Seasonal changes,
as there must be a summer in your kiss,—
to give me the light to my smile.
And in the course of romanticising, I must
have crashed my ship on your open land.
As the words to say what I want to say, annoyingly
get stuck in my mouth, like something stuck in your teeth.

But as you lick your lips, I hope it doesn't mean
you're trying to get a lick out of me.
At least once; we've all tasted deceit, and I'm praying
that it won't be the very last taste for me.
We both could have lived out our highs of the city life,
but I'm trying to get a little closer to you where you homestead.
Even if it seems rural, I'd make the most of it whenever
you choose to come to my home instead.

But I don't own an address, yet;
—still you can live on my mind.
Even when I don't own a mattress, you can rest on
knowing that there will always be a place by my side.

We'll make casual conversation in every formal setting.
Part ways with our busy days, just to fit each other
in a section of our busy schedules.
And to end it all off with setting our hearts at another
session, as you cross my mind, knowing you're the thought
that waits at the intersection.

And even when the roads seem slippery,
–I'll have my grip on you.
      Henceforth, Seasonal changes.

Had a girl with the face of the dawn,
my biggest failure was failing to leave her alone.

From her small giggle my heart had cheer,
my words lost, knees weak as sweat broke out as she was near.

A tiny whisper of her voice knocks the walls of the heart,
as the hint of her heavenly scent made angels cry.
The Heavens looked down upon such beauty so pure that no man could deny.

A glance of her many curves made your mind swerve in endless motions,
the thick of her hair was black as night and blew carelessly in the wind's whispers.
You'd fail to gaze upon her and not catch emotions. And you'd pray to all gods that surely existed to make her your Mistress.

But Mistress Beauty was never the easiest of catch.
She'd teased you with a tender hug resting her tender ******* on you, gently making you wish such a feeling could last.

Still even if you played your cards right, your deck would still be empty.
And by the next hand you'd play your last. For she's wise to the game of love and she's won that plenty.

But I was that lucky kid on the block,
a nerd to the eyes of many without much to give. But still trying to give a lot.

Still luck would have me, as I have her.
And often thinking about her by my side left my thoughts with only a blur.
But I was the guy she preferred.

So I had a girl, a Mistress of Beauty.
And though she's long gone to another man's hand, I'm still glad.
For I was first to have her hand, and glad that she knew me.

So to you Mistress Beauty. You were the only one I preferred.

Heart feels recklessly uneven, taking more than it should. Why wouldn't you give.

Sadistic laughs in front of the mirror, finding humour in the scars of the past.
For I force them not to hold me back, their better place in the past. But the deeper pains of the journey through life seems destined to last.

So I count on the age, time slowly passing through me of the very chapters of life through every single page.
And I can't miss my role in this story, so I'll be forced to engage.

Count on the age, but not counting long enough on time in itself,
For secretly the single seconds steal my wealth, or have I confused it for health.

Perhaps maybe, but maybe won't answer the question,
But it seems to lead to justifiable depression. The type for a while, for only a session.

But all from a recklessly uneven Heart.

You'll fit the frame
of the picture of love in my mind.
How openly you'll love,
those of us with closed hearts.

Spearhead of words,
you speak and cut through me deep.
The ends of love,
are so boundless. Love language universal.
Who calls us all, "your children",
but a father who wants to know us personal.

Frightened and feared,
from the many misdeeds I make.
Who am I,
to be worthy enough in your presence?
Still, with all my faults,
my mistakes and misfortunes
You love me anyway. Any day.

A child, glorious creation,
servant, of his chosen generation.
All that becomes so different in the world,
your very love is unchanging.

Love is your art,
a masterpiece of your nature.

Richness of a Heart to the sadness of a Wallet.
Thus not much money to spend, but a Heart not hidden in a closet.

Richness of a Heart while a Wallet tells a tale.
Thus not much money to buy with, yet this Heart not for sale.

Oh me, sometimes wishing for a silver dime
Just to pass the time.
Buying on the many things I wish to be calling them mine.
Still with a rich enough Heart I'm pretty sure I'll be doing more than fine.

Thus it being
Of the fact of the less money I tend not to be seeing
But still having a beating Heart means I'm still human who can do the bleeding.
So let not my empty wallet be so misleading
Look carefully at my words speaking
If you're truly reading.

Richness of a Heart next to an empty Wallet
But I'm okay with that if I'm being quite honest.

Mountains don't talk,
only do they hear.
Listen to falling trees making a sound,
this is like my last moment,
Before my dead wood is found.

