Sleeps like money
Wakes up looking like a million bucks
Dreams about possessions, leaving them in the stream of rapidity
Consciousness anno domini, the year of Lord
Subconsciousness, in the past before the clergy
With these desires, came conquest of your dreams.

The universal energy
That keeps me together with you
Is the same reason why stars seem huddled up in the night sky
Even though we are of different sizes, and quite far apart
Sigh

The set in the stuff of the moribund
The sand of the rise of the tides
These memories come out in strange shapes
Offering mirages in the vivid sun
Looks like your idea of the image is all that stays
It's derived from the dealing of thirst for different shapes
And question mark only comes when you reach a full stop to your journey
Did you die tentatively, or were you always desolate and alone?
Draped in your own shadows, billowing?
That's the curtain call.

If you keep thinking over the same drugs
I'm afraid
We're have reduced your dosage
An electric shock in the next 2 hours
A buzz should keep you gliding for two minutes
Without the knowledge of how the clock ticks after 12, past midnight
While inmates are sleeping, peacefully, I'm sure you're you are wandering about at 2 in the morning
I am certain you are wandering, and precociously searching for the right escape as your search ends in velleity
Since you already know the answer
To leaving this institution without reprieve and any spontaneous knowledge
So, don't do drugs or they will **** you first.

The steel lights were somewhat like a diner's candle
Half lit
Warmed by the black and bliss
The blue stamps rang on the fluorescent dandelion
The blue of the moon didn't hide any of its flame and flight
Half knit
Teeming with swarms of armed forces looking for Vietnam, belligerently
The sultry forests, are we even burning trees?
What is going on?

Did you write the end of
The story
I am pretty sure, it won't ******* write itself

Do you still love me?
Are you still thinking about me?
Like the rainy walk that never skips your mind?
When the water seeps into your bones
Does the old age remind of the tones of the adult you became
The morning of the placid teenagers seems quite reckless
They look at your emotions only offering their confusion
The destitute label goes away when you're cleansed by the silver rain
It is unfortunate, that I do not see you in the rain
Any more and the walk is just a recess in this receding rain

Love finding that I love talking to you
I am all over it
I suppose
A treasure trove, a confusing cornucopia
Ordinary life can be quite easy
Unless you're trying to better, for somebody else
It's very feeling that keeps you awake
When you should be asleep, with someone else
On your arm and ear to ear, the fan stirs the hairs lightly
Your arduous glances show some dizziness, maybe I'm just livid
But, I remember vividly that you were characteristical about ***
Quite a character, you were an affair, not a friendship
Not a rendering resident in my empty mind
Why goest in thy shiny car, without the single time in the night?

He asked if I wanted
A flower
I said, grow a pair of forget-me-nots

You think heaven's fire
If you left
The funeral pyre, in one piece of stone

There is a continuity
In this curated knowledge we have
Make the right conclusions
Live numbered days
Live long enough to make sense of the universe
The stars are what we strive for
Black holes or this definitive knowledge
Celestial order where there are both motions
And duality, where do we find the end of these processes
To the third stone from the Sun
Many of the phenomena that exist in this expanding astute universe
Will make your wildest imaginations seem tame

The boy with the soulless eyes
Never dies
Even if he tries
Finding fresh air
In a blue cambric
Made by nuns in their tunics
Is a fickle thing
You're the soul of the occult, they said giggling

God, you're neurotic
Your Jihad
Can't handle the stoic eroticism
Of blackened offals often bloodied, resonant with the old religion

The mason and the carpenter
Try fixing
The God-awful statue in the church

The guy does his part
In the bleeding lady
Sizes them in comeuppance

An atheist and believer
Both go to a bar
Come back home, and believe in God

The night and the year
The time and tears
The sudden nature and human nature
The fears of fine lines

Some of us are piqued, and some of us intrigued
The hidden exposition of this pain is wisdom gained
In my past, I'm still suffering once again
Because of my age

Ye shores in the evermore
I look to you to walk under moonlit
Times under the years of the sophomore

