Church bell ears;
I've heard the holy ring of an unwritten hymn in a minor key
Their piercing eyes, are bites of bullets, all pointed guns
as hands;  pointing out my immoral acts; three shots back
at them and one pointing up to discredit a God

A wrinkled heart,
by the irony of a preach; a church's lancet window,
Stained in sin of an unwritten scripture, and a scripted faith
On top of an unholy pedestal, all ready to cast their first stone,
alongside their own boulders of sin

Oh Lord, even if I don't believe in a God,
I'd believe in a better place than here
So my only prayer is being seen by your eyes,
as one saved from the desiring eye of the world


                                                   Amen.

I follow the path of your memory
like the imprints of lines etched on my arm
after a deep sleep. However, your presence
never rests within my thoughts.

It was the odd hours of a night when the phone rang with an awaited call.
I honestly thought I ran out of ways to love, thought I did it all.
Surely it was that odd point of time.
O'how my desires of holding you tightly were so real. Darling be Mine.

The stars lit up the dark skys and I mistook them to light up your beautiful face.
The phone rang and I immediately knew it was you. I held it with full embrace.
Once that sweet voice spoke, my heart's rythme escalated quickly to a new beat,
O'how that felt so taunting to me,  you had my love for you run down from the tip of my head down to my feet.

And I don't dream to change what has become to be,
Though there were many out there to be found by you, you found me.
After that I was granted the opportunity to fall deep in love with you till I reached the deeps of the Pacific Ocean.
Though I was not born to dance, my heart moved to your movement and every motion.

Love can't be measured by the ends of the short based millimetre ruler.
For that could only be an atom of that measurement. Yet to fill an endless jug, to make it fuller.

And you fill me up with something else, I fully not yet understand,
Still it matters not to me, for that one phone call is all I needed , all that I really had.

Let it ring a thousand times more.
Ring, ring, ring.

Amounts of time given to people
should be equally given back,
Time is fragile like glass
you can lose fragments of seconds.

Love is a gift
more worthy in the present
The moments you have now
could be the very last.

A second to breathe
is a display of your life's capacity
Now,
is the time you make the most of
Later,
is always unpredictable.

All seem lost,
with age we find ourselves
Identity,
builds on self discovery
The journey of life all must take.

You'll lose more than you gain,
hurt plenty more
Than you usually heal
But for all purposes,
we live a life that breaks us
And constantly build overselves much stronger.

Be as it may,
the handbook of life would simply say
Make the most of each and every day.

A man of the many drinks, till the ends of the night the drinks drink him.
From the past, brought up in the mud.  Forgive the dirt I bring as your present.
Be unsettled with so, but don't mind my stay for I'm just the part time resident.

A couple pennies for thoughts, a few dollars for dreams and visions.
Speaking in the silence of the dreams to be.
Still to many ways to lie and many more reasons.

Like ever changing seasons, can't really stick myself to being one.
Warm hearts in the cold winters, cold and gloomy smiles across the summers of beach fun.

On the journey of life, but where to go.
Aching feet, I'd have walked all round in circles.
The troubled heart at times, but in my eyes none would know so.

The abstract pathways make no sense but still could clarify the motion.
As like the waves of sea's, moving back and forth without no ease.
Often a soul of lost, drowning in the depths of a bottomless ocean.

Like action movie scenes, often days are over-exaggerated.
Some things in life are way more than than they seem to be with added details.
Commonly overlooked by a downfall eye and the lies incorporated.

Alas, is the Abstract pathways, acting as a map to guide you nowhere.
How so unfair.

/// Rewinding playback; on a favourite
      cassette tape. CD compact disc changer in
      the glove compartment. Eight track, eight
      miles away from that nostalgic memory of us
                    sort of around the time I was in love \\

Mixtape stories, as they once were,
one story about falling in love—as easily as a leaf falls
to the ground. Looking up to see how far we've come
Falling off track on a marathon of longing to be loved;
probably why I was skipping a few places in life, cos my
disc was scratched

It didn't feel so real in the moment: so fictional; all in the
fixations of an imagery room, filled with unimaginable
dreams. I dreamt about falling in love, but never dreamt
about getting this far

It felt strange, as an anxious mystery before
the next turn of the author's page
Never having the authority to control who we
fall in love with. Regardless, it did not stop me from taking
the authority to buy you flowers- my once pretty flower

"Could she smell my intentions a mile away"
Or rather smell the inexperience I have
when it all comes to love

I could say I love you easily,
but never take it well, being said back in turn
Words of affirmation, non affirmed by an affirmative
upbringing. Never my strongest love language, spoken
only in signs, growls and random sighs
Quickly avoiding a long hug, and saying just a hie

///Hello, opening conversation to an open topic
     in the air. Same place where we all catch a love sickness
     Knees of course in their weakness—mostly blushing
     over each other's sweetness. The tape's signature brown
     memories got tackled up in my heart's radio. Untangled
     now from you—I can't play you anymore to remember it all
                  guessing now it's finally the end of these love tapes \\

      ...but I still love you, for the record

Time doesn’t weigh much — even when you’re fed
every second of it. Food for thought piles up like
leftovers, a full plate of ideas you never quite digest.