What's the amount of life,
adding to the idea only subtracts the cause.
Divided by the voices blowing in my head,
much like wind blowing across you O'tree.
Not so cheap to be alive,
for nothing in life comes for free.

Our cruel world shares no love for any few,
the very few of you are helpless.
Why do we all suffer,
we are so many.
Doing so much in this cruel world,
living in the stories of our upbringing,
Stories we never told.

O'tree,
you and I are much like.
In a world comparing us both,
we're so much a like, living in a world comparing wealth by it's size.

Let's stand,
tell our stories right here on this stand.
They may never understand,
how our offspring are destined to grow great.
Seedlings of little wealth,
born to reach the skies, a touch away from the blue.

We grow in this world,
moving so fast,
nothing in the moment seems to last.
How do we make it to any future
when we fail to remember our past.
Wealth sees fortune,
but fortune won't forever last.
What drys out is only nature,
all that falls, drys away like leaves on the grass.

At the edge of the sea,
lies the land of we.
Are they free,
see through our lives, what will you see?

Along with you and me,
a variety of difference between thee.
Still a beautiful people,
we are all but we.

Let me down once again, burying me in disappointment;
a heavy burden, burying me deep within its grasp. A grim demise, but the truth is, I have experienced this feeling of lifelessness before. Scream at my face, as if I don’t listen enough,—following around like a personal slave to people. **** in my face when you’re ******* at me. Tie your opinions of me, as I have these knots on my tongue.

     Treat me as nothing more than a worthless *******, just
to cover yourself with a new sheet. Blame me for all of the mistakes, as I misplace my happiness and put on this fake smile on my face. Cast a shadow over my days, letting me catch a glimpse of your true colors in the absence of light.

     Call me, “*****,” and “little ****;” I doubt any of those words
will hurt as much as they did before. Break your tongue on
trying to say things that will break my spirit. You all already
tried to break me before; you won’t break me anymore.

A relationship so hard
to cut off, ironically for
what it actually is:
a man and his usual barber

I am the infinite glass- the fragile barriers closing in;
A weight of the seed nestled deep in the shadows of the earth—
I am the inaugural stone, hurled into the depths;
The one that no one pauses to ponder whether
I will drift or quietly descend

I am the cracked brick, a seemingly trivial fragment
Of a grander edifice; yet, my absence resonates in
The echoes of this structure's eventual collapse
I am the glove worn by a *****,
Shielding an outcast from the harsh gaze of the world
I am the dust that mingles with ashes, lodged in your lungs,
A painful reminder of each breath you take
I am the wandering mirror, capturing and reflecting
Your sorrows back at you.

I am that infinite glass, my hands slipping
Away from my grasp, and in this loss, I struggle to uphold
My spirit through the lens of your experiences, I see the entirety
Of my being reflected back at me- I am that infinite glass.

There’s a girl who mirrors my every move—
   it makes me afraid of my own reflection.
And if I’m biting time,
  then please— serve me a couple seconds.
I should’ve loved you better, much earlier…
  so I’ll be with you in a second.

Let me shield my eyes— watching you put
on your armour, decorating your smile,
 you’re a mouthful of colour.
A love picked from the bunch,
  too rare not to treat like a flower.
First as a friend, protective as kin—
even when your salty remarks
 mistake pamper for pepper.
Your attraction? In mint condition—
     a treat like a peppermint.

My skin’s a little tinted, my cries tilt
a little sideways— these long-*** messages
   just to keep you from trailing behind.
Smiling beside you, you give me food
  for thought, and a kind word on the side.

It’s hard to find the genuinely kind.
      But you?
You’re a rare kind— the kind I’d hold
on to, if only I knew how.

I wish time was as easy as skipping rocks over a pond.
It would be wonderful if, with a skip, I could
effortlessly transport myself to the other side
of that looming idea, finding the promise of the
future waiting for me there.

As I take each step, I envision them as stepping stones,
guiding me towards my goals and ambitions,
hoping I won't encounter another heartbreaking
moment that brings tears to my eyes.

The serene green scenery that surrounds
me serves as a reminder that my soul is still
burdened with the stains of past mistakes.
Yet, despite the passing of time, I find myself
at a loss for words, unable to utter another
empty prayer while feeling a lump in my throat,
like a frog is trapped within.