The clime and timeless skies
Make another rainbow
Maybe, glancing somewhere over the rainbow
Like a midnight spoon, high and near

Modernized
Inclined
Spontaneous
Sorry

The bells tolling and gallow stools
Carved by a crisp knife sharpened by a stone flint-shaped among the garden tools
The molded and weak rose like the solid and stolid coveting
The dolorous limelight seekers were sure about the fun settling
The call-in your wake is sure to make you disagree, subversively
Pretentious till it leads me into ruinous states, with each verse
Troubled and telling about the stoic salacious dread, of your *******
The sins and arresting rebels brought you minister and spirit
The apologetic and shrieking in their walls their apologies
Am I the only one, who thinks
They don't change their disposition
Time I'm tearing you up into fragments
My stories are getting caught up in their endings
Caught by the hook of standing on the ceiling, rear-ended
The knee-deep hell, mountain high harp, what the ****!
Reelin' and rockin' in heaven, indeed purgatory calls your bulls and porgies
Greed and corporeal blood and recipe for dreadful disaster, and luck you yammer about out-and-out too
It's in your flesh and bones, ****** vain too
Feels like time is slipping and sliding out of my oval face and hateful hands
The friends you seek to hold you when you're ready?
Blows, busy days, France in its hey-day had some passion rather saints who come marching in
Are you ready to read your death in the newspapers, when your stomach lurches like holes in the air
Or here from storytellers like a burnt legacy, in the papers that herald flying guns and leveraging politics
And hate, rising with the ashes, the education burning blue like a phoenix
Apogee, really, after so many a doubt and clusterfuck of redactions, I'm ready to learn about counted visage among the many faces on a business street
About my attraction to nature and fantastic reality, I'm jumping with joy
But, smaller than the cosmic bubble that keeps us from dying
I can tell no one, this is our one and only time with faded humor
You're breeding and you're dying with famished and frayed daughters of petulant sons believing hilarious rumors
I am dismembered much to my won't, the stentorious frolicking reeks around astute anecdotes of my pain of having a name
Even it's a fake one and adopted by pretty old me
The antidote of all this, love and peace, it must be the end of fashion and integrity
Peace and love cradling the waves wandering in mystery
Walking among the feet of trembling rage hungry for power, our love is just an island, but, not the little flower that just matured
If I engender myself, I will be free from being prematurely always on
Smidges and shakes for the collared contingent of successful women
For the one, surreptitiously resting under the invisible sun, sticking out their necks for none
Smack her flesh across till light turns still
The center light pops in expectation of blue days and flooring her money on her mind
On the reeling hail, tying the wrong laces and pushing wrong buttons
I left the hall crazed and surprisingly fully-dressed
Snake-like heads facing away from each other with their smothering hands around my neck
I unhand my royal touch and my license for the cream-crop
Not sure about my violence and clammy hands, but, my old man didn't like it all that much
Handing the trembling papers of my record for another dispensary
The errands that I have to run, I would recommend this to no one
Watching movie reruns and playing my new dreams in my trailer park, every time she was the one
Tea and teeming, brink and livid feeling, reelin' with the great high upstart
Cosmopolitans and Neapolitans, I'm probably going play to Jupiter jazz for another meridian of Earth
Red rain splaying like the sand Andalusian like, waving my hands care-free, only to slam my self down easily
Into another speakeasy with a wake-up call and nightcap, dusk till dawn
The day seems brighter and the sun scintillating like the queenie-eyes on the resting sunshine on the iridescent soil
Ecstasy open miles ahead, the eyes lay in peace and capacious lamps full of soul food and meals
Like lamps and little lintels, the coruscating fire makes the colors of the day seem much more real
The tears in Heaven are adjusted for a place in my salvation
Vitriolic, but, mellifluous in it's surmise, you're sure about the music you're hearing
Crouching upon old times like washed memories
Or is it the waters of the ocean afar from snake-like repellent waves of the oceanic dreams
The snake passes by, in the time of your lifeless soul
You were just pacing yourself, the motto is "Always look your prime and best"
They are your true reflection, this is the one and only reflective surface I will attest to, lest I sound sanctimonious
Bo vine and in vino veritas, you're ecstatic about auriferous objects
Sheep and tipping civilization with the conquest of the times, and the same sundial from Eratosthenes that made citadels
The conquest of Troy is any different from the present oligarchy
Librarian of Alexandria, and the Trojan horse of cursed hands mixed with the opportunity
A couplet for a couple of composite numbers is enough to tempt the prime number
In showing up in your  classes brimming with achievers, some students among them
Eratosthenes' sieve is diligent work on simplicity, so yes, whoever reads this, the wake-up call is not a snake bite
This is Stoicism, and poetry is stoic writing cannot be duplicated
The moral could be looking at hopeless dreams, helplessly
Just passing by without shedding any of it on your probity

