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RILEY Apr 2013
I whatsapped you through my nokia
And is it your existence I crave?
Or does my mind order
What is beyond the border
Unseen like the little light bulps in the sky
I whatsapped you through my nokia
And is it your fingertips I need?
Spending minutes on
Semantic and hours on our news feed
And high lights of our day
See my days are all the same
I ask myself questions and I find answers
In the shape of instant messages
Vibrating through my phone;
And as if it’s exhaling some deadly poison
It rings and rings and rings and rings and rings and rings and stops…
I whatsapped you through my nokia
Asking you
“you there?”
But you never answered
Because your iphone cannot show any whatsapp notifications
Coming from hopeless thinkers trying to figure out the typed mysteries of life….
Because your blackberry
Is too black to turn into a satisfactory vision
Of what your future should be;
Because your android
Is practically messy
And willingly complex
Like meteor showers hitting your phone
Every time the truth vibrates
In the shape of unanswered questions
For the answers are there…
But our phones are so smart they hide it;
I wahtsapped you through my nokia
Asking myself
Is my nokia a primitive technology?
A shameful scar on the scale of science
Like syringes ******* all the blood from the unstoppable sweet rush of statistical knowledge
I whatsapped you through my nokia…and all this comes out
Is it me being silly, or us being shallow?
Please do not whatsapp me the answer
For am tired of green screens
And boxed spaces
I need clean streams
Of fine faces
And eyes that glimmer
Rather than phones that shiver…
I shall remind my phone
To remind me
That I don’t need it anymore…
RILEY Dec 2013
To the Days I Felt Safe:
For those who
Tie knots around their necks,
With words they once heard
Sound fancy enough they choke upon their diction
You do not belong.
For those
Whos hands wave
And voices shiver,
To cover the emptiness of their words
You do not belong.
For those who-
Sit in corners
And draw airplane in their minds,
And create universes
So that their little airplane can find
A reason to fly;
And by the end of the day in school
They would learn that,
Black holes are never darker that the pits of our day dreamt creations,
And moons cannot reflect
All the rays of imagination
A little kid dives in,
Each day,
Sitting in corners,
Inspired by the spirals
On the edges of his copybooks
Because what’s in the middle of the page
Was never his concern;
He did not belong.
For those who paint their dreams
Red blue and green
On the back of their veins
While their skin is dead pale
You do not belong.
For those who find difficulties reading,
And find haven in short words
And in pauses after sentences
And in deaths after paragraphs,
And find heaven when no text book is open
You do not belong.
For those who can love
Hard enough to call it love
You do not belong-
I do not belong.
For those who are tired of their deafening surroundings,
The fruitless noises
Of teenagers who forgot how to think,
Their voices that shatter
Like ultra-violet rays
Hitting ozone layers;
Who are tired of loved ones that fail to realize,
That the beauty of their souls
Rises and falls
Twists and turns
And burns to the core of my heart,
Till it bleeds
Verses of spoken word poetry
Of words unspoken,
You do not belong.
And belonging is relative
And death- is partial,
For social circles squeezed too tight
That it’s too hard to breathe,
And our egos grew too wide
We forgot who we really are
Although we’re full of ourselves.
But our imagination; takes us away
Till we realize
How far we are
From who we could be.
RILEY May 2014
She approached me
Tiptoeing from across the room,
Although no one was asleep around us to wake;
I watched her lower lip bleed
From biting too much,
As she deciphers the DNA codes on her hair
With her fingertips,
Stroking the life out of it
Up and down-
And up and down again.
She said don’t get me wrong
But I found myself;
I found myself lurking underneath the light of your words
Bending with your o’s and standing straight with your I’s,
Because I
Got lost;
I got lost in the stories you wrote
About the girls who broke
And they felt just like me-
Dazed
By the love poems you cried down for her,
And I wondered how beautiful she must be.
I got flustered
In the blank spaces
That you chose not to write in,
And it felt like I should cut parts of myself
And add them in the vacancies
But I just don’t know what to add.
For every time I rest my soul
On the tip of a pen
I feel like I’ve said too much,
And every time I scratch my words
Throw away my being
Behind
Unread books and dusty light stands
I believe I haven’t said enough
For I could give more,
Be more,
If only I could start over,
And you
You seem to know me more than I know myself;
You have built bridges
Out of my paper shreds,
Tunnels out of my unexpressed thoughts-
You have created your haven inside my brains
And settled down in my heart.
You’ve managed to make me chew your words
Like breakfast
Was a poetic meal to be served
At all times of the day;
You’re an image,
I re-create you in my mind
Before I sleep
After asleep
And even during I sleep-
The thoughts of you never quit my head
Like a gamer would never quit
A game of Warcraft
In the midst of hunting season”
She took off her glasses,
And I could see the marks of them
Being there for too long.
