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Jul 2019 · 54
Haiku Of Shame And Guilt
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
The sacrifices
You make, mother never grow old
But, my excuses do
Jul 2019 · 341
Hummingbird Hides
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Search your soul, linger till you grow
Old in fields of gold, rain comes so does the hope
Hostile buildings flying around the head, like buzzing bees
Criminalizing every last convict
Coining every last name in the prison register
Treason and trainwrecks have conviction in common
Break the tough chains, with tough breaks
Tinkering like thirty-years
Breeding and birth is a part of the fleeting memory, of high and dry
Try and you can quench the thirst of a couple of people at the end of the road and the rotation of crowds
Brimming with satisfaction, I can't find the child that's always dissatisfied
A bridge on time of carnage would be better than burning the commodores
****** mysteries and bebop, tell you can light your own enigma
Lady luck is fickle, she got razor-sharp claws and got 'em all
Too bad she tears up the fateful roads that are meant to cross-point like the stars on Moonlight drive
Fear in the darkness and in the loathing of Las Vegas
Leers and glances of the beatnik and bookish boys, gracing every with their masculine advances
Being bums and being contended
Pardon me, c'est la vie, cinema mon amour
The shards of saviors slashing samurai swords and serried sands
Lands, composed the Magna Carta of the time and sending off
The harakiri killed the suicide solution, the feudal times with Japan in the cherry blossom
Trees falling transient photos, stills on the artist within, touch the sword
Can't get the arrows and bows, quip, fly the mistakes by the taste of killing stakes
Bleeding soldiers, in the thousand men in gracious faceless
Read-write the scrolls that stand the test, emptiness is just a reflection of the blind
Eye to eye, blinking can't avert an artist's eyes
This is the hummingbird that hides, the cusp of time and cutting vernacular
The chirping and belonging of the terse stories of the counts and countesses of the summer loathing
Heralding the sun, and it's God in the sands of time and talk of tides
Working like the winds and winding solar clocks, and lunar dials
Tellin' and reelin' in the direction of the red skies, see where they make their mirages
Jul 2019 · 124
Blitzkrieg Fortune
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Another's garden tending to another
Washing their bougainvillea and their chrysanthemums
Like forests burning arboreal
Till the thick airbrush of gelid arboreal mysteries keep towering
Over the skies of some surplus woodcut by lumberjacks that can grow more papers
Papyrus manuscripts of minor league baseball games bring out the socialist shame
Shards of glass doors showing shark-like predatory pain
Moors and domes like murky hills of darkness hovering over the town
Calling the fireman, when he's not around
Disappearing with the snowy peaks, that there is reparation
Preparing folks for talk and meals
Follow me where I clear, the hollow men
Straw hats and everything
I flow down nothing lane, I'm not here
Insane, it isn't happening
Frescoes of paints of lamps on fearful sunset lanes
Flickering like little stars, brighter than the boreal forests
Fuliginous verdant ardent dreary forests, look like buildings
Concrete jungle, welcome me into the pain for the little town
Freewill and strobe lights, and hope speaks out
Fly and hope, hopeless love clears out those melting rains, like deserts thick as train smoke
Cerise rain doesn't stop in the Blitzkrieg belt, the promise of fortune climbs like hail
Jul 2019 · 145
Island Telegrams
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Island telegrams randomly shuffling in the sun
Reading between the lines of tides and stones
Time and tide wait for no one unless you're a bone
Ill or hope, you're in desperate need of a bridge
Lest you end up without a savior, Samaritan who reads your island telegrams
That I can see, or at least grab onto the ropes
Carry your clothes on your camping trip, shuffling through the zenith
Wordsmith where is your inspiration, if I taking everyone for what they're looking for
Random shuffling in the sun
Rest in peace, and ****** make-believe will all be written in a message in a bottle
Dry as the dead, and floating like the oversoul; this is my last chance at ending strong
Contained by the empty vessels that navigate the seas without captains or winds
Contending the eye in the sky, projecting some prior survival
Deceased by being stranded, so it seems that I've landed
Truncheon things and turn-tables and blunt knives are in
When will sharpies come out, to write these word down
I suppose those are written in a crimson tide, tired of recognition and fertility
I love these fertile feelings, I suppose you could curb your streets for another home
I'm leaving this humble abode too soon, you might ride on the storm
Hitchhike the galaxy, sail the seas, and explore oceans; go-ahead big life
You seem to be kind enough, to help those lost and stranded
That's what you said when you read my eyes, and read my mind
You could see me beg for better ways to express the truth through island telegrams
Like the deserted island on the sky, that knows no peak
How do I come down, from this pedestal of accepting my own destiny?