We serve our dreams once they wake, laid bare beneath
an open space —hoping stars will shine back on what
we once believed in. But from a distance, everything
looks so harmless — get close enough, and it burns
through our skin. Dreams, truth, love — they all come
with scorch marks when held too long.

Time steals slow, but mistakes move fast. You step
wrong and feel it instantly — unless your pride is
a glass slipper, and you’re too enchanted to feel the
crack. Because it’s one thing to know what you’re
not — you’re not a clock spinning past reason,
you’re flesh and fatigue, and this life… it winds down.

A broken clock still gets it right twice a day — but a
broken person has twice the time to bury themselves
or choose to rise and heal.

So like now I feel empty
and worthless.
Only if and when I give someone their worth
I know what worth is.

"Empty plates
loads of food for thought"
~said the overthinker
"Empty pockets
of a penny for a thought"
~now isn't that rich to the poor

"Empty trees
killing two birds with a stone"
~so said myself with terrible aim
"Empty marathon
I should cut to the chase"
~apologies for the blunt knife

"Empty battleground
always up in arms"
~a man of war only knows a gun
"Empty ears
we're left out in the cold
~no intention to hear my pain

"Empty flame
how to avoid burning bridges
~a man with enlightened wisdom
"Empty dreams
then after I hit the sack
~kept all of my dreams in a bag

                               ....Goodnight

The suffering rest
Too tired of themselves;
An attire of youthfulness
Clueless, individually in a single line
The good and the often bad
Ugly smiles of the richest people
And the expenses of a poverty lifestyle

Butchered words every time two lovers meet
Lost tongues in pointless over talk; kissing
A feeling is always missing, in between inhale
Exhale the distrust of knowing it won't last
The slowest rushes end off so fast

Fasten your heart around a sleeve
Arm your eyes to their usual war
Pleasures of sight will all **** a man
Tickles of speach blinders to woman's focus
Two of which know it's wrong, but want more and more

Drowning always in debt
Believing you owe the world something
An address to a particular subject,—we're all ode
Owed a reason to all our failures
Questions to all unanswered prayers
Heaven owes a lot in the cryptic lyrics of life

But for the moment, this is life in a nutshell
Trying all to bust a nut, sometimes nuts
And one day it will all crack open in the end

For that which I don’t know— built from
the bones of all the words I never spoke.
My life, if summarized, could be a quote:
a borrowed line, or a borrowed joke.
Either footnoted in memory, or discarded
as someone who misquoted hope
___________
Perhaps I’d trade in an error
for a single, shapeshifting era.
But funny how the past echoes loudest
in silence, and how legends live on not
in flesh, but in the offspring of their legacy.

Still— be careful not to jump to conclusions.
Don’t cut off your spring just because
you mistook the thaw for drowning.
And don’t become so quick to sip judgment
that you forget: a half-empty drink
can still quench the right thirst, depending
on who's pouring… and who's parched.
____________
Now there are those who offer their offending
speech like confetti; those whose presence is a
soft kind of peace; a balm, a breath, a quiet release.
Then there are others whose only offering is grief
once a week, wearing Sunday suits but speaking in leaks.

I have grown to value those who live
like arrows— honest, piercing, straightforward.
Not those who bend truth into shapes that fit
their spin, sending stories spinning on a tired wheel,
toward destinations they never meant to reach.
____________
Some speak on others' names with
the boldness of ownership, but it’s all
counterfeit— a forged will, a stamped conviction.

As for me? For that which I don’t know:
it remains a wonder, and I live in awe of it.
But as for some, with their tongue dipped
in certainty; your armour is made of knowing—
but you truly know nothing at all.

Fee-fi-fo-fum— as we weighed love by
an empty ounce, and paid it all back by this
sore pound. They yell: “come now or begone,”
and if you can’t produce the sum for what’s
been done; flee to fine some… or find none.

An anguish in fornication, and a touch that speaks,
but means nothing at all. No real stimulation—
just hunger in the guise of heat, and shame where
love was meant to meet. As some feather-dust their
guilt, pretending to have clean intentions. But we’ve
only used each other to air out our frustrations.

These old recycled themes; ******* from peers,
spilling from worn-out jeans, and spreading
dreams like genes, without real meaning in between
the fabric of time.