She closes her eyes
As if she was about to take a leap of faith,
But instead she leaped two steps into my arms
And that was when
I got to ask her
What her name was.
And that was when I realized
It didn’t even matter.
RILEY May 2013
Sophisticated creations created in sophistication
Humbly stumble your rocket ship upon us
Show us the ways of wisdom
The gears to greatness
Greetings from above…

Indescribably intuitive taking part of our tuition
Relaxing everybody with your percentages
Because everybody loves your mathematical mysteries mingling with minds mistaking us monitoring the minutes of our total misguidance
You guide us through that too…
Tactically tyrannical, democratically demonizing our demands
Demanding our demons
Because without the demons dictating our lusts as districts for us to be in
You are but a simple voice
Maybe so inhumanly loud and annoying
But incompetent
Powerless…that freaks you out…
Notorious nuzzles nurturing our children
Not so new of an idea
Because were used to getting
Tips of our rights smuggled through the windows you chose to open
Then smile and wave from up there
Because being like us is too mainstream
Becoming like us is an impossibility possible only when you become wood
Stiff wood
Moving around on shoulders
Standing in line on
The borders
Of dirt and human form
Following your followers with flowers on top of you facilitating your families fascinations that yes, youre gonna be alright down under
Flashback to the fudemental moments of your life
And you’ll realize
It’s when you killed the father
Suffocated the mother
Ripped the brother apart
And told the son…hey let me help you
But this is when you die…
If we all **** you in our minds youre dead
And only then…would “up there” be nothing but a shameful figure
Rather than a worshiped emblem of total *******
And only then…would we gain life…
RILEY Dec 2013
To the young lady that tends to lose her track;
Your eyes are not for tears,
Your eyes are to open portals for my thoughts
To transcend their limitations
And step into your worlds of wonder.
Your face is not to frown,
It is for the people like me
To find the clarity they once lost,
The warmth they crave,
And just the glow they need to light their way into a better perhaps.
Your hands are not for clutching,
Not for
Creating wide spaces to cover the diameter of your face;
Your hands, are to wave in between threads of air that
Hold my love and send it to you;
Your fingers are to unleash the senses
Of those whos bodies are numb
Those who have never experienced your touch.
Your soul is never for anger
Your hatred is untrue
Your energy lies within
You just have to extract it.
You are not to cry,
You are to set free torrents of emotions
Trapped inside a cage with golden bars
A brunette with beautiful wide eyes;
You are not to breakdown
You are to dissect your existence and reshape it
To better represent
Your essence.
You are the gem that loses its spark
When the dust becomes so heavy on your soul
Until it starts burning your eyes;
But shake the dust.
Shake the dust and rise
Be the young lady I know you keep inside, the young lady I love.
Be the savior,
For you do not want saving
Be the hero,
For strength is dormant in between your eye lashes
Be the elevating voice,
That rescues us from our pits
Be the young lady I know you keep inside, the young lady I love.
RILEY Sep 2013
Two lost souls in a fish bowl;
Staring at each other desperately not knowing whether they are meant to be
Trapped in that circular globe,
A circular globe that rains every two weeks,
And the rain is hard enough to replace all the existing water
Adding new milligrams of nothing new;
Just the same characters,
The same water,
The same artificial sea shells that do not belong to the portrait or the background
And surely the same exact lost souls in a fish bowl.
They’re so lost, that each time they try to get out
They cut distances and miles,
Stop talking for a while,
And strike a smile as they see each other moving away;
And as both of them reach their dreams
And destinations not destined to be distinguished by any of them,
They run through a wall they didn’t create,
They run through glass so thin it is a part of their atmosphere
A part of their daily life,
A part of their routine;
Until the day in which they couldn’t live without that wall,
The hedges upon edges of predetermined scenarios.
They swim back,
Two lost souls searching for console
Asking each other questions
Knowing that both of their answers will be satisfying;
Because if I fall you fall with me
And if you don’t I will pull you down,
Down into my phony arms
And tell you that I love you
Over and over and over
Till it becomes all you hear, all you speak
All you see and all you seek
And all that matters
Till your dream shatters
And we go back to what we were
Nothing but two souls
Two lost souls in a fish bowl.