When will make me the eye in your sky?
God, when will stop leaving chances to precarious bottles talking of pernicious palpitations that tell me I'm a vagrant
In someone else's stories, the island with the nicest view
Bruised and broken, starting again with a better beginning
How is that possible, that I come back from my infantile tendencies
The trepidation stays like themes and deniers, who deny my expressions and honesty
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Time's in on my side
I can't get enough of the tridents, of the hour clock
Looks like the eternity is gonna be an hour now
Holding a bellicose rain in my palms, I know it's my own tears
These tears should haven't left my side, and out of reprieve
I can't keep feeling melancholy if the heartbeat skips at the sign of heat
These warm tears have remembered many of these memories
Journal of the black book, I don't know
I'm not sure if I can judge, the marching saints either
I find my sins in a cup of silver, gold's expensive ****
Flying like a trembling feather is giving me frickin' fever
I hope someone's catches on to my predicament, quickly...
Or I'll be hanging off the minute hand, like a sledgehammer
Bring on your best chances, with the possibilities
The lack of dreams make it my reality, that this must be a happy ending
In an hour's time, I might be your man in this beastly land
Jul 2019 · 160
Genesis' Ornithology
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
The optimist is technical about his dreams
The realist is political about his philosophy
The pessimist is looking at the glass, wondering
The politician is sure, he will drink up the whole thing
Wings of fists should be hurled at these inns situated with flings
The banker is sure that he will follow the stars of confusion
When the houses crash like the ending of radicalism or shaking money-makers
Stringently, striding, stirred-up; I can't get enough
Staccato, semaphoring, please stop; was that you, or me
Stentorian or is it a voice, just a word that gives me sesquipedalophobia
Too many words, by now that why we should leave immortal institutions
Following Immanuel's Kant's words, he'd have a palpitating heartbeat, since, I generalized philosophy
I guess we let six days of fiction fly, why weren't olden people persuing
Reading their manuscripts, and making books by the 15th century
Can find me a couple of ordinary names in a book of deities?
Half-measures and half-wit got me nowhere
Arriving somewhere, as I arose to the departed memory of dying
I feel alive, this might be just the bird that flys
God, please do not fight me or make me slap myself for wanting more.
Since it's a Genesis' Ornithology, truth is only subject to philosophical argument, or religious extremism
Jul 2019 · 110
Whinging Town
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Where's my job or occupation?
On this planet of employed men working line by line
Excusing none, as long as they are criminals in dream theatres
Or nepotist rebels, you call radical artists to build in ceramic pots
Tell me what's in the name of money, a jade sword
Is it your greed, that you learn your hunger from, a bleeding cut
Or the foolish is it if I ask you such a catatonic question, reading out
Unfeeling is it if I ask for a catharsis without cheapening feelings
Chester chooses his chestnuts well with magazines
Her name's on your tongue, but, her flights a long way off
True isn't it, that sky clears for checkers and crimson skies
Gosh, I wonder where you're looking for flickering lights
On the sun or the runaway journey, that ends on the runway
You could be running, tell it isn't your hesitation
It's just a chemical romance and repentance, for having inhibited yourself
Why stop yourself, if you have all the papers necessary?
People never stop when the traversing is just the thing they need
Travel is life, so are timeless things
I wonder how long we'll be here, really
Jul 2019 · 127
Water And Fire
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Drive-bys on the road
**** your darlings
I will put sunshine your shoals
Be on the shore of doubt, as we move to seas
The crossing distance between the hiatus and cars
Trailer park homes seem welcoming, in this jungle of fire
My heart's one and only desire is to love you
I hope I don't get lost in the wrong pyromania
Maniacal as it may seem, I want your conscious mind for me
To make my important decisions, relatable if it is
We will breathe with the breeze that freezes in between
Lost at the heralds of the emerald sea, shining like cerulean waters
I'm not sure, I want the fire of desire or the waters of peregrination
Journeyman follow my command, I guess I asked too much of you
Or of your lost hope, in this drowning breeze that flows in eddies and currents
Love is just a flowing desire, fluid like water and sordid like fire
The feeling is on fire, and the desire's the only real thing
I can't generalize really, you make the conclusive evidence of my lovely concepts
You're sure, that's me or you, in this world of roundabout cities and largest dreams
Circumference of this ring of fire is which is perfectly wrapped around my ring finger
Is this the old me, or am I looking for old ways
Passing through stores, and running looking for summer kool-aid
This summer smells nice, so does the stagnant dreams
Waiting to flower like blossoming buds, in a collection of hanging things
I'd list these thesis items down, but, they're too educated for my taste
It's my light, and shining it on the wrong people, is pretty much how a broken flashlight works
Words rhyme inadvertently with some intention, insane isn't it
That you agree with others and tell children to sit down
Might and dry winds change these crossing starry-eyed loner stoners
I base myself to disabuse the **** out of every situation
But, it's not in my purchasable items
Looking for weights to carry, and burdens too run away with
No machine, am I, I am dead just like the onus that can be apolitical at times
Love them two times
Love them three times
They just seem to fade with the count, like natural numbers
Patterned and woven like dreadlocks of legendary pathos
Little did I know, to do what I say as the money keeps me awake
That's the logic I follow, it's a statement without purpose
Bridling pots, I can't relate
The time's changing, so that's what they say?