If I wanted to jump
I'd fly
Away from this feeling.

I hope the command
Doesn't wander
That I want you to get better
Is it in your head?

Being or being free
Humanly this just a feeling, accretion builds me
The creation is bliss, blending with my curiosity

The undulation of the circus
Respiratory laughter and the accord is sewn
In his hair and half time is gone for the darker time
In this waning swan song
Now a life beyond his obsoleteness and her own, are we really perceiving their problems as a whole
As our own judgments cloud our derisive destination, leaving us on the road
We keep hating ourselves for the wrong reasons, are never truly free
The wars are never stalled and rebarbative delayed right after
The inclination we have towards our civilized sleep becomes rather rapid fleeting like an ephemeral glance
Retire and find what you admire, in this vastness of metaphorical life, and swim?
Where everyone loses meaning after, they are put out to work?
Are we relying on ourselves or letting ourselves go?
It's the thought that counts and the kind gestures will never stop
Just go and get anything you can set your mind to
Don't stop, till the fight is done
Don't fight, if you cannot stop all those thoughts
Simply wishful that they were words rather than feelings?
You probably feel like the rest of us, in this vast world of life and wilderness
Wildlife is something that resides in us, binding us in the starry stuff
Redacting everything believes in is the first step to a mind held without indescribable fear
Rain song wash away my tears
Like you wash away the levees that are holding back your freedom

You cannot find the sunflower samurai
Because your thoughts are
Under the invisible sun

The difference between
Knowing and understanding
Is the apparent consequence

I broke my toilet
And my narrative
Humor was profound like the war

As the term ends, our high school diploma got older
Some were getting wasted, or some couldn't handle the pressure
The pleasure came in some wasted alley where there was such moribund or hatred
As the term ends, our high school became more diplomatic in such erfolgt
They had finally realized that teaching them literature would cause a gilded outbreak
They hadn't contained the outrage of a few failing students hung by a very thin thread
Posers and imposters were making the most of this water
Putting any more biological crap would make education a palabra

You are a part of this di scion
A fallacious stride hurts your articulus genu
Genuinely sore wa tsumete wa, kokoro ko nanda demo natte
Genus and class doughnut matter when you're in the dorsal shadow
Underclassmen stifled by the pernicious tsuakata kumorobi do
Flying on swift imagination, rare as imaginary folklore
I wish I could fly and soar

Cold heaven could you be like this
Still, time keeps looking at my vigilant whites
The timekeeper on this eternal gaze on loveless souls
We could be like this, and remiss by the straits of direct derelicts
Understanding the giant
Is by being in its shadow
Like a heron
I put my beak in the water without a heart that dies
Like a fish
Escaping this forgone breast of civilization flowing freely
Mollient like money
Crying tears in demanding work without wage and a light at the end
Order and occults are all part of the same isthmus of divine love

Set me deep down
And pick me apart, when you feel like
'Cause I know you won't forget to remember
Keep me confused
With your picking up
Writing blocks about a stuck tape recorder

Every artist is an intellectual
Until
They get nervous

Step by step, tyranny
Tease me rough without laches
At least don't leave me in your protean arms, dissembled in activism
In my forged memoir of your laughing, your kauch killing me not
My katzenjammer can handle your astute Aesop's words and wanton
A lullaby to remember, an anxious feeling?
Pick me up at the open-sesame street
Lacunae, propitious, wasted by the remonstration and impertinence
This is my land of thought full of moral desert, in confidence
I am Tyler Durden's wasted brother in arms by namesake

