It is made of wood
You bend and pinch
your eyes, your head
Your notes are in the sink.

A sharp pencil, an inkblot
a page, few books maybe
You lie down and draw a face
And rub it off "it's crazy"

And you will grow 60
with your desk
bend your head down
like the rest

So before you do
You need to ask

"Can you fly?"
"I want to fly."

I wish I met you again.
Where the sunlight scorched and my eyes met yours,
It was unknown and new
But my heart had never beaten faster,
A horse pumping his pumping *******,
A stallion!
And the sweat that trickled down my neck
Longing to only make you mine,
All that adrenaline, all that sweat
I wish I met you again,
We could be foolish and dance in the rain,
Or make silly choices and hop on a train;

How I wish,
I met you again.

There is a town sir,
It has grown feeble and old,
It has lanes and dreams
That had liquor in them when it sold;
And a red house
That beats like a hurricane
And a woman with pearl locks
Has the door engraved with her name;

She had left sir,
The house had caught fire
I am in search of a fire marshal,

I am no liar.

The truth is,
everybody is sad;
Someone lost their mama,
Someone killed theirs,
It might have been a long marriage
Or he might have been insincere
Your friends might have left you
Or your pet collapsed,

You need a death pill,
She won't love you back.

Sometimes you reach out to grab the moon;
Only to realise, it is a false satellite screen.

After hours, when I'm home
With less than a man, a dog, maybe a gnome;
I'd like to think that memories kept me alive
But alas! it was the lies,
If I smoke any of those e-cigars,
I might as well choke when I look at the sky
Or she who had no friends,
Or she who met her end;
She who lied about poetry to win his love,
Now pushing e-cigarettes through her spine;

I was alone, Alone as I grew up
I poured my own whisky, I shared my own cup,
I'm Fine, I'm sorry,
I'm alive, and the lies
And the lies piled up like old report cards
Whom did I marry for life?
I'm a pathological liar in disguise;

You said I looked like a painting, I gleamed!
Edward Munch drew me, I screamed.

They are all temporary:
Pop a Xanny and look at the sky;
You cannot play pictionary
If the board is full of lies.

Today I smoked *** and looked at the sky,
My mind slowly went to Neverland
Somewhere between never it's gonna be,
Neverland, never who,
I would never find people who are true,
I went to the pit of the universe and thought
About a mermaid who swam like me
She got dumped in the sand
And was forced to turn into a man under the tree,
To wake up with a warm cup of tea
Who are you
And am I me,
Whoever thought that memories weren't easy
It isn't dear man,
I will cry and tell you
Who can be
And who can't
You aren't part of my memory
Why are you in black and white
You seem sad and important
But I have no place for you in my life
I could cry and mop and compare my trigger
With a sad friend
But who has got time for friends
Or for people who use you like  a bag of ****
Whom are you living for
Grow up, men aren't born with wings
I am about to tell you to be a man and go get drunk,
You aren't a christmas holiday, your life isn't fun
I am gonna trigger a bullet young man,
I am sorry that I couldn't make it through
If I feed my brain a bullet
And make it through the end,
Maybe in the next life,
We could be friends.

I could be a shaman, and imagine my wife making pancakes
And little children playing around with hand-made kites;

Truest behind dreams that interpret our living,
I have been scrammed inside a 7/9 metal jar
Where the only living creature swimming around
Is imaginary and I call her hope;

People do not advertise money;

And I hoped they did!
Life would be a whole lot easier.

I remember when I met you back in winter
It was snowing outside and really cool,
I meant to send postcards through the summer,
I wanted to hand you the moon;

I remember every book that you were reading,
You face glowed like crystal through the noon,
I'll love you forever, my lovely,

I'll hang myself really soon.

She walked into a room to find
butterflies that their owners had left behind

They were dead and scattered around;

She fell on the floor and shut her eyes

he ripped her head and stabbed her twice,



She was left to die
In a room full of butterflies.

You keep eating melons like you're kissing me,
You curl you lips on it like you are missing me

And I stare as the light falls on your eyes,
Everyday it's like a lullaby;

I may have God on my side to feel your skin,
You are an art of Van Gogh to begin with

I know I lie when I say that you are mine,

Into your eyes
It's a disguise, in the sea and the stars
With every thunderstorm I rush into your arms
Then I wake up next to you and you were never mine,

It's a lie, you're by his side.

I'm tired Carlie,
This marriage is a waste,
You have pretty hair, and skin that shines
But I don't want to see your face

I dimmed the light in my mistress's dine
She had charged me with gold and time
I wanted her heart but alas
I realised that it wasn't mine.

I was wet darling,
The kind that bled rain from scents,

The end of March came as a bliss,
You were the chance I'd hardly miss

Little pottery pourie, naked in bed and soaked,
She realised on April first, she was the pretty joke.

