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278 · Jan 14
fasting
the start of the conversation, and you're yelling,
"where has your *** been,"

  he gives you headaches, you're
                addicted to aspirins.

but really what you're asking him,
is whether he was out with the boys relaxing —

he always says, "no, I was just running late"

you tell him straight,
"listen here boy, please stop feeding
me more lies,
              I'm fasting"
277 · Sep 2024
Hate Missing You
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2024
“I miss you,”
And that’s the fact I hate the most- aggrieved
By every memory of us, every grain of our love
Even if it was for a short while, cos for a short while,
I felt so happy to experience love again, to smile
Because someone made me smile, to laugh with
Someone in private, even if its for the silliest of things

                                                                                                    “I miss you,”
                                   And that’s the fact I hate the most- and it’s in such
                               an uncomfortable experience, that the mind tends to
                                 wonder in all its what if’s— but more so, I question
                            myself of whether I was the one more in love than the
                                                                                   both of us combined…

                                                    “I miss you,”
                           And that’s the fact I’ll always hate the most.

277 · Oct 2024
Lying to myself
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2024
Adios— and kudos to those we wished to have known better;
those we could have cherished more deeply than the first
lovers who introduced us to the art of Love.

Fit me in your glove of memories, holding onto the finest
moments of your past— walk me along the winding journey of
your heart. That road, with its unexpected twists and steep climbs,
that even the purest of all love encounters, has its share of bumps
and hiccups. Hic— all those hickeys you tried to conceal beneath
a high collar, were mere whispers of affection hidden from prying
eyes. Yet, I never felt the need to mask my own; it was as if I was
denying a piece of the love I always held onto- for a period.

In the flavour of unspoken words—we rarely conversed
face-to-face; instead, we lost ourselves in endless texts and phone
calls. Reflecting on that frustrates me, for I could pour my heart
into a fleeting love poem, while the words I longed to share in
person danced just out of reach, trapped by my mouths writer's block.

The hopeless romantic hopes for love just as fiercely, but it
feels hopeless as those who feign strength right after their
hearts have been broken. Its so easy to lie to yourself.
277 · Jan 5
The immortal pen
Lay me to rest with my pen in hand, for the heavens shall serve
as my canvas, where with each stroke of ink, I will inscribe my
aspirations upon their billowing clouds - visible to all who gaze
skyward.

And as the rain descends, may it cleanse not only the tangible
world but also the abstract doubts that linger in the minds of my observers.

Through the permanence of my written legacy in the sky, let the
wisdom I have gathered extend beyond time and space. May it act
as a guiding beacon for the inexperienced, illuminating the path
forward amidst their uncertainty and ambiguity

                 ...my hand shall hold this immortal pen.
277 · Feb 22
Tearful flower
You grew out of my eyes – wild, and wet
you held the weight of my pain;

Carrying my tears after the rain
  the white lotus after my pain’s rain.
276 · Jan 2023
Come to meet
Odd Odyssey Poet Jan 2023
~

"Come let us meet"
she had said hidden under the sheet
Her's that were her enticing cheeks
strings of lace—red violet
Barely enough fabric to cover the fabric
of her bare skinned *******
An uneased bite lip seemed so violent,
bodacious; a body bold in fair skin tone
She feels like a fountain of youthful desire
a running waterfall of natural causes
But for this night, a night she wants
to be owned
By his planet size to conquer her world

"Come let us meet"
as if in secret, knowing the wrongs
that feel so right
Kissed in a whisper,
blissful as a dream
Foxy; let yourself chase it's tail
dig into my flesh by the trap of sharp
teeth—lover's snare
Show no mercy, be possessive,
needy, greedy
Pulling my hair, but treat me
as yours with care
I have a bone to pick
and a place to put it
"Right there"

"Come let us meet"
in this moment's little speak
And shall I have a taste of you on
my lips, to meet your meat
Taste of my skin
sensitive, a pen click
in and out
Pressing your fingers on ****
a tongue kiss; circling around
laps until the race is complete

"We will meet"
close the window of your heart,
pull the curtains over your soul
Turn the lights down low,
and I'll light the candles with my words
And we can keep each other warm,
away from the outside snow
Burning bodies to the call;
yearning passions as my flesh itches
being bitten by a smitten love bug
My body in a rush,
throbbing in a rhythmic hard drive
For your body is a journey,
an adventure; I'm so pleased to enjoy the ride

I only want you tonight!