I'll write a girl a piece of work,
and speak a prayer of no judgement
by her. Lord, don't let another one
call me, "a piece of work"

Two eyes, 👀 see the world for what is,
two hands✋ to pray on bent knees.
Flesh of flesh, blood of my blood,
all those down to earth, raised from mud.

One mouth, 👄 speaks of my worth,
scent of desire tickles my nose.👃
Flesh of flesh, blood of my blood,
flow of words, will be like a flood.

Two feet, 👣 lead to where I'm meant to be,
one mind  to unlock knowledge is key. 🔑
Flesh of flesh, blood of my blood,
guilt tripping yourself, it's never been judged.

One soul, spirit full of vigour,🔥
one heart ❤ filled to brim of a caregiver.
Flesh of flesh, blood of my blood,
how we were created, knowing we're loved.

We're the images of God.✨

Love, what are you than that constant butterfly motion in a tummy,
Moving me up or moving me down so close to the ground, paying so much for you with non fictional money.
What's this love without a little bit of old pain by the side.
Kissing a lot of strangers in this name of love, hoping the next one could be my bride.

What's love without a bit of hurt from the one close you've lost,
I admit I cry rivers of tears in the name of love, I've paid a lot of bills for love at a very high cost.
What's this love but a drug I'm sniffing and taking to my brain like *******.
Now if I went numb from this and you cut me open would I feel any source of pain.

But what is this love, but a story or movie that I still don't understand it's full plot,
In some days you're leaving my heart so dim and cold but in the night you burning me way up, you just too **** hot.
Taking pictures of love floating around in the sky.
I captured it in a moment but I can't explain you yet, I'm just left with this capital why.

This is love, drug taking with some seduction and sometimes a little familiar pain,
But despite it all I would stand outside and let the hurt be washed away by joyful rain

Crowded foresight —  
      thoughts stacked sky-high,  
     cluttered windows of a dreaming mind.  

              Out of mind,  
           out of sight…  
     yet somehow, I keep seeing  
     the better days of my life  
       skimming the edge  
        of a hopeful smile.  

                 That smile —  
          soft, unspoken —  
           given with time,  
        drawn from deep thoughts  
            folded in silence.  

                    . . .  

         Any life worth seeing —  
       any better version of me —  
    is shaped by what I’m willing  
          to put light on.  

               So I  
            paint my  
       foresight with  
   fireflies  and  sunbeams,  
     hoping the dark  
          makes room  
             for the  
            light I  
               keep.

Dearest Moms,

Here's to the day for All our Mothers out there, to be Spoiled and drowned in Love.
Let's take a moment to appreciate the fact You were created by that Man up above.
Here's to all the Chefs of our homes, always filling up our Tummy.
When the dark scares us at night, we instinctively called out Mommy.

To the ones who brought us to see this Beautiful World,
And though sometimes we find it hard to show our love, for sometimes our Love for You is so Untold

But despite all that, we Love you All.
Thank you for just your mere Existence, for a Mother's love is just so Tall.

So to this Mother's Day, dearest Moms, enjoy all the Spoils and Love.
Thank you dearly for holding us tightly with your Love and Care  wrapped around on us like a Velvet Glove.  

We Love You All ..

Just like yesterday,
the age of me has come to past
What lies in future,
if you're too afraid to live through today
Never so easy being a being,
we'll live this life proceeding
Till another morning.

Wake from our troubles,
stay fast asleep in our dreams
Take a second to breathe,
who knows how much hours we have left?
Time won't account all our regrets,
take registry of how much you're blessed.
Who knows if we'll live another day,
Till another morning.

Our all feels little,
amongst the selfish of all people
We can't satisfy them all,
many are those who love or hate you.
Still they are equal people,
can we not love them all?

Though it hurts to love
the loveless, it is much stronger
than not loving at all.
We can't run away from it at all,
Till another morning.

So as the day will set,
we are the ones who seem to care.
At times it feels so rare,
but rather that, than going extinct.
If I must make a wish,
I wish we all do better till the very end,
soon after that, we'll meet again
Till another morning.

There's a love that resembles a foolish quest,
her thoughts constantly occupying my mind.
I'm breathless, yearning for passionate kisses,
wearing love's badges proudly on my chest.

I never fought for love, but fought to be adored,
and the sound of their lips reveals wickedness soon.
As fears and great expectations intertwine,
the walls crumble in this butterfly-filled belly,
an anticipation that surpasses all others.

And it's the curse of desire that keeps me trapped,
a twisting sensation when she's not by my side.

The wars we're sent out to fight
could be the wars we're fighting in ourselves.