This **** is cooked and raw, at the same time
Like woks on earth's water and fire, fiefdom asks for too much
Pertinently I ask for their grace
With petulance, I ask for favors
These aren't a few of my favorite things, at least they are temporary
Jul 2019 · 50
On The Other Side
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
To a soulmate.
I don't know who you are
I'm sure we would be better off
Without names and puerile suspense
I'm certain that I sing the same songs
You reverberate with me like the bath and submerged destiny
Let's hope we meet at the horizon, call it a flip of a coin
Or fate?
Love
~your other side
Jul 2019 · 144
Eye In The Sky
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
You can free me
Step into the sun
Call it a day of Heaven and polyamory
Jul 2019 · 76
Dreams
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Don't wait for me
I'm always here in tried and tested time
Falling by the remnants of my old trees
Fallowed memories, marsh they appear
Unhappy girl, why are you here?
Jul 2019 · 52
Never Going Back
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Simpler desires, you're made of
Someone traps herself in those criminals fires
Born with the sword, that has no name unless
It's pulled out of the stone, you are just like me
Waiting for someone to gather strength
Opportunity in the air, and you're still breathing
I suppose you see some hope and responsibility
I'd tell you to go towards your destiny unbound
Have your friends on the sides and destined to divide
Attenuating isn't it that you look for complex desires
Freeing the slaves looking for slavery, telling they don't want to work
But, this isn't where it ends, as much I wail
I cry silently while I'm burning in contempt and condigned pyres
Press and release, tease me only if you can
It's not easy if you try it on compensating terms
Prepossessing situations, do you want an opinion or my patience
Since it's you I should be close to and naming by each look
As I glance across the party, I'm sure to find someone willing to give up their privacy
Namesake, not maybe, you can't change me if I'm looking for a veritable wine for a truthful excuse
Sorry for my behavior, it's almost like my songs are growing old
We can try to bring the youth in the air again, it is better flowing in the righteous hands
Unless you're flailing like a blossoming bud unable to keep track of time past
There are better ways to spend Heaven's time on Earth
That's why I'd rather arrive somewhere than be stuck in the flames
If the fire needs you, I'll just feed you the wire
Jul 2019 · 106
Incendiary
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
I can keep remembering the memories
That should be trapped inside, in cupboards
That keep more welcoming things like custard powder and baking soda
It's all written on the grocery list of week's work
My workingman's dead
You do not have one of the things, or feelings
On the list of items meant for non-believers who hang like non-living things
Having their own non-living features and redeeming ways, still recuperating
Have we lost our ways, or I keep asking myself have I forgotten anything
If I can't title my desires and compartmentalize them, in closets meant for clothes
These are what I wear, revealing some cracks in the deep-ends
Broken places and war, you're stuck just like the rest of the thespians who seek purpose
Is it just an act, or am I looking at the story unfolding?