~
275 · Oct 2024
Will I see you again
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2024
Tears cast shadows; I can still hear your quiet sobs echoing
in the night; the love etched into your skin is crumbling under
the weight of this love game, much like a fragile house of cards.
Could I offer you a more favourable deal at discovering love?
Do you still recognize the beauty that resides within you, or have
the echoes of those who captured your heart dulled your shine,
leaving only the sting of their betrayal?

I’m on a quest to find the melody that resonates with your heart;
though it feels as elusive as seeking out David’s hidden chord.
It’s as if your inner strength has been severed, much like Samson’s
locks. But if I were to gently knock on the door of your heart, would
you welcome me in, or would you push away my advances, toppling
the pillars that support my pride? I can’t help but wonder if I’ll
ever see you again.
274 · Sep 2024
#She
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2024
I reach for her- so lost
she waits for me to rise up to the occasion
but I am an escalator with a line so long,
She takes my hand- so warm
breathes on my neck, to the sting of its cuts
desperately sinning; these eyes being so cutthroat  

I feel her in my mind- overthinking
wondering if my actions push her away when
she senses that my mind speaks out of another
She slips from my eyes- I’m crying
afterwards she kisses my eyelids, granting me
the ease to show my true face; it feels so strange

She is not like the rest- her sleep disrobes me
as I watch her pleasantly sleeping by my side;
I take care of her as my wife, love her as a sister
protect her as my child, respect her as my superior
hold her close as a piece of my heart, close away all
that tries to harm her as a barrier door-

I have no sense of fear when she’s around, but
I am so fearful of who will take care of her
when I’m finally gone
273 · Aug 2023
Just a poem.
Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 2023
I'm just a frame of reality,
painted by the harsh brush strokes of life,

Black and white;
the grey areas are just the many things
I don't know- or try to paint over with just my words

                                         I'm just a poem!
273 · Dec 2024
Aftermath
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
__

Put me in place of your heart with no coaster –
unguarded and raw; leaving behind my watermarks.
Elevate it to the brilliance of the one who reignited its
passion, revealing the architect of new love.

I shall attune myself to the melancholic rhythm of
your heartbeats, my fingers gliding over your skin,
eyes closed, crafting your visage in the canvas of my mind.

Even as your kiss bares the cold of your pain,
bestow upon me a devastating kiss, and I vow to ignite
your heart, even if it means extinguishing my own flame.

Must you smother me any less than you’d
love to do, even as the tendrils of your intoxicating
poison envelop me in a silent demise?

Yet, I would pen odes of devotion to you,
sorrowful stanzas of my longing, only to
weep for them in the aftermath.
273 · Dec 2024
Grace above the grave
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
Treading upon the fragile shards of time;
moments cascade into oblivion, as the echoes
of my bones resonate with the agony of existence.
I seldom boast of my worth, yet my lips dared to speak
with courage. I sought my place among the stars, wandering
the glassy avenues where the imprint of your steps lingers
upon the meticulously laid path.

My mind, burdened by the weight of stony tears,
contemplates the thoughtless utterances that birthed
yet another futile verse. At times, I find myself gasping beneath
the suffocating pillow of my own uncertainties, surviving on
the fragile threads of hope, faith, and fleeting joy that last but
a week; still, I feel like an intruder in my own sanctuary.

Dreams drown in the merciless shadows;
the dawn's light offers them a glimmer of hope – a sanctuary
for the spirit among the awakened. I drift in a half-sleep,
daydreaming amidst a throng of fellow dreamers, our youthful
skins too tender to fade, a heart yearning to be filled with cherished
memories.