Killer instinct,
is just a blind regard for human life.
Violence,
an action taken when we don't like the reaction.

Man's intent to destroy
is only because he hasn't known how to create,
And why love seems little,
is only because man lives more in hate.

The often disgust of Man.

A seductive whisper,
passionate kisses immersed in
sultry falsehood on their lips

A heart transformed into granite;
gazing into each other's eyes,
locked in a fiery embrace
with a captivating enchantress

With a luring melody and enticing phrases,
to an intimate soirée for just the two of us
Be cautious not to sink your teeth into those words,
for you may risk losing a precious tooth!

A throne of the dark roses, with thorns of blood that mercilessly pierced her fragile heart. She now sits upon the shattered remains of what was once love, consumed by an overwhelming feeling of pain and betrayal.
It is as if love itself has transformed into a crown of thorns, constantly piercing her mind with thoughts of those she once held dear.

The agony she endures can only be compared to the torment of a devil dressed in red, yet her sorrow runs even deeper, cloaked in the blackness of the night.

It is like she is haunted by whispers of death that fill the air, like a mournful lullaby whispered into the ear of her past lovers. Every step she takes weighs heavy upon those who have passed, as though her footfalls are a solemn procession towards a coffin.

And in that very place where you last found solace, your head resting peacefully, it now becomes the site of your final farewell, a place where love has bled out its last drop of comfort.

Roses are red, the ones that won't grow by my heart,
they evoke a sense of longing and unfulfilled desires.
Delicate petals, once vibrant and full of life, now lay dormant,
mirroring the dormant feelings within. All a bittersweet
reminder that emotions, like flowers, have a finite lifespan.

I'm tending my blue, in the violence of my eyes,
as turbulent as the crashing waves on a stormy night.
The storm brewing within me has fueled a relentless pursuit of
dreams, propelling me forward despite the obstacles that stand
in my way.

With determination and resilience, I push forward,
believing that the next turn of the century will bring
new beginnings and endless possibilities.

I had a tenfold of wishful thinking, my mind
consumed by thoughts of what could be.
Each night, I found myself wondering if my prayers had
reached the celestial gardens of Heaven, where they might be
nurtured and grow into reality. It was a hopeful plea, a desperate
attempt to manifest my deepest desires and find solace
in the belief that someone or something was listening.

In my quest for fulfillment, I planted a piece of gold in
the grounds of time, a symbol of optimism and abundance.
It represented not just material wealth, but also the invaluable treasures of love, happiness, and purpose. I yearned for a worthwhile time to be alive, where every moment was infused with meaning and each day held the promise of fulfillment.

I've been feeling some kind of way,
Let's all be the poor man laughing all the way to the bank everyday.
If that slow song played in the background, I try myself to dance,
Though my own two feet can't move side to side, step to step to the beat, I would still get caught up in it's trance.

If the sentence of my own death were to peak around,
I would take the time I have to enjoy the time I have left and live longer in that moment before I hit the ground.
Then after deal the hand dealt onto me.
Stack up a full house to build a home for my own little wealth and all I need to be.
Then fall in love with the one who stole my heart one last time,
And if the world were to crash into itself, I would fill her ears with my last words of calling her mine.

Lasting days that leave a everlasting impression to my body, heart, mind and soul.
Tell me what shall we do now in this Today's dream, millions of years aged like the black lump of coal?

O'Lord what shall I do next as I hold you as mine.
Bless what a troubled heart would find to bring itself peace. Given to me as my own hope in you, give me more time.
Even when my favourite song plays on the radio and I sing along with my broken voice .
Let no man stop me from singing to my own happiness. Here be my very own choice.

Feel this strange feeling deep in my heart,
I would be happy to lose it all for I've already enjoyed it all from it's very start.

The sky is falling—
ashes in slow motion,
  raining smoke laced with doubt.
I’m trying to figure things out – trapped inside
   of my mind, trying to map a way out.
Time wears you down like a borrowed face.
Money races laps around your mind—
  and we’re all so deeply
    invested in the chase.

I think locomotive thoughts—
   every train of thought heavier than the last—
but somehow, I keep losing track of time.
But what is time,
  if not something that’s never mine?
We spend every second like a dime—
  but not every moment
    is worth the time.

I dress up for someone else’s moment,
tailor my soul to suit their life—
wearing joy like it’s rented, hoping the fit feels right.
Every mistake I remember from yesterday
  becomes a brushstroke in the picture I paint today—
a portrait of someone better
  hanging up in my frame of mind.