Jul 2019 · 48
Tame Anxiety
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Jump from heights, written in books
Dropout of colleges, that burn 'em
Or case in study, carelessly read your oeuvre of imminent desires
***** to shine if you'll be fine, and this thin line
Is where I forget to draw a chalk mark
The feeling is like nails on the chalkboard
I have no grasp on reality, let's not be happy for one day
Cusp of time, I can relate
We are both standing on the edge of nothingness, unable to identify with ourselves
Sounds familiar doesn't it if you pray in places
Jul 2019 · 102
I Should Tell You Now
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
I suppose I should tell you
That I was normal once, now just an analogous amalgam
Saving pennies for the shelter, though I don't know
The storm is just childish rhetoric, my family's gone
Even in the cosmic feeling of perfection in my teenage days
Without food and shelter, tuning my cars and mechanizing machinery
For underwriters and slaves alike, likewise temporary jobs
Pay for the entertaining pictures on the star-lit screen and the cinematic sun strip
I am far from home, bet you expected to come back to the vapid commitments
Falsities plaguing my clear mind, infected by the disease of what's
In the name and the mindful soulful vibes, that spirit away like nameless ghosts
On a named street, with some attachments and arduous freedom taking my bags along
Like some chaperone on famous stars on the celestial sky, looking down on us
New desires keep coming with full suitcases, making my journey harder
The undulating streetlights flicker like my fate and belief in people
I want to say the nicest things to you if I could just fly
And catch on those subtleties that hover in amorous air
Cruising with the analogous amalgam is a just a beggar's dream, called niggardly
They are the preservative ideals of a society run by blacksmiths and wordsmiths
All cemented in stone like covenants and commandments, born of the time being ashore on these dreams of freedom
Knowledge is a weakness, ignorance is a brave ideal
Find your peace?
Make love, not war; love is closest to being free and peacefully easy
The feeling is easy if you can curb the warfare without contention
Or a bone resembling the argument of the flight of the centurions
The cents that are thrown like notes in the hat, make up for your sins you topical poets
Treble, bass, and middle; you are the whole music, a part of the sound of this vast splendor
Cosmically blowing up, I can't explain myself
If I imploded, I'd stay at home unbeknownst of the whole vessel
Pretending I was ready to sink with the ship, sappy
Revering all my work in a glimpse of eternity, happy
The pursuit of happiness, where do you roam on moving streets that move me to tears
~Analogous Amalgam
Jul 2019 · 129
Untouchable Gun
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Lady Blue went with the thin air
So brushing up the ever-shining sun
The time that waits on my tombstone
The tropical sands that circle like the wind that
Except for the cash and flying paper planes, in the tending to the temporary
Trepidatious as ever the scared feeling is gone
If I make it, its cuts are too deep
I'm feeding closing to the creek, the line of the fishes in the ocean
The horizon of the rendition of hopeless liars
Looking like an enlightening bunch when they aren't welcoming
Libels and labels, I can take liberally
The labels stick to me like the lies you purposefully speak of
Often, these are recesses of the deceased that creep up
Like the tresses of destiny with hints of untouchable fate, and lady luck
The empty sky gladly offered my confusion and tenebrous crime
The crime was like a punished poor witness, unable to speak
If it had a voice, it would take me back to childhood desires
Each time, I was scared of violence and broken fingers
Holding hands and clutching my shoulders, like the wind in the sacred shore that flows
If you and your life, in the indignation of loss, that's why crime
Has no voice, and punishment is just a forced rhetoric
Lady Blue like the mirages and imminent condors that pass across the stained windows
Like inspiring weather and underwhelming rain, I miss my childhood
If I had gone out to play instead of smoking bleeding cigarettes and reading lifestyle magazines
Jul 2019 · 71
Freedom To Love
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
He and I were talking
We were listeners
For a short time, paralyzed by fear
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Flowing across the sunshine
The sunlit stip, the sunset step
My journey followed by wildflowers, paper towels
And hanging faces like wallflowers, looking at me perceptively
Indeed and the ingrates that degraded this community without
Peace in a handful of eternity
Plastic love with the support of strangers taking out the taste of achievement
Plastics and plasticine ***** that form pottery of the jaded times
Like a Xing Empire in it's prime, and the treason of the crouching tiger
Molding into transience like a hidden dragon
Gold touches the surface of the patina so supplementary
Oldness touches the simplicity of advice, like vice and virtue without happiness
Plastic love is like the abode of a plastic bag flying free in the air
Jul 2019 · 60
Pitch Perfect
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
I can take the bullets and the bombs
But, I can't recommend bombshells
Leaving like slugs
Jul 2019 · 71
Black Exploit
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Speeches of the forgiven
How can you blame a man for corruption
And being afflicted by greed
Afrodisia and perdition hasn't changed
Deep in the stick like that, and stepped out the crack
Dropping your roads and your norms and stands
Jul 2019 · 157
I'm Not A Crook
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Inherent madness, or good or evil
Everyone is questioning my devilish innocence
Airbrushed the evidence, vanishes with the vain goodness
Proud of a crime I'm an asylum to broken bad
Crime Punishment tends to the children of terrorist acts to schoolkids
Revolutions a part of the agenda of educated sordid seditions
The propagandist flag yells "Act", taking it for what it's worth
Act before the protest, the run after the morning, I have left my clock on stop
I looking for an eternal reflection in a tomorrow I'll never see
Jungle-run and humming puns, hammering drunkards with reruns
I'm rivetting with the genesis and my enunciated elegies with the dour dry
Or for someone in dearth need and the falsities and fallacies
Peacefully and four friable fiends, that crumbled with the atomic bomb
So, why are selling streets in the dead-end dreads
The locks of a speakeasy, the talking eyes, the messages beeps intermittently, telling me to sell the bomb
In the jungle rage of the rhyming of the ****** bombs, that I find peace and fantasy with truth and profanity
Peach diesel kick out from underneath, **** my destiny and fears
Burn up with the gas, with the members of the fraternities of the derelicts with freewill crooks
Gravitating towards the era of laughter and mirthful madness
Burning money and the diesel at the same combustible pace
What's oil without fish food?