And I asked her the fun and frugal
Who else hangs themselves on Christmas walls,
What do they wish to be an astronaut or a pie?
Would they breathe to live or to wake up and die

It is rhetoric in reply

I have stopped listening to people talk
I just wear my blue fine dress,
I have sunken eyes that see no dreams
I feel no love during ***,
I have a green bottle marked mumbo jumbo
I will not sail for zero dreams
Although very often with my bruised heart I wake up from naps,
I make art out of blood down my nose
Tap tap,
I have stopped smiling in photographs.

For love, my beloved I compose no more of these sullen sonnets,
I would stare into your corazon and eyes that symmetry mine;

My love, my Jupiter, my universe in thine palms,
Your shadow in my arms,
My old and bickering laugh
And your back that stifles the old shrine,
You would be the world's lost diadem,
And little of mine,
I would die and be reborn in thine arms till the end of time.

I ensambled five Mediterranean men in a vase,
I cut their limbs and the aura it spilled;

Limbless and lifeless they looked pretty in my vase,
I gathered them from the valleys in the south,
And chopped their heads off.

I will float in the waters of Ganges till the end of time;

To be or not to be
A ratio in my mind

I'd like to ***** a needle
And run through burrows of sanctity
The alien nights of virtue
And pirates of Kashmir

My red, a colour of freedom

It *****.

I had known little of love,
Only that it stung;
The valleys of Kashmir, chrysanthemum
And the child selling lotus leaves!
Have I all the carnations and tulips

Yet I admire the little cherub of my Garden's marigold,
And watch it grow to life.

You were covered in snow
And that is the last time I met you
The first was a farce
You pretended was the truth;

Now you dangle in the cold
And I in your dice
You died for me

I waited for you in the ice.

" You look unhappy Mary, the job, the son, the life,
   Your medications seem wary, did you go outside and fly a kite?"

" My son had forgotten me Doctor, He left the other day with his wife,
  He had paid my debts but not my love and complained about strife,
  My only child and love of my life";

" What of your husband, I heard he won the lottery the other day,
   Bought a car, and good plumbing all with his pay?"

"My Husband loves me no more, money is his spouse
He butters the bread to our dog and talks to his house,
My life is bitter and yet I shine in gold,
I want roses and love
But "Mother I'll visit next time"
Is what I get told,
Mark my words doctor,
Give me medications no more;
I want my son, and my husband and my grandchildren
When I am old and I'm sore,
Tell them to fake it till I am weary and I die,
I don't want to live in gold and bear for my soul to cry,
I beg you doctor tell them to visit me, I'll give them gifts, I'll buy!
Tell them to visit this afternoon, I'll bake them apple pie"

My grey hair and seventy,
I have falsely grown my teeth,
I stand naked under city lights
I have cancer in my knees;

My wrinkled torso and mid-day job
Put me in my grave with bore
I remember the days I had little money,
Grades in my 10th grade I had scored;

I feel alive today under city lights
Once again I have been born
Before I die, my eyes should see the city lights
Instead of grass in the lawn.

I'm sorry, but I am terribly ****** up.

I'll try to mend things and smell your hair occasionally
I'll try to wipe medicines and love letters off your turquoise stained coffee shirt;

I'll even apologize and mend what's mine
I'll bare my heart to you,
I'll bare my heart to you
My dear Valentine.

Into a lunatic's drive,
I disheveled my car
It was made of melons, pineapple and figs
And an apple fish head ****
It has dead flies
Into the fiery lake, my Lucifer lives in a monastery
I rotate my cross
I hood my disguise,

My lucifer is made out of lies.

They are strangers;
They talk about the sun, the leaves and how they made love when they were seventeen,

They are strangers;
If I may, I observe the spring as it succumbs to a hurricane,

They are strangers;
They evolve from chimps
They drink from their failures and dive into their sins

They are strangers;
They are like metal bars with rust

I am a stranger,
And I'll soon evolve
Into dust.

I keep bowing down to you,
You are mine to keep.

It's time I'd forget that
And wipe my tears and go to sleep;
I'd find somebody else

I blink and I deceive.

I want to sit in a bathtub and cry
And sniff the steam and the pain
And the meanders and harrowing clean snip snap of my veins

I'd submerge myself into a land of pirates and ships where limits are endless and I sniff the steam from the engine's gate

Only to see that there is water beneath

My feet is dry and I submerge to endless breath and void
My Skin defeats the straight of sin and I am left with no choice.

My bathtub is the ocean floor and fishes gleam and glow
My childhood is crying next door
And I, am no more.

I had sunken to a ***** laundry bag
Midway to Okinawa, Japan.
Between withering away and weathering my eyes,
The dim lights of a downtown pub
Kept me surprised,
I'd like to recompose an absurd childless song
Where they tell us to clap our hands
And shout hurrah,
I would like to recompose happy
And use satisfactory, naivety
Meticulous synonyms to replace an absolute
Drastic, silly if I may!
As I wait for my birthday countdown
And live for a lifespan of ninety,
The leaves of an old, cultural Norwegian hymn
Lala with something to begin,
In the light of the momentum that
I am cutting cake and waiting to die,
Happy seemed hardly worthy to express
The nativity, nomenclature or if so I must say,
The happiness of the world.

