these darkest moments. At times feeling like the loneliest. Cheesy writings; melting on the knobs of being the corniest. And I'm about to be the bomb in the near future; with my successes about to blow. "Oh what a show"

Telling all of my kids, "there's a couple of girls I should have kissed." Kiss them goodnight ; after telling them my life's story
just for me relive. Give them grief in the morning; when Papa
can't wake up on his feet. And how I die, better be the same way
I lived. In peace. My death would be my family's low, but a higher place is where I must go. "Oh what a show"

So here's my final curtain call. I hope they'll all enjoy that show.
Holding weight on the wait to give their applauds. Hold onto
yourself, your words, your all and soul. Let me say my final goodbyes; just before my time to go.

And let me give them all a show.

Please pardon me; when I say, "it's all of me, all of me."
That's just the pride that swallows me; every time you love on
me, hug on me, each time we're cuddling, and snuggling. The
pretty scars look so ugh-gly; and that's not what I want my love
to be; honestly.

Making me wonder, "what the F," of the effort I'm taking; no
mistaking the fools of swine eating bacon. That's the charity
of clarity; giving your heart to all of the crowds, of all those
boys you met around. You've been around. Chasing circles
of where to be; as it seems. Dogs chasing tails; till it gets stuck
in your teeth. There's no peace, but the piece of sorrow; when your feelings were deceased. Diseased by the love sickness; as random kisses was the weakness to your knees.

I'm begging you please,

to stop pretending; that you're not trying to save up your worth
overspending; never-ending story of the people having the seconds of love's sequel. I'm a prequel to thought. What words are in the courts. All the illegal things that we bought; while breaking a few laws. I'm now allergic to a thought, of you giving me goosebumps in my pores.

I paused...

So you could stop playing my heart. Love loves to play with my
heart.

I paused...

Love loves to play with my heart.  Tell me when does it stop?