And maybe, just maybe,
there lies the real way
to fit in.

Lovely out, cut my tongue with words
"I love you" in an end rolling in
the carvern of my heart caving in
But I don't want to go there
Into the night, time burns my eyes
Of how long you're out of my sight

Shooting at heaven's stars,
An angel fell for me

But if you expect me not be crazy in love
You haven't questioned my sanity

These open arms are so lonely
Please won't you come to me

Life has sanctioned my heart's sanctuary
I just need your company

And if I keep on chasing stars
I might finally earn my wish
All shooting stars pierced my heart
No escape, from a lover's will

Lack sleep like the many things in my life
I think forward during the night that I'm already thinking about a wife
I cut my insides with thoughts of sharp  through the blades of my mind's knife.

Sleep, Sleep, Sleep,
where you be.
Barely tried to know as you left before the sun's wake
As you were the one who loves to dessert me
Morning breakfast of sunlight makes me realize that real sun rays plays to being fake.

Why do I prey on myself robbing away my own sleep
Falling down into a pit of my thoughts and troubles of deep.

In the days I crawl out from my eyes to reach for my sleep.

Lacking upon a thousand hours of rest
The morning noises quickly rises up. Telling myself "Get up, get yourself dressed"

What did you expect,
For sleep to be but a friend
When it takes joy in leaving you  depressed
When shall it end?

But I still think I sleep for way too Long
Given at chance I could sleep to an awaiting dawn
Yet as I wake I don't get up feeling rested and strong.

I lack the sleep
something I won't fear to admit
But just try to reach for me inside of this pit.
Help me overcome this load of lack sleep.

Strong not being my heart
Drinking a life away piece by piece falling apart.

Can't change a face born with,
Nor buy everything in the world to go waste after death and fall worthless.
Holding onto glass hoping to see through the world
By blurry faces everything seems less clearer
While being lost in the sky but not free as a bird.

Pause, for the game of life has gone out of play,
Stopping in between the middle, right between the trouble and sadness of today and yesterday.

Only when time beckons my heart to be where it is,
Will I keep to who I am despite whatever the hurt.
And stupidly getting up to face it once more from bruised knees.

Maybe because I'm foolish enough believing fully on hope.
Sleeping on time just to keep to my dreams.
Standing out the pattern of the rest and the other folk.

And find me foolish to keeping to the pursuit of conquering all trouble,
And gladly shall I share with them the joke.

To play in the keys
                 of love; a scale
                               that flows up
                                                   and d
                                                           o
                                                           w
                                                           n

She was a chorus to me, so catchy to the ear,
                                   but of course grew so annoying
Played so often, that I often felt it was out of key

                                     Flat; as a bare chested experience
                                                      ­ having a heart trapped in a cage
Beating away all the many breaths,
       wasted on uttering those wicked words in
such a cliché beautiful phrase,

                                           "I love you you"

           As so easy to say, what words a mouth can form
            ironically is the mouth so too to perform,

An act so alike to a scripted literature play,
to an audience, a perfect scene, unseen by the curtains fall
                   The applauds drumming over the despairs;
                                         but to these despairs going unheard


            We are all like cattle in a herd, drove to insanity
       to instantly say those wicked words in
such a cliché beautiful phrase,


                                   "I love you you"
                                       "I love you you"
                                                     "I love you you!"
                
                                                                ­                            ...but why?

Dismissive thoughts,
telling me always to quit.
Watching out for time,
counting empty seconds on my wrist.

What is my time,
if I'm not one to make it mine?
And if ever give up in life, it's probably because of those first two lines.

How do I ever give up while still being alive?

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.

Lack the better skills in communication,
finding words in this hidden location.

It's beautifully who I am,
a painted picture of the shyness of this empty man.

Who looks forward to a lot of things while looking back,
and the life he left behind seems to find itself upon his map.

Sinking tears –

 feelings don’t fall,
  they crash
   like glass hearts
    meeting pavement.

Your chest?
 A sunken place.
  No bra strap to hold it up –
   just white linen,
    innocent for a moment,
      until it slips
       in front of eyes
       like mirrors
        reflecting
         every scar
          painted on your skin.


Sandcastle kisses,
 built soft –
   fragile –
     on lips that no longer
       believe in forever.

Yet you speak
 like royalty,
   saying boldly:
    “Love me for what I am –
     not just who you think I’ve been.”

Not a princess.
 Not a saviour.
  A mess.
   A wreck.
    A fallen queen.