Water surfacing across the painted picture
Of the absence of truth
Inflammable, both of these items of greed in a box of full of things
The thespian greed in the sequestered dream, quoted by the *******
Quantifying these Swedish dreamers and sycophants and circadian  hillbillies
Jul 2019 · 160
Summer Madness
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
I breathe in the air
The air is bloodstained
The breathing solid favors from the dope dealers
The air is smoked up in a handful of dreams of psychedelic revelry
Hence, velleity towards these things attentively captures my mind in blossoming flower
Unable to quote as a substitute for wit, astute isn't it if we could talk through ordeals and ideals
Hidden and stricken out, dreaming for better tides and times
Waiting for the man, with bated breath and literate mind
The mindful soulful vibes that I can accept for the fooling summer madness
Jul 2019 · 364
Protean Flask
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Hey! Play it really low
War in control, when we were young
And now we are old, the chrome guns
Are the same as the charming wine of the nuns
The metaphysics of the majestic soul
Is just an entitlement, it's strong in this one
She says "I deserve this." unable to hide her inadequacies
And reservations about presidential fools, like the rogue agents
Like me and fela grupi, till the clocks run out
The guns come out in the Brixton Sun
Time for gun control, like the paper planes
That fly like the paper dreams
The taste of thin rhymes that you had your singles on
Singularity, I interest your plural discretionary warning
I have been given many caveats by the ladies at the Taco Bell
The eatery still welcomes the immigrants, like the American Government
I felt better about changing my mind, regarding the tall sights
And the people digging ditches and splitting the bleeding cigarettes and marijuana bills
Jul 2019 · 141
Ahimsa Sutra
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
The time's tops
Olden are we
With talk of ahimsa and dreams
Jul 2019 · 174
Binding Truss
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
**** and Tracy took a place
On The Hamptons, calling it home
By turns, monikers on kosher
The champagne placed around the thermometer
Keeping time with the temperate climate
I might come back to the ****** and drinks
The sundry of solutions to *** addiction and psychedelics
The *** seemed surreal when the *** was procreating half the time
Protection would have seemed better if I didn't touch strangers and lick lighters for the feudal lords
The candle's wet, make the night and the mind's made
The secular drive and ****** energy and transmutation is not plausible
With the conclusive evidence of lotharios and trollops
Puerile is really childish nature of a churlish metaphysic in the psychotic world
So get into the psyche, if you want a reprieve from tautologies impression
Jul 2019 · 115
Suicide Solution
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Electric relaxation on my mind
The gurney that lights up the cigarette
Trees and Cassavetes, that reminded me of cinema verite
The truth appears to be spoken in truer words
Truer words haven't been spoken, for licking lips and prying grace look over shoulders
In the lying order of the jumbled papers marking Presidents for representation
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Perturbed by the thought
What's a worry
If you do not have prior inhibitions
The posterior argument, is you do not stop
But, reconsider the consequences of your callous doubt
Crowded around protesting crowds, bombs ticking silently in bags of clouds
Cherishing and chinchillas running like limericks
That I can't tink like trinkets
Glasses that should be served and primrose deepens in color
Of rose wine and red blood, the presiding appeal of reds, as long it blushes into better hues
I keep digging, to not come out
That's how I judge until I touch the rocky bottom
Nudge in the rock bottom with my buttressing tools and clinical trials
Like racial profiling of the blue-blooded
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
The semaphoring of the secrecy, and the revolutionizing
Concept of secrecy and its state of mind
The mercy of the individuals, and analogous amalgam
The terse temerity of mindful me and the minefield of landmines
Stevie's blind, the organs plays through lyrical bombs
Sir Duke shone his light on the prodigal son, the goodness in the train of thought
Could be graded A, but, I'd give a plus anime for your animated expression and it was a gas
For the poor submission of the poetic device and honest heart with which you wrote your ravenous hunger in words of Arthur Milner
"Get out of my chair!"