But tell me, do you still not see the giant problem?
Or are you too big for yourself, to fully measure up
to your own faults?

Black as an even fair, beautifully paid by the sun's kisses,
I marvel at the mesmerizing tone of your dark skin, akin to
a painting brought to life.

The way the sunlight caresses your complexion reveals a
radiance that is ethereal, as if the heavens themselves have
blessed you with their touch. It is as if the universe conspired
to create a masterpiece, blending the stark contrast of night and
day, merging darkness and light into a harmonious symphony
of beauty.

As the evening sun graces you with its warm embrace, casting
a gentle glow upon your features, it illuminates the hidden
depths within you. Within the lovely twirls of your hair, I see
a multitude of joyous moments interlaced, each strand a testament
to the ebbs and flows of life.

They seem to dance and twinkle, reflecting the light of
your spirit and the resilience that carries you forward.
It is in these majestic tresses that I find solace, a sanctuary where
dreams and aspirations intertwine, creating a symphony of desires.

I swear, with the utmost sincerity and conviction, by the
promises I make to myself and to you, that I shall forever long
for something as rare and precious as you are. Like a cherished
gem, hidden amidst the depths of our motherland's embrace,
you represent the culmination of generations of strength and
resilience. You are the embodiment of the legacy of our ancestors,
who fought tirelessly to reclaim their voices and redefine their existence.
By cherishing you, I honor their sacrifices, carrying their stories
and their bravery within my heart.

The tenderness and care that reside within the depths of my being
compel me to cherish and nurture you with every breath I take.
Your presence evokes a sense of awe and wonder, for you are an extraordinary creation, a queen among queens.
Your regality shines forth in every interaction, radiating grace
and dignity. In my devotion to you, I find purpose and meaning,
a profound connection that transcends time and space.

Loving a black queen runs deep within my soul, permeating
every aspect of my being. It is a love that defies boundaries
and conventions, embracing the fullness of who you are.
In loving a black queen, I celebrate not only the physical beauty
that graces your form but also the strength that flows through
your veins. It is a love that embraces the complexities and
intricacies of your journey, appreciating the layers that
shape your identity.

Together, we create a tapestry of love and understanding,
woven with threads of compassion and resilience.
And in this love, we find the infinite possibilities that lie
within our unity.

Writing words, hoping I'll make a mark.
Truthfully where could I start.
But still, reading through these words see what's deep inside my heart.

Love begins from far beyond, but  never finds an end,
Perhaps wish me Dead
To take any other woman's love to be better than yours instead.
Loving Hugs & Kisses, all the care you gave while tucking me into Bed.

  Your Love never escapes my head.
Proudly I say you're the Best chef I know.
Best doctor with her kisses as the best Med
Seeing you shine helps me to glow.

Giving the best of all your time,
Glad enough to claim you MINE,

Love of such Devine.

Thinking upon the time we've spent together....

Truly Blessed am I,
How could I ever defy
Nor an if to deny.

But honestly just to comply
Of seeing your Love behind your Heart's loving eye.

Just makes say O'my
Till these eyes will fall to cry.

I love you mother so dearly
Of not being just merely
For I seen Love so wide & clearly
Repeating on myself that dear mother I love you DEARLY.

So I say to you, Happy Mother's Day.


                                                         Kas.....

Wild at heart, pretty woman at it's will to tame.
Don't take that to shame,
But perhaps taking from this conversation your name.

Turned the age of eighteen once before thinking I'm the man,
Looking for a piece of love from a girl who's just a fan.

Turned the age of nineteen thinking I grew a little wiser.
But the time had my eye to deceive. Life can be a liar.

Now at twenty waiting for wisdom to reach my feet
Hoping wise not to have those similar mistakes on repeat.

So perhaps as I speak to you, think me childish
Like living on a life of latest fashion trends to seem stylish.

But right now it's my coming of age,
Growing to be the man I am.
Starting my own life story on a fresh page,
Coming to be a True man.

Food for thought,
the harsh truth is the hardest to digest

Nowadays,
people are quick to;
throw hands,
or be under the sun
throwing shade,

                              What a shame

Your heart in my hand,
just for some love to hold onto
Buying into so many dreams before,
something I could never amount to
Feelings that are read in the shades of red;
are all the wonderful stories I heard about you
How do I feel so endlessly lost for words,
now that I found you-
The simple answer:

           "I love you"

Turn off the lights — I’m fighting myself in the dark.
My skin, a caressing sun; roses fall and kiss me
with lip-shaped petals, trying to open me wide.
But they’ll censor you — they’ll look away, so you
don’t shine as bright as you are.

And me? I pluck myself from a group of self-doubts.
At the pace of this age, I slow, though youth fast-feeds
through my hands, trying to unearth green shoots
of heaven’s cheer. A chosen emotion rises — as if my
heart readies itself for a rapture. Earthen hands *****
out dreams from soil. To be called a ***** — or to *****
others? What a question to be.