These sins bind humanity in shackles,
desperately seeking an escape from the labyrinth of their minds.
Oh, is existence truly madness? Yet, in spite of the suffering,
we pray to live another day. And so this fragment of life is
my grace, a testament to the fact that I have yet to meet the grave.
273 · Mar 2
The Pen
The pen –
is an extension of my body, held by my hand, as it
beats with my heartbeat; it's my very breath between
words, the intentions of my structuring, the brush to
my thoughts, the paint of my imagination.

The pen –
is the mic to my voice, the scope of my eyes, the chorus
to my soul, the bass to my heart, the shadow of my skin,
painted by the night, and why my pen chooses to be black!

It is bold, it is wild, it is persuasive, it manipulates words
to invoke change, it is controversial, it is understood by
few, yet it speaks to all.

The pen is an extension of my body –  for we are One!
273 · Dec 2024
Friends by the handful
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
__

Genuine friends are much rarer than the fingers on
one hand — as only a handful can be counted upon.
They could be as numerous as the stars scattered
across a moonlit expanse, yet only a select few truly
cast their glow upon our lives.
273 · Jun 2022
Choices
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2022
Holy or holey,
fired up or just a cloud of smoke?
A cigarette or lamp; which light represents
the light of your heart?

Action of words or just words on display,
practice what you preach, reap what you sow.
Do both in the actions of your word;
do justice to each apart.

Blowing in the wind or lead the pack ahead of it,
needle in a haystack, or a compass needle?
Teach the teachers to be teachers of teachers;
lead the followers into tomorrow's leaders.

Oppressed or blessed,
crowd pleaser or the brave out of the rest?
The freedom of chains to freely foster the shackled;
those thought to feel alone.

Rich or richness,
do you chase money or qualities of deep cares?
Fortune isn't based on possession, or deep pockets;
the worth of people should be your care.

Urban or rural,
high class, low or moderate; tears taste the same.
We all cry, bleed, and die without our wealth.

We all have choices to make.
272 · Nov 2024
Unscripted
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2024
The air crackled; pre-*** tenses – with unspoken tension between
their eyes;  “please tell me you didn’t.” —a silent pause, “well, I’d
rather not,” he replied, a hint of passive aggression lurking
beneath his own shy’s.

“Can we talk about it either way,” —a silent pause, “absolutely not!
There’s nothing left to say; it’s all over, just like I am,” – he struggles
to find the right words to send her away.

“I refuse to give up, because giving up means allowing you to drown
in your own doubts– hey, it happens; but it won’t change how I feel.
Love is friction, but let’s not compare its love life to fiction. All films
are written, but our lives are unscripted”

"Let's just promise ourselves to talk about these things"
271 · Jan 7
A poem of old lovers
the scent of love has detached from my heart
a fallen leaf from a tree no longer bearing ripe fruit –
and I rest watching the other’s love blossom
off into the distance

and

an old lover’s kiss carries the scent of love
by the wind in between two lips – a secret kept
between the two… forever, lest they meet again

oh, what a great pain it would be.
271 · Nov 2024
Sorry, my sponge is beating
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2024
This soft heart I say, can feel like a curse,  
For all the times it soaks up the hate, oh, how it hurts!
As with each tear that I shed,  
It all feels heavy, heavy like lead,  
Till the floodgates burst forth in a verse.  

And I must tell you,

A soft heart is like a sponge, it takes every cut,  
An open heart: a vibrant marketplace; so never to shut!
But it was once vibrant and bright,  
Now it feels so dilapidated from fight,  
Yet still it beats on, as a true work of art.
271 · Jun 2021
Ode to broken hearts
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2021
Quite evident, broken hearts tend
not to love again.
Loves in the air,
question is, will you breathe it in again?
Evident in those past experiences,
we hope this time it will be real to the very end.

Tis with a broken heart,
you fear so much to love.
But don't leave it to chance,
those not willing to find love, how do you
know it's time to give up?
The pain of such, is quite deep.
But as much as it hurts, out there is your missing piece.

It's all but a moment of hurt,
which feels endless, especially if
they were your first.
But you don't find the sparks of love without a few times of getting burnt.

To all the broken hearts in the world,
out there in this lonesome earth is
someone you deserve.