Wearing her cracked gold crown
 like a forgotten joke –
   that still makes your heart ache
     when it returns
      in the quiet between memories.



Bones for time –
 you pick at every hour
   like it owes you something.
    Tick.
      Tick.
        Snap!

The clock breaks
   where your mind does.

You may live in the day,
   but you breathe
     in the night.

Freer beneath moonlight,
  where shadows stop asking questions –
   and silence
    finally listens.

I chased after a shadow living behind a dream,
stuck in the way of lights, like a stunned deer
Finding ascensions to the clouds by a life’s amount,
as the days count down; time runs up- to eventually
run out

A human life worth gold for a time; comforts that reside
in the life of those growing up with a silver spoon
Others guided forward, from a backside given a good
wooden spoon

Passing through a lifetime of judgements of a past life
for prophets who see the future first; foretelling
a destiny, to make profit into a human’s eyes

These human genes, feel so humid in these jeans
for all the objects much darker than they really appear
So said, the monster looking at themselves in the mirror,
while drowning in a pool of tears; afloat— triumphing on
old fears

My thoughts stagger, trying to carry hopes heavy as heartbeats.
Two lovers, chest to chest, whispering, “let’s talk soul to soul,”
trying to make sense of a love story that hasn’t been written yet
—a heart-to-heart moment, I keep dreaming of.

I tell myself: stay focused. But I’ve been tiptoeing through
daydreams, because chasing love too fast leaves you breathless
when it runs the other way. Cos everyone wants the highs of love,
but no one talks about the problems on the down low — the quiet
exits, the silent tears, the way loneliness can sneak in even when
someone’s lying right beside you.

Maybe it’s a late-night phone call — a sleepy “goodnight, baby”
before the line cuts out. Or a “good morning” text just to fold into
my memory like a note tucked beneath my pillow. Maybe it’s
wanting to tell you everything — not just the good, but the messy
middle parts too. Like you’re both my friend and my fire. Like you’re
the one who fits the empty spaces between the soft notes of this wild
birdsong my thoughts keep singing.

I want that kind of love. But I know relationships get complicated.
And honestly, I don’t miss perfect — I miss partnership. I miss
the “we got this” when life gets heavy, the “I’m here,” even when
we don’t have the answers. It’s not a complicated thing — just
someone to solve life with me. To laugh when things crack. To stay
when the flaws start showing.

I want skin I can breathe in — not just touch. Someone who sees
my silence as depth, not distance. Who holds my flaws like fragile
truths, not defects to be fixed.

But maybe that’s too much to ask. Maybe that kind of love only exists
somewhere between sleep and memory. I’m awake now — and I
don’t want to fall too deep just to find the woman of my dreams.

Dust off my feelings — I could say
     I’m a little rusty when it comes to love,
so please… forgive me.
With all these needs and wants, I don’t want
to seem so needy — believe me! Sometimes I feel
like the memory of other people, a name echoed
in stories but never fully seen. I guess the fantasy
of connection never really ends. I loan myself
abundant confidence — but only in my heart,
and even then, only vaguely. Behind the irises,
tired eyes rest on the soft outlines of what
the mind believes it can finally see. To participate
in finding oneself… it’s a gruesome search party.

My floodlights are filled with a bit of drought —
shining outward, but lacking what flows within.
I’m strolling where I never had the courage to step,
everywhere I turn feels like a new pressure.
I give out my heart, but don’t have much of a chest
to hold it — barely a ribcage to defend it.
Yet still — there’s treasure in this tenderness,
a worthwhile chest of purpose hidden in the pretending…
of escaping real life. But here I am, in real time —
taking the first step.

Rational thoughts,
the ideas I haven't bought
The ones I can't afford.
Mind sharp as a sword,
cutting edge ideas to change the whole world.

So I've been told!

Seem to be wise,
though not that old.
Wisdom strikes a nerve,
a quiet listener, mostly reserved.
Action present within my words.

So I've been told!

Seem to be alone,
able to fix pieces once were torn.
A goal to score,
a target in life I seem to know.

So I've been told!

Within Heart,
and of my Soul.
As I am, as is my all.
Within Mind,
and Spirit above it all.
As I am, as is my all.

I need not be told!