As I’m plotting in the potting shed, where we shared
hope like dew-struck grass. We watered our dreams
with tears, and have felt baptized in fear. Shaking daily
at the grip of then —as if winter left its bare bones in my
hands. But I’m not ready to net a coy smile, not when my
butterfly net carries extra holes.

As all my hopes lie on the ground, seeds waiting to be
buried in the dark —waiting to grow. The lights of faith
are shut. And must I wait for fireworks to explode across
my sky again, like next year’s celebrations? But I won’t
shut my eyes this time. Yet I’ll stay open, just in case
tomorrow decides to find me first.

Darling of most.
Do you hear an awaking, a world unlike we know.
Open your heart widely for Heaven's knocking at your Door.

Heaven's moving mountains. Where's your place.
Stars charting a course. Lord where is our space.

Words of unjust, days of doing wrong.
Hearts a mess, feels hard to sing a song.

Truly tired of most. Lost track of feet.
Pain be our memory, soon to forget. Shed tears closer to your seat.

Glance Sunrises darling, rising in the North. A setting of your Heart.
  Dawns of He painting days of life. Be the works of True Art.

Trumpets & loud Drums blaring through the air.
Heart of you and I a complimenting song. Lord you move, we'll be meeting you there.

Darling of most.
We all be crying,
Constantly be of lying.
Do my best of always trying.

Darling, you know of man trying to do everything on his own.

But can't be the type of being that perfect
Put him in the center of it all, you & I could find it worth it.

Darling of most,
The Heaven's doing wondrous things. Dawn of Love.
Seek hope in my eye, follow directions looking to He above.

Dawn of Love. Wake to it every morning.
Best chapters of my life, of such Love story.
Do it all of most under His Glory.

As I gaze upon you, tears streaming down your face,
I see a reflection of myself witnessing your sorrow,
It's as if your eyes shoot bullets of pure pain
And it's in this moment, I feel utterly useless,
like a needle without a sharp point, trying to
pierce your skin one last time.

Yet, despite our shared agony,
we are both numb to anything except
the hurtful words spoken by our loved ones.

My eyes, immortal and wise, yearn for
a life beyond the limits of mortality,
I desire wealth as time slowly passes, reminding
me of its monotonous nature.
In my imagination, I lead a more fulfilling existence,
However, I cannot imagine myself as the one
who will ever live out those dreams.
The sacrifices I have made will lay the groundwork
for the success that will support my loved ones.

Above all, I am someone who prioritizes others
over myself. They are my first thought, the beat
of my heart, and the recipients of my prayers
as time goes on.

In the depths of my longing, I find comfort
in the idea of transcendence.
In my mind, I envision a world where our sorrows
are fleeting moments in an eternity of joy and fulfillment.

I yearn for the day when your tears of anguish
turn into tears of laughter, when the burden of
our pain is lifted and replaced with a lightness of being.
This vision drives me forward, even in moments
of complete futility, like that needle searching for
purpose without a sharp point.

But as I dream of a life beyond my reach,
I cannot ignore the fact that I am not the main character.
I feel like that needle hidden in a haystack,
trying to find itself; a strong desire to find out
who I really am.

Going out passing judgements,
take a look at yourself,
Like passing out fetor flowers,
quick to check if you yourself don't smell.

Petals wilted fast
—breeze carried it far away,
all lost in memories

Good fortunes on me,
would be a blessing if I'm fortunate.

Must be dead,
living life right off the edge.
I wonder much,
into a wondrous thought.

Guard yourself.
The god you know,
when is he one, that you'll call?

When you fall,
how you rise depends
on what...you choose as a "pick me up".  

Even as I'm here,
feeling like a stranger out of place.
This nowhere has me worried.
Navigate through time,
time isn't in anyone's control.
You may lose yourself in too much worry,
more or less lose your soul.

Unfortunately for a fortunate fool,
I'm not at my end.
Though the road isn't as clear,
it's all for a moment by this bend.

Not as afraid,
fear is now a passing mist.  
The times seem dim,
but don't blow out a  light on a dream.
Always another goal in life,
you'll shoot sometimes to miss.

But as alive as you are,
you still got some shots.
So what you got?
Even a tiny little could be a lot.

Of all the fortunes that come your way,
many of which aren't the same.
Let's then all meet in between Fortunes Gate.