Don't be afraid to, SEARCH!
Misery demands a body; heartbreak offers up a heart as a
sacrifice— each coffin yearns for a cherished soul to inhabit, while
debt grins at those ensnared by their own habits, and corporations
thrive on the cravings of the addicts. Time adorns you with the
weight of years, branding you as “old fashioned,” we reach out to the
device of compassion via empathy —witnessing another's tears, we
absorb their grief…

To glimpse another's scars ignites our own anxieties, as we hastily
conceal our own cuts—solitary confinement paints a vivid portrait of
physical loneliness. A multitude of contacts on my phone can never
provide real physical contact. In genuine connection, some among
you only seek to uncover something valuable within us—they'll
transform you into Wi-Fi.


Thrusts of passion that follow our parting leave gaping holes in the
heart— a love that finds fulfilment in affliction; is this the tragic
affliction of love? It means nothing to love beauty, comfort, or success
—we all love things that are pleasing; but aren’t so pleased when
those very things abandon us.

Only the courageous dare to love the aged, the ill, the downtrodden;
the impoverished, the scorned, the grotesque; the unappealing, the
foolish, and the faltering— we all navigate the same turbulent waters,
yet we row at varying paces. Still, life can be astonishingly beautiful
at times – if you choose to see it.
270 · Jul 2024
Debt 2
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2024
I’ve got:
Horns for thoughts; and feelings that are for the vague
Glass for eyes, their tears are just old memories of dreams
A nose exhaust, blowing hot smoke to cool off the engine
A beard of grass; hoping the waters of time helps it grow

I’ve got:
A void for a smile; a darkness that quietly hides away in the pit
Quiet lips made out of violin strings; a humble refrain to play
A mighty sword for words, with a bold voice so cutthroat
And each breath is ******; being an inch of one’s lost vanity

I’ve got:
Wrists like a heavy grey cloud; a sleeve that can easily bleed
Fingers made of needles; an unfortunate hold pinned to the present
Denim for skin; the dyed hues of generations stuck in my genes
Moss for a heart; a love only by the surface- no seeds to grow

I’ve got:
Bones made out of dust; can’t clean the stain of sin by myself
Ginger in my soul; aromatic- filled with a vigour of liveliness
But this body is so meagre; so eager to find new means to grow
But I don’t own a piece of it, at all- I’ve borrowed it for a time,
An agreement with life; as sleep is the middleman and death
Is the Great debt collector…
269 · May 2024
People are truly the worst
Odd Odyssey Poet May 2024
Truly for truly, did they not often feel
like everyone’s personal convenience.
So convenient for people to know them, — just to be
what’s in store, for them all to buy into their dreams.

How convenient; suiting people’s purposes so well;
well enough, as a worn-out suit; to suit those only in
a matter of addressing their personal battles, grievances,
qualms and historical hurts.

It must be so frustrating, to see the reflection of such pain
in these eyes; painted red from every tear we all had cried.
A mask in disguise; a disgust in the discussion of how
their given something, is looked later on as purely NOTHING.

Truly for truly, it must be worth the hurt,
for us to repeatedly be the better person,
around those who only give you and I the worst.
People are truly the worst; and so too
must be loved the most.
269 · Nov 2021
Life is sweet
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2021
Cotton candy;
of my sweetest dreams,
I taste whenever I fall asleep.

So splendid to be alive;
even in the sour moments,
of this treat of life.

All the shapes and lines;
taught the birds and bees,
the nestling of love,
and nectar of love's
pretty flower.

Life is sweet,
just a bite could tickle
anyone's teeth.

Find your peace;
and a piece of life,
to stick on your lips.


                       This sweet life.
269 · Nov 2022
Rules of life
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2022
ashes, dust, rust

we burn out
we return to earth
and our possessions decay in time

everything will live,
everything will die

these are Rules of life
268 · Oct 2021
Perceive
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2021
Perceive, triest understand love;
      As a child, seeing many try;
As a young adult, I made my attempt
      Following in man's knowledge.