I like how you shoot blanks, at me America
The way you pollute the atom bomb with your poor threats
I love the way you lie, America
You make me feel great again, and this country's climactic progress
I love the way you dress, America
You make a great stride when you read my emails and texts
I just understand how much need me, America
You would lose your identity if the New York boy didn't have a rich life
Smoking marijuana and drinking his cockamamie schemes by repealing claims from coked-up ******* rabbits
I like how you want to educate the youth, America
But, abort the freedom of women by not letting them choose, and regret

America you have changed my mind
You have finally won this argument of cataclysmic proportions and purposeful debate
By throwing obfuscation and f-bombs at the fake press
You have clouded my thoughts when I was sure about my services to this nation as a legalized smoker
America where art thou without the pristine freedom you make no light about
America where art thou est speak without instituting astute speech and repute for the self-made bourgeoisie
Where is the freedom you talk about if we are indeed liberated by overtures of powerful pleats of pages of the pothered plea promising trees
Does Make America Great Again, come hither?
Oh, America, we are envious of you because are just so proud
Like doting parents, we hope you stargaze in the global tangent of sarcastic racism and detention
We hope you find your true colors, America
Because it isn't Red, blue and white like someone's head in the clouds
It's purple and full of falling stars like a bruised ego
Like mandrake roots, where you sit upon the edge of emptiness
The ominous time which comes with our prose and fuller faces
We aren't scared of spending your money, America
Lest you spend ours and waste our time, you empty spectator

You really need a clasp
On the fair-headed looking for the essence of rain
Or you risk gasping for air
The knaidel startled me when I shared by numnahs
With the sensory deprivation that looked like the amnesiac
Running to pay the rent for my books
A young girl helped me sincerely and she was dead
In the library, who kept forgetting as they were trying to keep the books again
Curating each memory
Clasping the candle in the dark
We are finding love in the dancer of the dark
Maybe, we might want to leave the impression of dark people to a thousand stolid poles of lights bequeathed to the poor with their cold quilt

Sword-like jump over killer blades
Cutting through thinned ice and putting fire to flesh and bonds
Bodegas on the street light up like a tin corner, sending into the spinal cord fears and love foremost
Kintesuroi heaps flares wiping off your und ich lieb dich doch like shiny gold
Free by the lancing
Tell me how I love you, lapas lazuli, with eyes flashing like droll dreams
Ultramarine is where life gets discordant, oh yeah, you fill my fire
With sands of time, buying you a reprieve from the ultimate reward of pulses
Which is I'm not a man of the sword
But, I'm a man of my word
Gashing your thin air of sensual swords in the air of the ******* testing time for our friends who have our condolences
Not a callous coward subject to abandoning the contingent of buskers following feudal Japan and it's mandamus
Without leaving a dollar for the chilling murders
A walk on traveled souls might water and fire, a lot like the hotness of my temper
This tempered glass might stick like the simplicity of the pogrom
Bamboos shield us in the whistling wind of flight, letting us sword dance like assassins