Blowing gas,
the smoke of hell rests itself inside of my lungs
There's ash in my eyes, slowly turning into dust
my body is made of rust, from the metal making up my cold heart
As the saltiness I have for love, comes from chasing after someone,
and being so worked up by the sweat on my brow
By the touch of such a touchy subject; I still feel nothing,
but just this feeling of feeling so numb
My voice goes as deep as the pools of swimming thoughts,
and I'm not feeling shy to drink a bit of chlorine
I see everything so clear, clear as the substance in my bottle,
as with a free spirit, I'm not too shy to shoot a shot
And let me mix the odds with a bit Oz,
in my adventurous tendencies, clicking my glasses
to feel like there's no better place like home
But I'm at home, drinking alone, and writing out forgettable poems

      ..Penning out random thoughts,
           my metal health is only a mental note

No underwear
so unaware, of what you prefer
to not actually wear'

Anyway, tell me about you day,
whining about people, while winding down
Wearing so many rushing thoughts like a crown
swore to Christ in a piercing tone, with a piercing on your tongue
As it was the only type of steel that stole my heart in a kiss'
felt so close to those red fiery lips
I kissed a burning sensation of passion; yelling out
"I've really missed you"

And so I kissed you
likewise to it always feeling like our very first
A nervous flirt who could never state his words
In a state of always being too shy to talk to girls
but at the first sight of you' I noticed your worth
In those pretty eyes made of pearls'

As we address all the events
******* ourselves
You and I firstly sleeping together'
then after we find our rest

                                       Goodnight!

My breath feels forced today,
almost as if the weight of the world is crushing
down on me, making it a struggle to inhale.

My tired heart beats with a heaviness that mirrors the
off-white shade of my worn-out Air Force 1 sneakers,
reflecting the wear and tear of my weary soul.
As I took a step into today, I found myself unable to walk,
feeling as though my feet were cemented to the ground,
paralyzed by the burdens of life.

And yet, despite the overwhelming challenges,
I hold onto the hope that even if I overstep my boundaries,
my worth as a person will not be diminished or erased.
My life, my soul, my spirit and very being are worth
more than any material possessions, including the worth
of my shoes.

Invest in sharp objects, I might *****
you mind with my dark thoughts
I hope you won't lose interest
when I call you mine
Give you a fine line as you scroll past me
in a passing thought, on your timeline
We'd share likes by a double chance,
but let me tap a second time to proclaim my love
And feed your mind ironically on sweet nothings,
a bit of something you've never heard before;
My bare naked vulnerably turns into poetry ****

I'm explicit on how I express how I feel,
a thrill in a reality, more realistic that what you see on a reel

The missed chances,— you and I are the same,
still like misplaced socks, I haven't found
my match. Equal the amount of the days
I start to swallow novacane
I'll still pick up the roses that turn into diamonds,
demanding the worth of a beautiful love.
Betting on the odds with every card on the table,
my eyes feel ****** for loving you, while their
tears are blocked like the Kariba Dam.

There's no truth to recognise, with two lovers
completely blind
Landlocked, never to drown away enough in
our own emotions, with nothing much to sea.
Would you believe me or not,— depends on our
bad religions, putting faith in the words we hardly heard.
"I love you my son, I love you my daughter,
   I love you my sister  I love you my brother"

Every thought of love is televised, and we've been
ill-advised. Our daughters and sons shouldn't learn
from us,— from boys who write about *** and love
And girls who read into them, and give away the
innocence in between their thighs.

       The truth with ourselves is absolute...

Reflective tears— but none fall.
Glass-stained eyes, holding back
a flood that forgot how to break.
The walls pit inward— tightening
like regret, closing in like the hole
in my heart.

Hurt me again— my mind almost
begs for it; not for the pain—but
for the proof I still feel.
Cracked knuckles answer what
cracked thoughts can't say.
A fractured mental frame
held together by restraint.

I want to cry, but as I reach for the
memory of it, the tears don’t come—
Just the hollow ache of forgetting
how to let go in that way.
It be like that some days...

Tick Tick; goes my heart in the line of a drumbeat
whereas I stray away from long hugs – it’s an awkward heat
A stray dog shows love to any hand that helps them eat,
so sure — call me a treat when you say so I’m sweet...
Just don’t toss me out on the street; or throw my heart over
the waters of selling me a dream – just to make it skip a beat.

Hiss, hiss; is how even the sweetest of kisses can go –
giving a lover a part of my soul – stepping out with my love;
Being so much like their sole. Meets and greets; those events
and your people – but if I see they’re not good for your soul,
Don’t expect me to tolerate them at all. Those are the snakes
waiting to bite you, and their venom will poison us both.

Click, click; are usually those friendships that won’t last –
blind mice, never calling you out; for the good times to last
Friendships made for the hype, the interest of camera smiles,
but never a picture of genuine trust. Your attention to their
problems is a must, but paying attention to your problems
is too expensive – and that just cheapens love, and I doubt
they would have a problem not showing any value for us -
And in their many smiles, is a smile of joy that we didn't last.