      Spoken, was their love;
Yet with a tongue rolled under itself
      Seen, some have claimed;
But without center of an apple's eye.

      Some do hid to mind;
But quickly listen to heart's feeling
      As only a few;
Hold truth, facing love's grip trap.

      One by one we fall,
Into the deepest parts of love
      For a large and long,
Number of us at a time fell in love.

      A nose dead cold;
Running it through snow
      At the highest of emotions,
But no being can subdue its drug.

      For love is many,
Beautiful, tragic, joyous, painful
      Maddening, sentimental, wicked
Ignorant, wholesome, challenging.

      But what then is love,
If not perceived as all understood?
267 · Oct 2021
Flower Girl
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2021
By an
attraction of scent-
Felt myself being called.
I fell into sweet embrace
  called into its descent.
    
Conspicuous;
truly is made up of her face-
Beauty so heavy onto a Rose.
All that's seen; open to the eye
All soon to be exposed.
              
So I then
picked one as bitter sweet-
And was quickly cut by thorns.

I learnt recently

how she knows       her worth
Truly rooted           to ground
  and down            to Earth;
A flower girl.
267 · Feb 2023
/wɔː/ /teɪp/ [War tape]
Odd Odyssey Poet Feb 2023
Sounds & pictures,
for the records to show
—today we're going to war

Grenade hearts; with all their
pent up emotions ready to explode
The sounds of guns in orchestra
of a thousand applauds
Ashes have made grey the floor;
as the after smoke chokes the globe

Parachutes blanket the sky,
black navy teal,—the day becomes night
Darkness roams behind a gun,
and with it's might, dissipates a man's sight
Blinded by foreshadowing, what follows
through, is it's omen painted black of blight

Pools of blood, shallow to a charging foot
marching armies depart blades of grass
from it's root

Children who sing songs with a gun
dancing unarmed under the sun
Thinking it's just a toy for fun;
what has this world become, but the result
of being the victim in front of the gun

                          ...we're killing our earth
Means we alone are just killing ourselves
266 · Apr 10
Everyday
Yesterday will always be yesterdays –
Today’s are just one day;
Every tomorrow is a day we’ll never know

These are all our Everyday’s.
266 · Mar 2022
I guess...
Odd Odyssey Poet Mar 2022
I guess...

I used to wish that I could die young;
but of late it's just been outdone,
As life is no fun. Gambling it all out with
no funds.

But what if I died young,
or whatever people considered young?

How tragic would be,
since that's been the reoccurring theme?
From burying adults and teens. These week
we're burying kids.

I guess...

I don't have any real tears; but just the eyes
of so many questions.
"If we're worth so much, why can't I cry
when those who die were so precious,"
my heart asks only in it's lonely confessions.

Would you hate me if I sigh,
when you tell me a loved one died?
Would you expect me to cry,
when I say, "oh, another death idly passing by,"
And would you expect me to have the words,
just for me to say, "oh, never mind."

I guess...

You'll probably think I'm a terrible guy.
But I'm sorry. I've just lost so much,
I don't think I've got the time to cry.
You can dig into my chest to find emotions,
but I wouldn't say they're all mine.

But why do I rhyme about death,
because the end words help me not focus
on somebody's last dying breath.

Yes,
that's not a good way to cope with death,
but I find it best. Than to be searching for
feelings that will overwhelm my chest.
But maybe I'm just a mess?

I guess...
266 · Jun 2022
Time to love
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2022
We take slow drives to nowhere;
Towards a Sunday drive, with your heavenly kisses
On my lips. I close my eyes, being out of touch, out of time,
out of lines, and all out of rhymes.

As I head outwards into space; on my Tuesday highs,
Feeling so warm at heart, but I can’t stay inside,
But maybe I’ll love you by this Thursday’s vibe,
Comparing our loves for things we both like,

And kiss in rhythm;
Until our tongues dance on each other,
But there’s never enough time...Only of the one
You and I make together.

Let's make the time to love.
265 · Jan 2022
Entail; as of hearts
Odd Odyssey Poet Jan 2022
My soul is tortured;
taught sure of many men's misfortune.
Black gods of the minds
who portrayed them,
And at times;
their faith given a Judas kiss that betrayed them.