I'm the
best dancer
in the dark
Under the stars
of my dreams
and moves of
light feet

Build yourself afloat an idea of Noah’s ark,
trafficked creations through this industrial suburbia
Blinded in success’s fog lights often conspicuous;
and spun in a slow arc
That vent plugged into a socket; looking for an outlet-
old feelings to a new friendship, connected to a stream
of similar energies. But living our days as house spider
webs, vibrating time as people who go out less

Elevating breathes to awkward stares between worth;
on a tarmac’s bland lead up to an eternity lost in urbanity
— sophisticated talk between us both; trying to find
pickup lines to a car now slowed
Please don’t miss your stop, through the stark trees,
cheering you on with an Uno card- a reserve of glory
here, without any red image to resurface; a missed
purpose in the marsh grasses, tears at the water’s edge,
for the soak of fears stinging like bees

When every bird called, I seemed to only hear a scream
up until a noon brought forth; adding up myself in
a mathematic solution, of why the unnatural tones
I was really just screaming at myself, stuck of how
so many ideas were stuck in between

Quick to fold into myself — these are the cards I’m keen to hold.
I’m playing the game of life, love, and growing old.

“Here are your cards, son.” But no one taught you how to play.
No rulebook, no dealer’s grace — just silence and a seat at the table.
So it’s up to you to figure it out, Kassan — learning to deal with
regret while life deals you more hands of hardship to accept.

Go on — place your bet. Will you find success? Will you chase the
dream? Will you even get a shot at love when every reason still
shoots you down? And would you risk it — even after every loss
you can count, forgetting how many wins you once held close?

You deal with the hand you’re given. But even the purest heart holds
the dirtiest intentions — so by extension, you might be playing
with a ***** hand. Still, we all play into this game we call life. It’s a
poker bet, a Crazy Eight, where you don’t even get to declare.
So you study the faces life deals you and wear a poker face to keep
your tells in check.

Don’t count your gains too early. Take them home to count —
slowly, privately. Don’t get robbed by the table just for showing
what you’ve earned. And the casino only closes when you leave.
The lights stay loud and lovely from across the street, but there
are no clocks inside. So you better watch your step.

Because despite how it looks, this life smiles, knowing **** well
it’s not a friendly game.

As I stood in my room, a mysterious door materialized before my eyes. Its black surface seemed to beckon me, promising an adventure beyond my wildest dreams. Intrigued by the unknown, my young and curious self couldn't resist the temptation. With a surge of excitement, I stepped through the door, leaving the familiarity of my room behind.

To my astonishment, I found myself transported to a lush and jungle-like world. The air was thick with humidity, and the vibrant green foliage surrounded me on all sides. As I ventured deeper into this enchanting realm, my senses were overwhelmed by the symphony of exotic sounds and the earthy scent of nature.

Lost in the beauty of this new world, I failed to notice the intricate spiderweb that lay in my path. Before I knew it, I was entangled in its sticky embrace. Panic surged through me as I realized the danger I was in. If the web was this colossal, what monstrous creature had spun it?

Suddenly, a giant black widow spider emerged from the shadows. Its eight beady eyes fixated on me, hunger gleaming in its gaze. Fear gripped my heart, but I refused to succumb to its predatory intentions. Summoning every ounce of strength, I fought against the silken threads that bound me.

With a burst of determination, I managed to break free from the spider's web. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I sprinted towards the door, desperate to escape the clutches of the venomous arachnid. The sound of the spider's screeching pursuit echoed in my ears, urging me to run faster.

Finally, I reached the door just in the nick of time. As I attempted to slam it shut, the spider lunged forward, attempting to force its way through. With all my might, I pushed back, narrowly avoiding its venomous fangs scratching my arm.

Relief washed over me as I successfully closed the door, sealing the spider and its treacherous world behind me. But my heart still raced with the intensity of the encounter. I knew I had to share this extraordinary tale with someone, so I eagerly awaited my mother's return from work.

As her car pulled into the driveway, I rushed to meet her, eager to recount the events that had unfolded. However, to my dismay, she dismissed my story as a figment of my imagination. Determined to prove the truth, I led her to my room, guiding her towards the mysterious door. But as we entered my room, the door vanished just as mysteriously as it had materialized.

As I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for fabricating the details of my supposed escapade. My mother, of course, didn't hold back in expressing her disappointment, scolding me for my dishonesty. Left alone with my thoughts, I couldn't help but question the authenticity of the entire experience. Was it all just a figment of my imagination? Despite my doubts, one thing was undeniable - the scratch on my arm. It served as a tangible reminder that something had indeed transpired. As I examined it closely, a sense of unease washed over me. The venom from whatever had caused the scratch was slowly taking effect, and I couldn't help but wonder what consequences awaited me.