But then again, I’m not in love – but if I was,
I guess these sorts of guidelines should be a must for us.
To make a love that holds onto loyalty, truth, and mutual trust.

Penny for a thought, penny for the waves of emotions to buy a new boat.

Down goes another relationship, another relationship going down,
once was a dime, a vessel better known for it's time.
But all aboard the ship, another relationship going down.

Pennys and Ships,
Vessels of giving girls a tip.
Swallowed down through the sea's lips,
lost at sea in pieces of silver ships.

If I had all the answers to the World's many questions, I'd probably live a perfect life,
And often than more times, I wish to fall into a coma to wake up in a next life, not bruised to the death of a Cold Knife.

As my own shadows of past would haunt me like a ghost still lost in the house of my heart,
I pray to die to self for a new rebirth,  rather to start a fresh, a fresh restart.

And O' on me how I've pushed so many away and shut myself in my own darkness.
And O' on how I've slowly gone numb in indulgement of regrets and ugliness.

May some one rescue me from this old existence, its time for it to die out.
Dear Lord help me , how I beg and cry out.

Existence...

In the case of searching for the right man— is it really the right
man you're after, or just the right now kind? The good-time
lover. The temporary warmth. The one who shows up late, but
still makes you hope it wasn’t too late. Never mind how long it
takes— you’re just hoping you’ll be the one he takes.

And if you start to care, truly care, will the weight of his past rest
too heavy on your heart? Will it matter what he whispered into
someone else’s ear before whispering into yours? Would you
flinch knowing another ear was the trial run, and you’re just
the version he’s learning to hold better, running into his arms.

If his pride is armed like a gun— quick to shoot you down for
standing too close— if he can’t even see your reflection, like a
man wearing sunglasses indoors, would you still stay? Would
your cheeks burn too bright with blush, to see the red flags
waving in front of you?

I’ve been blinded like that before…by charm. By timing. By love,
that felt like truth but turned out to be dressed in denial.

And you'd ask me if I see
myself in that mirror

—no,
I see only what a world has done
has labelled me, called me, rated me
expected of me, thought less of me

...unfortunately for both,
                     it's not me!

Sigh! It comes like a train — an express line through
my thoughts, no stops, no warnings. Oh how
DEPRESSION clips at my heels, familiar as shadow,
unwelcome as memory. Defeated — like sunlight
pressed to branches too burdened to bloom. My heart
hangs in moss — heavy, strangled in the green silence
of old grief.

Tears lean like leafless trees, bowed in all directions,
yet rooted in a place with no direction — a forest dying
quietly, where even the familiar trails feel like ghost
roads I no longer recognize.

I feel short of worth — like coins counted in silence,
never enough to buy the currency of being loved.
I glow in daylight, but dusk takes its due —
and now I dim with every breath.

I try to speak, but end up forcing books down my throat,
pages crammed with words I never learned to say.
But you’ll never see me cry in public — I’m an island
left off every map, burying bottle messages even
I won’t recover.

I have so much hopeful words for others, but I’m
a stack of unread stories to myself; a pen that dries
before I can name the ache.

And somewhere inside —I find a red box with hidden
compartments, each one meant to hold something sacred.
But they echo when I open them — soft, hollow
reminders that even my soul has forgotten how
to fill its space.

Tomorrow’s eyes watch me —
but I am blind until it arrives.
To cease to exist feels like a ceasefire
in time, where I burn away inspiration
on the fumes of an energy drink.

Notebook scribbles doing their best
to unknot all my thoughts —
tangled passions poured out in pen.
This art… it’s love in its messiest form.

Beneath every star, there’s a space
between us — these stained brown eyes
aching for more time, more ink, more breath
to write out the seconds before they disappear.

The pen, a formless weapon — shaping
silence into meaning, turning pressure into
prayer, forming words to be.

So today I asked myself if everybody else felt like me, we all share some similarities right?
We have a a bit of darkness in our life that needs a shinning, a bright light.
If you called your enemies would they answer?
If that pretty lady passed by, could you look forward and move on, could you pass her.

Day to day we almost all the same,
In the sense we have a dream in mind yet they all so different and unique like everyone's name.
But we are the sounds of a radio station playing all different sounds and tracks,
Would a person I only met today guide me, would we have each others backs.
If I jumped into a dangerous action,
If I put my life on the line for no reason, would he stop that reaction.

Day to day we all going ****** in our heads when the moment calls,
Or is that just me, sorry I should of kept that as my secret, not something to add to my many flaws.
But I know someone out there would nod their head to one of the many things I've said,
We would all fall asleep in an empty bed and pray we never wake up dead.

But that's just my day to day, that's all I can say,
Maybe it's yours too, don't really know, but let's just live this life in our own kind of way.