In every awe of today;
tis the wonder of a tomorrow.
As in the outcomes shock;
is a lose of power.

To then live on,
at times is a game of chance.
All will watch every eggshell step,
but are forced into Death's little dance.

Life is but what looking glass
you view it as,
But it all cracks in time;
losing it's colour like winter's grass.

Whether to land on your feet,
or bend on your knees;
Only you of your heart,
knows your life's needs.
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2021
And what then, has determined our life' tragic rule?
      O' how this world and it’s people are so cruel
untied shoes laces,
all on the fallen feet,
of all the world’ youth
Lost following trailed
footprints of their fools.
     For you can take a horse to a river, but can’t
force it to drink. As you may lend a man a thought
        But who’s to say, for himself; he’ll learn how to think?
265 · Feb 23
Rest
Sleep always feels owed; one’s life
cannot be fully owned –
As we look for this complete rest, do you
rest your weariness on those you trust;

For even as sleep is the cousin of death;
would you still deny yourself true rest?


And do you deny the comfort of advice
from a true friend –
Or do you sleep on their words, under
the covers of your pride?
264 · Oct 2021
Pillowcase
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2021
My love for you is-
a soft pillowcase;

And I've tasted all-
of your tears;

As you're putting
yourself to rest;

So at ease when
I'm holding your face

       Sleeping in my embrace.
264 · Mar 2021
Necessary facts.
Odd Odyssey Poet Mar 2021
Dark reflections is only our past,
the light on the other end
Is the future ahead.
These aren't reasons to live,
rather necessary facts.
264 · Sep 2022
We all burn! 🔥
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2022
As to be; a righteous figure, but to always
be burned by the world? Or the vilest breed,
in successful pits, but burning in Hell?
I guess we're all going to burn in each side of choice
in the end. You live by the sword, to die with
it—you live with the shield, to only defend.
You are the sly player, or played by the game.
They either call great of your name, or scold you in a
greatly shame. You are the writing on the writing of
the wall, or the wall to fall of rite.
You are the ruler of the dark, or the blind display
ornament sitting in a light.
You are the anthology of misery after success, or an
unabridgement of joy before loss. The mistreated employee,
or heartless boss. —Life is unfair—good intentions are rare.
And as to be; a righteous figure, but to always be burned
by the world? Or the vilest breed, in successful pits, but
burning in Hell? We all burn!
264 · Jan 7
silent room
in the silence of my room… I
dance the loudest,
pray the longest
cry the ugliest,
laugh the modest,
dream the youngest,
stare at empty walls for promise,
break down the strongest,
overthink within a guilty conscience,
play out my scenarios worthy of their flowers
planting fields of doubt for all my anxieties
to have a fruitful harvest

in the silence of my room… I
am truly at my honest.
Tell me what is it like to close my eyes
against the brilliance of your smile,
Yet I still feel it’s warmth on my skin?
Like a breath held in full anticipation,
I can’t wait to take you in, before letting
you out; just to find my natural peace.

Those intense stares, sending shivers
down my spine, walking round the corners
of uncertainty within me – you remind me
Of a picture of glass stairs, that leads straight
to your heart; yet each step must be taken with
the utmost caution– you are delicately beautiful.

Each dawn, I find myself quietly haunted
by the memory of your tender caress,
The remnants of yesterday’s air infused
with your essence, drifting into the promise
Of tomorrow – I wonder at which moment you
will unveil your love for me, as one might
delicately pluck the petals of a flower.

“She loves me, she loves me not…”
I am still unravelling that enigma.
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2022
There's a cloud—dark, gloomy tower in
the very distance. With echoes of heavy thunder,
and the growing flashes of lightning.
A cough to shake the heavens; as in the smell of
dew—it's due a season of the washing away of old.
Overflow; I speak this overflow. As in after the Storm,
cones the smell of growth. To wait patiently
on the Lord—as he is revealed behind, and of been
working through the storm.
261 · Dec 2020
Broken seconds
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2020
By the time any read this
time to me would have again fade.
Like a disappearing act
a lot to me goes to waste
As I too waste much of my time.