The derision of the derided of the dedicated to the storm
The fire and the ice and the love and the rights and people of the demise of the dear and the redeemable
Medication and rumination sounds rather medical can you take through the bridge and preamble
Without the rhyme and pressing matters of the youthful climb
This is just a success ladder and a rare woman
Lugging a leather bag, pursed lips ready for sudden panging hunger
Like a feather fad endemic and indolent in nature, the droll *******
You telling me I'm alacrity and criminal in the numinous nimble loss for words, the fake feeling
Bewwushteinshlage tell me I'm not rising with the tide, the dyer maker
Hot dripping and filling and dryer head full of hairy dreams
The seeds and searching for the demise of the promising song
And the fresh feed of afraid and fearful peaceful people in this clouded age and premise obsessed by flippant speech
Of hungry people acting so foolishly and speaking through their teeth for the representatives of the burning heart of education
Good glaciers are this a revelation and puerile pride and repeat the same behavior if it's so lyrical
Can I tell my sorrows, and the thorough and boughs rescinding of the glances
Advancements come and go, the gut feeling is good to row
The feeling of building and the bullish ****** find of joking kindred spirits
Drilling pleasantries into ole' midterm me losing my feet and losing my need for finishing school
From the rise of the morning, the time is frolicking and not easy
Someone's running from the hopeful and the ****** and the futon for the shrink's naysay
Daydream and rolling dear ad veritas in this vine of dwindling nations, just a glass domino
Words falling like a little limerick and it hurts just distress others
Taking sister act and the distance doesn't matter to someone obsequious and robed
We are stunned by your logic and your jokes, but, you need to shut the **** up
Finally, awaken the human up and stare at the cellar and have a drink
Before the new fire sails through your life instead of the old flame you remember

The lovely new girl across the street
Looks like you might need new shoes
Because you keep walking into her
Maybe, she even likes it if you bump into her with an obviating feeling
You cannot place on your finger
Thence, she keeps wrapped around her fingers
Like a doorknob willing to hear you knock
Her brass apart
The lovely new girl across the great steel bully, can't look
Because she's busy gazing into those steely eyes
If you could find some warmth in her shade
Then, you could see past her schaffer who tends to her mascara
Holding on to your thrill like a race car, she'll never drive
Maybe, she does love the adrenaline of making the same choices with boys
The lovely new girl stays right next door
If you only could see past her unfurled face
And find her heartbeat
Love her like you love the spontaneity
Often, you will never want to see her desultory
But, if you coffer fill and prefer her hillybilly feeling
Or more like piqued interest in her hair that flows like stems and red rain
Welding the welcoming greetings of porous substrates of fresh lakes
Which you can see through very clearly
Lovely new girl, we see through you very dead
Lerners glance in the thick air of thallasophiles who believe in conquest
You'd cross many seas to find the right time in the right place, midnight comes softly like a adventure in a touseled hair guy

You're abstract
Like the wind
But, when you speak you poke
But, I can't touch you

I thought of a line
I could cross
If only I didn't misstep in the first **** with redness
Swapping bodies, seemed like swordplay
Trust was borrowed, like time in the place of battle
Cry if you will, in the dilemma of letting and let life take what it has to give
Commitment to your own doubts and drawbacks might not be living
If you do not learn to let go
I thought of a line
I could cross
Depends on whether you printed it and declined the advance
You could learn a few lines of a variety of virgils
Looking over the conscientious  daffodil
Like many flowers passed by my window
Beautiful like a writer and a rainy day that comes in livid pragmatic migrant
You learn to observe reality and keep as your own
But, that is just your interpretation
I could see through those tearful eyes when I loved for the first time
Looks like you cry over the same cracks of time
Crooked and prelude

A song kid talked of poetry
Like it was placed for thinking and for presentation
And nature was written in the attraction to creative arts
She kept burning the midnight oil
The streets were illuminated by the flame of distress and desire
To become better, and the single line that she knew honestly
Life might talk of different angles to the wretched circumstance
The perception of a child in the poor encumbrance of a truly myopic poet
The one of toil and summer, and writhing in your experiences
Life can be complex for someone who writes on demanding terms of endearment
This is called achievement and recess, or talk of wisdom

The frescoes of the overture
Of the laconic halls that turned
Into silence
The solar system looks right
Cowling and Scowling, and my airplane doesn't have any money
A splendor changed life now my time has come
Repairs and beef
Well, it won't when we have a fight
When I wake up, we make peace
I have seen this one and many times
This isn't the first one of them
Halcyon, as if it isn't the hey-day people
Neo-zoon dweebs who believe in Zeitgeist
However, there is much to be seen in this lifeless thing
You mean a dream
Dreams are just for real
But, it's the reality, I seek your impulsive tendencies
Buttressed by an affinity and this my fallacy
Sounds like a surgical decision if you tremble with fear
Truculent and truant people are here, oblivious of their hatred
Bundled like thespians, these boxes lie here desolate and warm
Keeping your memories and possessions like an image of folks
Hello to your poetic device that thrills my red eyes