They ask me why I do it all.
Why I'm tripping but are yet to fall.
They ask me why when bad happens I cry for so long,
when that nice tune on the radio starts blasting and I always sing along.

Why my currency had such an urgency,
but I use it only  for a random emergency.
Why I can't keep my eyes from all the pretty girls that come around,
I'm failing to look away from their curves, or at least stare to the ground.
Why I'm smiling to wide and long when at times I'm dying inside,
carrying so many pains, trying so much to hide.

They tell me I should hope for the future yet I can't see a pathway to it.
I fear mostly of the things not likely to come, but I failed to keep an eye on it, I never really saw it.

Is it a human nature of a being not to sure of his identity of self,
do I cut down trees to build fences to hide my wealth.

I'm just a man who maybe cries more than most,
and I don't really know my position but I'm still playing this post.

I'm human after all.
I bleed and fear, and stack my desires to be so tall .

What to say about yesterday,
the day that seems to blur with the passage of time.

It's like trying to grasp onto a slippery memory,
fragile like a delicate pat of butter slipping through your fingers.
How I wish I could hold onto it, savor it, and make it last.
It feels as if I'm trying to spread my time like butter on toast,
hoping to cover every moment that I have, that I had.

Memories are like fragments of a puzzle,
slowly piecing together the story of our lives.
And yesterday, it held a significant piece, a piece
that I don't want to let go of. It was a day filled with laughter,
joy, and love, creating a tapestry of beautiful moments that
I want to cherish forever.

The colors of yesterday, like an artist's palette,
painted a vibrant picture in my mind.

The sounds, the smells, and the sensations are
etched in my memory, even if they slip through
my grasp like silky sand.

Yesterday is now a chapter in the book of my life,
a chapter that I hope will never fade away.

Tables do turn, amongst the bridges
you and I burn;
Just wasted food for thought, and no
place for us to go.

Her skin was dark as what you
see when you close your eyes
And in the night, all you could see was
the painted white of her eyes
The tint of an artificial smile,
while she was a fly by night kind of gal
A shadow behind it's shadow, knowing
she'd always have a dark past

Her hair; black as the blanket of night
covering the sun. An heir to her throne,
who was her light-skinned son,- ironically
But it must be so commonly,
that the dark gives a reason for light
And from a dark place;
a womb was that, that birthed a new life

She braided her heir, to prepare
him for this twisted kind of life
Crowned him with thorns, so to
know, it hurts to think so sharp
As she hung a neckpiece around his neck,
to compliment his youthful charm
Bathed in him in the sweetest of flowers,
to nectar him in love
And tattooed stars on his back,
so that a thousand angles would always have his back

Tell me if this wasn't love,
or  just another dark ritual, of a dark queen mother.

Hope in less fortunate times
belongs to the Brave
Life lives on the lines
of man surviving on God's grace.
As is faith,
waiting on what comes our way
On what will save.

Bring me up to my knees; as an intimate relationship
to a spirit's hymn, where the melodies intertwine with the
deepest desires of my soul and create a symphony
of divine connection.

As the colours of diamond eyes have witnessed my journey,
recognizing the sparkle of my worthiness as
I seek the constant reassurance of your promised presence.
As I wander through the corridors of my thoughts, I stumble
upon the resonating echoes of your blessings, reminding me
of the blessings bestowed upon me.

In stillness, I find solace, like a river resting in its bed,
emitting purity and pouring out serenity into the world
around me. May my feet be firmly cemented on the path of
faith, anchored in the belief that every step I take is guided
by a higher power.

Like the eyes of a lover gazing upon their very first love,
may my love be forever reminiscent of that initial spark,
a flame that is always hungry for more, constantly craving
deeper connections and experiences in this abundant universe.

And so, with unwavering determination, I move forward into
the calling of the creator, embracing the unknown with open
arms and trusting that every step I take will lead me closer
to fulfilling my purpose.

I remember you as that cigarette
-counting all of the ashes
There's a spark between us,
smitten; under the candles in the sky
So whenever I'm in the dark,
looking up to know you're all that's left

I was struck by your eyes, sending strikes
of insecurity into my heart
What a thunderous sound it must of made,
to be falling so hard, falling in love

Till all of the skies fall onto the ground,
crashing down on all us;
I'll be the one with these silly pick-up lines,
whispering in your ear, to try and pick up such a star

                         I hope this time I won't fall out of luck