Family will disappoint you when you least expect it,
money will often fail you, slipping through your fingers
just when you need it the most.

Successes, no matter how plentiful, will inevitably run dry,  
time, a merciless force, will never be on your side, slipping
away faster than you can grasp it.

However, your dreams will stand as an unwavering companion,
that greets you each morning and accompanys you as you sleep.

And even in death, your dreams will continue to live on
in the hearts and minds of others, becoming a part of your legacy.
—a lasting testament to your indomitable spirit and
the mark you have left behind.

Plotting a course toward destiny isn’t as romantic as it sounds.
Some days, I feel like I’m walking on half-baked schemes rather
than solid plans—improvising hope on cracked pavement.
There’s a “field of dreams,” sure, but not the kind where the
grass is greener. Instead, it’s overrun with the weeds of
disappointment—unwelcome thoughts I have to keep plucking
from my mind before they take root. As I try to find cover under
the so-called tree of life, but even its shade feels uncomfortable.
Too warm. Too uncertain. And rest doesn't come so easy when
your thoughts are always so heavy.

And tell me—if someone else’s life came with a perfect promo,
polished and so promising, would you still blame me for
my FOMO? I mean, what if their dream life is the one I was
supposed to live? What if I just missed the sign-up link? To catch
myself trying to live out the picture of someone else’s success,
because this life of mine? It’s painfully YOLO. And I try to
keep my horses steady, but envy isn’t exactly a stable creature.
It wears me down, day by day, like I’m stitched together by
Polo—fashionable on the outside, but worn-out underneath.

Failure, though? Now that’s the real villain. It doesn’t just sting—
it lingers, like emotional PTSD. It makes you flinch at the idea
of trying again, as if effort itself is a pointless punishment.
And fingers? Oh, fingers love to point—especially at people
who haven’t gotten far. But when it comes time to point out
themselves, they suddenly feel too short.

Still, I keep my fingers crossed, quietly hopeful I might achieve
something real—something I truly want as a need. It’s a bright
hope, exhausting in its intensity. But even in darkness, there’s
always the flicker of a new light waiting to be found.

O'father, o'dearest father in heaven, hear me now,
It's your son, you know your son you love, place my feet to the Ground, my knees fall to bow.

Let me tell you of what's been going on,
I woke up today to another beautiful day and had more words to use to carry me a long.
Now I made it here, don't really know the name,
But let's call it home, home sweet home, blessed floors and walls in this place since the day you came.
Nothing new to report back, or I'm just losing my words when I'm talking to you,
Funny I planned this entire conversation in my head, now all I got to ask is, why is the sky so blue.

Wait a second, pause a moment, okay I found my words,
I want to thank you for, well everything really, everything even those annoying noisy birds.
Today was another but a different day from the one before,
So I found some more love today my spirit is almost full, but Father God can I have a little more.

And I wonder what your response would be right now.
Probably my son, you put a smile on my face even though you cannot see it but it's there somehow.
I'm so proud of you, what a wonderful being I made,
From your mothers womb I place you there, and my son died for your sins, now your debt is paid.

Maybe you would say something along those lines right?
Yes, no, maybe, it's okay I'm just glad you made that sun shine so bright.
Well a little too bright,
Just being honest here but that's okay it's still alright.
So let me get back to what you need me to do,
Don't miss me too much I'll be back soon, and Father God I love You.

I heard the fury of nature
as the bee that stung
my earlobe
The thunder rolling like a
stone rolling down the mountain
I was told to drink the tears of angels
in these heavens fountain
then bathed in Spirit
to be drowning

I had loved; to the increase of
the foundation under feet
with the more yet to be found
Oh the heart is so wicked
as I spend it all on every weekend

She knows me not of my vices
in the music advice of my
long dead idols
I fair any better in the lessons
of nature, death & time

As nature is pure, death is a given
and time is strange

So many lonely moments; as when the winds are blowing'
Just to capture a moment,  longing to see you again in focus
Dancing around corners, hoping you still miss me even
when I'm around

Cos I already miss me, knowing later on you have to be gone
Leaving empty songs in a guitar case;' chords I've played in
keys to unlock your heart

But I must have forget; to tie myself down, still thoughts of you
Walk all over on my mind; constantly in and out
all before I could even tie the knot

And am I love; yes indeed- by all of these stories in my head
Still searching for a love not yet found

                          Searching, searching, still searching...

Baby, your too good for me, can't you hear me crying, hear this man is crying,
Thinking I'm never too good for you, baby you know I'm not lying, no hint of lying.
And I'm dreaming so much of that body, how I need that body,
Getting lost in those thoughts, feeling naughty, so very naughty.