The time might seem
To fly
When the memory dissipates into thin air into a fugue
When time went
To fly
We left like birds from a red sky in the vagrant sky

Thou est speak
Separately and in speech
Your life shys from the light
Where is your violent life
In purple bruises or redness of your cheeks
Just like a child afraid of the dark
Turns into the bard of barren times
Laconic about his problems
And inclement about his cumulus
The turbulent seas finally shine on this sunset line
Burgeoning bright oars from the stygian life
The tridents push you into the frescoes of reconnaissance
As you lose control of your helm
Your poem comes to a pensive finish
Making someone's poetry better and brighter ad
Cantankerous about fuliginous lines and the velleity towards writing disappears
Some lines for your frostbitten ears
That feel like the heat of icy burn of some desolate polar boreal search

The passions and pursuits all bunched in one
Makes one happy
And fun

The flow of the water is harsh
When it gains speed
It's soft when it's stagnant on marsh
It's changed when the trees are burning as we speak
But, the water might drown us out and so will our mistakes
So, I'm precarious about cynicism
About time I find the right piece of me
In these broken places
Where there schisms and facsimiles of the same problems
My responsibilities are resonant with their yeses
But, my passions keep telling me to change-up
My pursuit is somewhere in between this mess

Heralded indeed
Was this breathless feeling
Of breezing and the teasing feet
Splashed against the cerulean waters
Washing away the moss green
Maybe the earth could be a mimosa
But, that's just forgetful of me
Depends on how you look at what you're seeing
Watching the frenetic play on words gets my mind reeling
So, keep writing poetry even it has sesquipedalious happiness

I washed ashore on the ripples of my memory
Tipping on the edge on a mortal island
And my mortality seemed greater
The accosted sailor had saved me in a fit
He saw me with a nightlight
I call it a large lantern
Simple really if you wonder how many people
Would never find among the flora and fauna
Understanding the flow of the universe
And I found my peace already
Or I thought it was better than changing my rhyme each verse
That's why the free verse is like this
When you look at the things you observe
But, you miss something in them and the going gets tough
The lugubrious streets are something imprinted
So, I kind of glad that the sailor changed my mind about the reverse
And the fate I had was maybe changed by a Godly act
And my human luck
Or it was just the flow of the universe that I landed upon
And islands were just a part of the metaphor
That was lucidly my life
Liberating myself from these lintels and circumstances, it's hard to forget that ballad
The song of poetic device like assiduous alliteration of the streetlamps
Sequacious sundry of people and the contingent of the serried three
People on a lone boat occupied the place
And burned the forests down to an ashen pile
These sailors had come looking for old gold

As there was not much time to feel sorry
I held back my words and felt I had left the world without words

Cuprous blue seeps into the hue
Of copper salts that are soluble to a certain degree
Ionized by the quantum physics of fluid mastery
Some of us call it mechanics, unable to find the shapely
This semblance of a resolute material dissipates into amorphous structures
Characterized by homogeneity
The redness of the sky might be because the highest wavelength fits
I guess it's survival of the fittest
But, all of them are pretty light and coruscating
In this rainbow of seven hues and seen from a mathematicians perspicacity
In a chemist's hitchhiking imagination on highflying LSD
Desolate from his experiences, reveling in his trident of discovery
Meditation, microdosing, and maths can make a deadly concoction
So when will you wake up, if a chemist saw the light in ego death
When will you wake up, if a physicist saw the nature of light in it's the essence
Maybe, you understand the mathematics of this astral world based on senescence governed by adic numbers
Maybe, you understand the rush of not being anywhere that is akin to progress
The perfect circle might be a loquacious description of pi
If you are correct till each decimal point
Making your place on this map, with numbers that guide your numbered time

The breezing wind touches the flowers
That's why I look at the sky
So, that I can breathe in the aroma of floral spirals
In a box full bees and flowers
There resides a pollinating bud
Blouse stripped open, like a buzz bee