I'm like a broken seconds hand
while the other two move forward in time
Circling round me in this endless cycle,
always feeling left behind.

Friends are ahead in life
bright smiles and cheers
I'm left in the dark
broken somehow, but I don't know what.
Wishing I could trade in some smiles over these tears.

Another cycle in life
goes round my broken clock
It ticks away, but fails to tock,
as it's cogs are rusty and antique
Rubbing only more strain to another,
pieces that once had a gleam, no longer blick.

I break so many times
but try not to stay broken
I felt weak as a youth
Low and down with the soil,
it scared me that will one day be my end,
When I get too old.

What if the parts of my clock
can't be fixed
Will I just be broken seconds
lost in time, or lost in my self destruction
Why hurt yourself so many times
just to see if you're still working?

I'm only trying to work on myself,
to fix the tiny pieces slipping through the cracks
Even when I crack a smile,
there's a bigger crack behind it.
It ticks away,  cracks into tiny tocks,
I pray to be fixed,
and put back together from my broken parts.
261 · Dec 2024
Ember kisses
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
_

Do our lips & fingertips ignite
the searing heat of our kisses—
like glowing embers of a dying fire?

Your tender whispers linger,
a constant flame that consumes me.
Every passing moment, the chasm between us widens…

The fire of longing blazes within me in your absence,
it blazes even more fiercely when you are near.
261 · Nov 2024
Circles
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2024
Landed on my own footsteps, I must I've been waking
in circles – with my gaze lowered. I crafted another poem,
weaving it with the chords of a guitar hidden beneath
my tongue, and shared a golden joke for the silver lining
of my soul.

My eyes, like polished bronze, seek a third reason to embrace
love, — fully aware of how swiftly I would chase after it, if
it dared to stay just out of reach. Oh, his path remains an
endless circle.
260 · Dec 2024
Hatchets
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
I… was a dreamer trapped in a haunting nightmare,
a paradox of hope and despair; drying out these tears
with pieces of nothing – don’t fare so well crying in public.


These eyes are the window, to all unspoken fears,
cloaked in silence.


I… am a war between two formidable forces of always
wanting to embrace the world with love, and also the
fear of rejection that longs to keep me so vaguely isolated.

Stuck in this place, to stay and acknowledge,
all the time buried beneath the grains of time...

Yet another dug up watch with these bare hands –
I could have buried so many hatchets, only if I never
hesitated burying the prior ones time and time again.
260 · Apr 16
An Island bed
The empty space in my head tries to dream again
When faith starts to be my friend again
Oh, I’m not the same – a careless friend

The empty space in my heart tries to love again
When the feeling of love can be felt again
Oh, I’m not the same – a heartless mate

The empty space in my hand tries to feel again
When I lost a touch with myself again
Oh, I’m not the same – a hopeless mess

These empty stars will find me once again –
As my body rests on these foreign lands
I love to sleep on this Island bed.
260 · Oct 2022
Admiration
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2022
The glee of joy
   Was a smile stolen under a cheek
A child of the sun as
   They brightly smiled at the:
Glass amber—fragile as time itself

    Precious became such a moment
And named her too
    Dear Precious, dearest first daughter
Now today born

I shall sow the land, tending the wheat
    Laying the gardens watered by my tears
    Placing at you reason to sing glory of provision
I’ll unmask the stars
   To make of a place to place your fears

Sweetly, sweetly shall my songs be as a quiet moon
   The cool of night—and whispers of good sleep
Oh shall I hold an ocean back, of the wrath of conquering
   For man would pleasuring want you as land
I pray it be the Lord who steals your heart
  Blessing your spoils to be tenfold to all others
Soon are you and I to meet

  So of this piece: saved are the words I have of you
The admiration of you my child
    Is you coming to be; soon, soon shall we meet
260 · Aug 2024
Clay face Poet
Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 2024
I am the Clay, moulded from the tiny grains
Like a farmer of stars, tending to life's plains
My mission is to nurture, to heal every soul
The embrace of my essence; find your whole
  