But you know I would instantly call this feeling you give some crazy voodoo magic ,some love potion magic,
But I really don't care, because I can't lose you, that would be tragic, so very tragic.
And my head is spinning all around, can hardly stand-up straight, failing just to stand-up straight,
But just know I want every inch of you, every piece and taste, a full plate, I just want the full plate.

May I love you now when I have all time, holding this very time,
Can I have you by my side, right by me are you mine, surely are you mine?
Knowing in my heart I'm so scared to lose a piece of you, just a piece you,
My heart would break, shattered into a thousand pieces, and I would be feeling blue, so very blue.

But the lord knows I'm a poet in love, so much in love,
Using my words on paper to compensate for the words in my mouth I've lost, flying away from me like a beautiful dove, such a beautiful dove.
And that beauty falls on you too, your so beautiful too,
Could get lost in that in that beauty, too late I'm far too gone staring at you, I was staring right at you.
Someone come rescue me she stole my heart, now where is my heart,
She has it now, please darling keep it safe, it's beats for you, that is it part, my heart's true part.

And my darling and baby I surely love you so, I love you so,
So when we see each
other once again, my love will be so much stronger, and I hope you know, darling all you need is to know.

Profoundly, I honestly  should be flipping through the pages of The Bible.
But I think I've been the good Christian today.
Oh wow, I'm in such denial.

My religious beliefs were something I learnt inside a building on a particular Day.
What was constantly burned into my mind was, "Jesus is the Truth, light and The Way"

So what is my way to success without the shortcut through life
Told that the future is praying now in the present for my future wife.

But I'm trying my best to find some strength to remain in prayer
But my world is burning down in front of my eyes
Our misdeeds and evil actions the flames layer.

See I belief in a Lord but I hate how I can't stay that long on the belief
For it was hardest for me to accept an invisible entity to help being my relief.

My religious beliefs sometimes clouds my judgement
And through storms of life I find it that hard to sing out to Him the loudest.

For sometimes it's like you left me in alone the wake
Adding to the fact the world tries to prove you real or fake?

We haven't met in person, so if I die don't disappoint me in death
For I'm pulling out on my Faith by a slim stretch.

Now everything feels like a mile
From a long way before seeing Christians hiding themselves behind a Sunday smile.

But are we still on that course we've travelled
Acting though we have all things in check but we won't like the day it comes to be unravelled.

I'd hate to be part of the bunch
But as the days are growing with me and time, it feels to be coming that such.

Would those with such strong religious beliefs look at the broken Christian the same
Or would such people spit rivers every time they'll speak his name.

For see my religious beliefs don't see me out when I fall to ground
When I say something out of the stereotype Christianity spectrum, I'm then kicked out of the crowd.

When the idea I've brought out is not making me feel that proud.

Now brought out of me is this youthful pride.
That large ego of a man I tried my best to hide.
Questioning between being ungrateful or thinking it's all me with the Lord behind.

Really I should pray a little more often
But I feel like chocking on the idea when saying the first words and it's all but coughing.

For when I want to ask the Lord for something I feel like acting so greedy.
Hey Lord how about a couple dollars for the hectic day. Don't see me acting so needy.

Such religious beliefs, thinking good deeds will get you an express pass into Heaven
But even thieves repenting on their last misdeeds will meet me there as my Brethren.

Perhaps the way to break free being caught in between the battles is breaking free from the Christian stereotype
For I'd rather try to be real to myself and people all around. Not hiding behind the hype.

I just want to live my life like I'm living out on worth.
To believe I'm not the waste of space in the world nor the waste of time from the first seconds from my birth.

For if I leave the earth in a moment where will I go
Though I'm told Heaven awaits me how do I truly know.

All I know is, holding onto this faith as all to hold,
To one day die on an age of very old
Making it to Heaven Gates in the Awe and wonder of it's Behold.

Speaking from my Religious Beliefs.

Two strangers at a party don’t know what to say
My dancing moves aren’t so great
Stiff as a cane
I feel so much comfortable at my place
Awkward start

Single to mingle
But don’t know how to act
Driving up the words, must of missed all the signs
Missing the signal
Stuck in a house with a crowd of party people
I’m stuck in the mud

And you’d say
That you want to runaway, so let’s get out of here
And not tell any of our friends
Leave them chasing their trends, I’ll be running fingers
Through your curly hair
Not so smart

Single to mingle
But don’t know how to act
Driving up the words, must of missed all the signs
Missing the signal
Stuck in a house with a crowd of party people
I’m stuck in the mud, had an awkward start
And it wasn’t so smart

under a star lit night/
surrounded by crowds of dark
blankets of time, tucked away in secret/
the forever pieces to form this sky;
are petals of beauty falling onto earth.
...red, fiery, and desirable
i saw a shooting star rose, and what grew
from it was our Mother earth.