RILEY Nov 2012
Today through the desperate shouts of man our equality is defined as rain pours down like cries
Cries of those who died and still dying; cries of widowed eyes
Today we are all the same…everyone is prone to be soaked by the drops of truth resembling rain
And maybe we all feel the pain
But as the raging voices shout and scream, they are perpetually shattered by every single drop of sky
Every man is alone, today... every man on his own today…
The rich get richer devouring all our rights and confiscating all our sense of security and hope
And the poor get dumped in wells of their own regret; wells unlike the theatrical scenes do not include a savior or that miraculous rope
Genocides are no more Armenian alone, for death knows no nationality
And we stand here waiting for our time to end, accepting the methods of brutality
They've killed our minds, the children of our thought
They've killed our conscious and with money they bought
All the days we fear the unknown, and the unknown is not death for death is safe and obviously common
For death is known and sacred yet the informal is rotten
We are lost inside fake walls
And long halls
Loathing ourselves within those fake walls and longs halls
And the unknown follows us, it's high time we realize that it is the thing we despise
With all the deception of outer images, and human disguise
At least we still have an ascribed right, at least at some days
Today through the desperate shouts of man our equality is defined as rain pours down on our self inveterate ways….
RILEY Mar 2013
She stood there…eyes covered with hope and buried with sheer zest of a normal teenage girl
She stood there… as I tried to swiftly move my hands across my face and rub my eyes
She stood there… left me astonished; I tried to adapt to her figure, but her beauty defeated my tries
She stood there… with eyes of blue and the red hair so smooth I can see the rays of light reflecting into a spectrum of fervor reflecting her inner sweet
She stood there… as I glanced once and smile twice
She stood there… an image so soft of all the goodness in the world and everything nice
She stood there… she stood there and I cried like a lost deluded son of man
She stood there… facing my not so mature mortality
She stood there and smiled
She stood there in the corner of the room and waved without her waving, greeted without a gesture or sound
She stood there and I knew… my love becomes of today, a limitless entity a feeling with no bound
She stood there and I wish she was closer to my breathless heart and the dragons disguised as butterflies in my chest
She stood there and the night went on as I forgot the rest
She left…
She left…
She left leaving me no clue, no trace, and I believe we will meet
We will meet in another world when love wouldn't be so discreet
And I will stand there, holding roses of my words and bouquets of my soul to carry on the burden of my heart
I will stand there, dreaming of the day I stand there, dreaming of the day I got a new start
I will stand there, covered by desperate cries of regret and motivation to move mountains and tame beasts and fight dragons for this is where I want to stand
I will stand there with a simple note written on my hand
A note that says: you waited for me and I failed to agree to your expectations
Now I stand here awaiting your answer with a certain sense of being and a moral complication
For I may not know you, and you sure are not familiar with my cognitive creation
But I stand here for you; for once you stood there for me
I hope…
I truly hope…
RILEY Sep 2013
Heads revolving around topics and unanswered questions,
And questions about a lonely fan
Staring at us, revolving its three pedal shaped figures,
Not creating any new air,
Just transcending what we already have to us
Which I find pretty ironic…
But we can’t live without that fan can we?
I lost track of time not because I am lost, but because my phone died on me
Along with all the other people around ;
The unity between material and man…
My coffee, is black
And so is her sweater now half wrinkled half folded over,
Because she can’t seem to figure out a way to sit,
A way to think
A way to sink in the thoughts of the whole universe within one glace of her beautiful eyes-
Bumping into mine;
And our eye contact couldn’t stand longer than two seconds,
But in those two seconds,
I met her,
I got to know her better,
We went on our first date
I created a whole scenario about us living together and having a child running to me saying
“dad, how did you meet mommy” but child I never did…
Smiling faces, joyful faces
Shape the vibe of the coffee shop that has been my sanctuary for the summer;
The summer of “enchanter”, blue silver and white lights
Long walks on the shores of my chores,
And thoughts that were once yours
Until you sent me those messages
And from that day I realized I am alone.
I am alone for when I met you,
You told me the story of how once you were a child
Growing up between warheads and air headed brothers,
And fairy dust brushed off of the VCR tapes from your favorite movies
Which are now nothing but old 90’s classics.
When I met you,
You talked to me of how you want to become a fashion designer,
And visit france and sleep in paris
Stopping time right at the moment when you find your prince charming,
Because if time passes by and you grow old
You lose track of things and time and not cause your phone died on you
But because you are lost.
You are lost in space and time for when
I met you, you told me about past crushes and crushed hearts,
Future plans and undiscovered parts;
But you never told me about you now…who you are…
As if it was my job to discover that,
As if I was obliged to read the signs in your desperate eyes
And come up with a full analysis of the thing that is you
On a white sheet, same as the one I was writing on
Before I cried poetry upon it;
And poetry becomes fire when in contact with the air I breathe,
And so I choke on ashes every time I see you
For the poetry I wanna write could not be spoken so I just keep it inside;
I just keep it inside and choke on it…
When i wrote this...it was actually on a white receipt in a coffee shop...

— The End —