What have I come to?
A dearth of longing's
An absolute catastrophe that I'd give birth to melancholy:
And absolute failure of a sheep in a tutu
And regress and turmoil that Miss Penny Shelly could compose
Magic:
A heart warming missing and yada yada nature with yada yada poetry and a he and a who and spring:
Poetry could mean anything

Or so they think.

I break down and my hands shake,
I am a man,
I breathe nicotine.

I am a man and clench my fists,
I drink like a mad broker who lost his deal.

I am a man and I cannot cry,
My masochism refrained me to do so

I am a man and I lost my pride
I' trapped in a woman's body for years now

My ******* say I lie
And my hips are made for birthing and wide

I'm a man who lost his woman
And he dug his grave last night.

To Melpomene,
I owe you stars
I'm sorry that I fell in love
I'm sorry that I miscounted my ways
And adhered to the blissful days;

I parted ways with grief and shame
And fell in love yesterday
I fell in love and stepped in vain
I am now a man in chains

Rousseau forgive me for this muse,
I fell in love and that's no excuse
I am ashamed of my silly pride
I locked my yesterday during search and hide

In an attempt to ease my grief
I stepped into an era of sleep
And now I wake and look at light
Love is faux pass, no more mine to keep.

I'd like to pack my suitcase
For the night
And drift away
In the high sky.

I'd like to ask who are we or
Who am I
When the northern wind blows over the sea

I'd like to ask what we are going to be
Whether fifty or free,
I'd like to lie on the softest grass
Under the skies
For an eternity.

There are puddles near my house,
Puddles near my heart

You have got to be an artist
You have filled my life with art

I will sunshine you with love,
Don't leave me alone my lovely,

I will rest in peace
When I'll share an umbrella with you.

Can I share an umbrella with you?

Tell me my lovely,
I have hid my pain with failed attempts and perfumes.

There is no postman
For my himistu no letters

Secretly I fold the page into two halves
And neatly write about the trees and the stars,
Sometimes about berries and sprouts
Sometimes how you got lost in the crowd;

I have written my Himitsu no letters
And kept them folded in the hole between the walls,
I know you will never receive them.

Yet, I have written how much I love you,
Below them all.

The jute bag made an astonishing appearance as it
fell with apples on the ground,
It was Marque that Lorlei had found.

Spanish tales with foil and grief
had braved the tale of Lorlei and Marque,
The tomato juice from Marque's ears had flown to Lorlei's hidden letter
And poison that fish swim and ate,
Consumed by fisher men and people at the gate
It was a ball that determined their fate
Lorlei had gone and sung to Marque
They lay asleep with sense and sensibility
Beside each other,
On their marital bed.

I left an umbrella at the bus stop
The umbrella was yellow and grey
It had broad stripes on either sides
It was used during rain and a sunny day

The umbrella was left alone,
Along came a dog with a bone
And in the ardent summers of may
Beside the umbrella it lay;

A day later, A man came with his wife
She looked at the umbrella and thought it was pretty nice
They waited for the bus to arrive,
But the umbrella lay still at the side

It was one day when I came back again
And saw the umbrella held it's place,
It's handle was broke and filled with grease
It was filled with holes, yet stood with ease
It fell on the ground
When it was pushed by my little niece
My umbrella was abandoned again,
It had gone weary and with rusty chains.

Young Mohan was three by the time
Borders were made
And an angry facist peddler sung in disdain,
Sentiments were breached and so was time,
There were bloodsheds more often by the time he was nine;
In patriotic leu and an abundant of moral synecdoche
Religion, apathy, martyr meaning terrorism
Young Mohan was thrown
As a vendor who stole money
And saw women on screen,
The green had gone green
Humanity was a partake on films
Flimsy films and orange bandanas
Verbal stench ruining the hymn of jove,
Topsy turvy Independence naught,
Mohan had seen women with tops
And women without them,
He had seen them dressing with conch flowers delicate on their boudoir of black facade,
And he stared to what the Country had become
In the orange lights of Saree,
And the spit of beetle juice,
His country was sold.

Kaboom!
I shoot myself
Kaboom!
Here we go again

In the head Henry,
In the head

On a summer's night,
I killed you.
I panicked, and cried
And picked up the telephone.
"Hello, I killed a man,
He is dead, I could have ran
But I love him and I'm bold,
His scones and tea have turned cold;
In the drawing room carpet he lay,
As if asleep like yesterday,
I took a knife and stabbed him thrice
His favourite food was curry and rice;
He came back home everyday at three
He would rush into my arms and hug me
He kept my picture on display
And smiled at me everyday,
I stabbed him thrice and shot him twice
And held his body and cried all night
I proved to be a killer this time
Instead of being a loving wife;
Arrest me and take my life"

"Ma'am I'm sorry but you husband is gone
It has been 10 years and forlorn,
It was the rain when you came to me
And he was lying beneath the tree,
A car had hit him a night on May
I remember everything clear as day
His love hasn't set you free,
You are delusional,
Can't you see?"