I flow through existence, a canvas for flight
I lift you to heights, into the boundless light
With each gentle fall, I’ll breathe a life anew,  
From the depths of my spirit, I offer to you

I’ll give of myself, so your spirit won't wane  
Dwell in my heart, find solace from my pain
260 · Nov 2024
Life is a question
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2024
Loll in a realm of no regards, shuffle the game of life like
a deck of cards — playing into the quest to uncover who
you really are. Each life begins with a question:
“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Will I be a nurturing mother? A father who can provide
for their all,” each life begins with a question – especially now,
as we ponder this curious phenomenon called life; is it still
worth it, at all. Cloaked in whispers of our cherished dreams,
the most fragile among us are those who beam brightly, even
with kinked teeth.

The gentle craving for a richer life is as tender as the insides
of our teeth — revealing everything we risk on the overflowing
platter of those we disdain; initially, it was a pleasure to meet.
Yet, I was lost in my role in this world at first – bestowed a name
at birth, still grappling with its significance in a titled world –
entitled!

Don’t we pretend that’s what we deserve even from man’s great
fall, who inherited their sin galore. I question it all. Don’t we
all act as if we deserve it all, even after humanity’s great fall,
which bestowed us a legacy of sin?

                                I question it all.
259 · Aug 2024
Friends
Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 2024
Imposed by a scent of the back chatter,
behind the air of the hair tucked by your ear
once a soul that was merely an imposter
The intense pleasure continues on- waking up
to the sound of dawn; under the thinnest of clouds
thin as butter- as the sunlight spreads across
The edge of their world; as like two legs spread apart
with a promise of a night filled with wet love
Two lips are meeting in the yellow shivers, beneath
the huge gems of eyes, that hold out a jewelled pleasure

The two resting upon a bed made out of barley;
filled in intoxicating lines of brand-new sheets-
The smell of regret only shows as the rise of after cigarettes
The towers of greying tired eyes; numb under the tomb’s
excrete- the cold breathes of kissing with a cold heart,
lifts the fur of a lion’s haunches

***** buckled by the belt wrapped around one’s desire
at another attempt- it’s no stranger, then the grave on
the tongue of a perfectly dead conversation
And about then, he wonders how could he go back to
the past, once where they were just casual friends…
259 · Jan 2021
A search
Odd Odyssey Poet Jan 2021
I know people who
sold their secrets to bottles
That don't taste life
they just swallow.
For me I poured out my heart,
thinking it would be colossal.

When I thought loving was
strange for having me falling
But love can also be like the rain
have tears pouring.
So don't mistake the past,
or erase out the pain, it's all for absorbing.

I've learnt more from past loves
more than what I put in it,
Had a taste of loving someone
though times I didn't believe it.
I've chased feelings till I
got caught by love,
Disregarded  a lot of my ways
just  to have better ones thereof.

Cause love will break you
but makes you who you are,
It's shaped me well, but also
had to leave me with a scar.

We've all been victims to hurt
chasing a buzz,
All taught the birds and bees,
all gotten the gift of love before Xmas.

So whether you drank from a bottle
to drown out your pain
Wrote down your promises, saying
you won't fall in love again.
Know that love will always find you
even when we stop searching,
Time will move on with love,
given time to heal is always assuring.

So to whoever listening
still searching for love outwards
Let the love of your heart heal
you first, finding love inwards.
259 · Oct 2024
Suffocating
Odd Odyssey Poet Oct 2024
Would you teach me how to love a little –
even for the little bit of the time we actually have,
right before you have to let me go…

Even if we end all things being mean to each other
could we share one final kiss, as if the spark of
our love still flickers; to know what love means –

Grant me a love that can lift these tears; pulling the
daggers out from my heart, just to etch your
memory on my skin – even when we’re no longer
connected, these tight knots in my chest suffocate me!
259 · Jan 2021
Suicide
Odd Odyssey Poet Jan 2021
If I **** this world,
is it not suicide.
The same world we live in,
is the same blood of human,
Where we all reside.
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