There are no words only stomach grumbles, and the chair texts
I foolishly crave for spring lust, the autumn leaves are up next
They're raked like the Four Seasons of the Earth, like the raw dog of Iggy Pop
You can top-it up with cherry please, on top
Like the ice-cream and vanilla, and the talk of deriding each other
Popping this bubble would be make-believe like a shortcake
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
The tramps of the old England
The diamonds of Sierra Leone, the jungles lost in em
The tremble of the thimble of wattles, in this barren desert
Ottoman Empire quit Cold Turkey, the racks told me I could slice in
The majesty's service looked like it would rise with the sun
Bleeding like London sky, the rain always came
Too bad, the rain never Brexits, intending to leave, but, now the Sun will never come out
Jul 2019 · 170
Funky Five-Footer
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
What's a bird that doesn't have boots
Looks like a flamingo that flocks
And keeps it's feet up
What's a clock that doesn't tick
That radio can't relate too
That's we look for Radio Free Europe and daylight savings
What's the paper without a President
Counting days when he leaves, ticking time bombs
The bombs' without a clock
Hey Bob meet Charlie
Meet Tango and cash in your walkie-talkies
Cute meet between people who think, it takes two to tango
What's an avian bird that doesn't congregate
A gourmet meal
What's an eagle without the snake's shadow
A prey to the Sun and Moon, the nocturnal death
The snake sleeps with his head in the bagging
The sagging berry that doesn't taste sweet
What's a bird without wings
Is the imagination of the intelligent intellectuals
Looking for talent among ambitious, some have mirages of migration
What's the boot without the footer
A shorter foot, with a missing boot of homeless beggar
What's a barber without a cut
A devil's haircut for the witty purging fearful man
In loathful Vegas lost in its insipid disease
Trees and the malls, the Palio that looks the same as the Patio
Sounds like Caesar's Palace in a word salad
What's rubber with a tip
Some pocket full of things
A change of style, and wallet of wads of cash
Paying for the dinner and the present commitments with the lady in the bleeding ceiling
What about the lights, the gumboots shine in these muddy fishnets
Jul 2019 · 102
Subliminal Manila
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
The order is release
And I can't change my release form
I hope that changes my opinion about American Justice
The dream stays like an addressed flag, worn by a leprechaun
Cherishing the four-leaf clover and washed up Panama Canal
Cape Canaveral thanks for the rockets, the fallen angels
Jul 2019 · 565
Breathe Of Bees
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Creativity and ambition is real
And the feeling of risk and intelligence
Are asking for damnation please, placidly
Birds among many things that chirp around your soul that wakes up the dead
Cheering up the party with the talk of apartheid, black and white
Competition is the last word, and talk of lost causes and intellectuality
Est mir leid
I'm up in my knees with Bukowski, they call me old-school Burroughs, the Kerouac rings in the philosophical Barry Manilow
Barry Levinson, please don't make my death bed, you're plot points make sense ambivalently too in case I touch upon Bacchus
The dichotomy of the bridling ***, I suppose you switched with the surface of the country full of dunes and locusts
The swamp of the divorcee storm saves it for the orgie and the promiscuous dollar ride and melee
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
You can five-five out of the ten dollars
Split my face into a shared love
On a candle-lit dinner, talking about change
The fertile and warmer stratus of the fabric of time and traces
Dance and bounce up on the wrong end of the shore of the sunnier Big Sur
The timeless freedom of the doubt, you're not a Boy Scout
You're out of excuses, you've run out of petulance
Tell me more, that your gander doesn't accept your biscuits
Dog treats, too bad karma's a *****
The boy scouts don't take some witty transient soul
Gender dysphoria, where in the world, I'll show you fear in a handful of tuilles and caramel dust
Smoldering a smitten cigarette, and the reciprocating love of the numinous
Bumblebee flying of the wrong note, in the symphony
If you can play it slow, you can flay it fast, indeed
Tres, doux, un and the numbers are wrong
3121 are the redacted numbers of the phone that I broke, the writer knows where the rubber's at
You know the time, fief
The trembling fear is a pied piper dream, I'm breaking my nuts
On a growing pair of hopes, that shower me with colorful affection
Afflicted by the greed, and lithe people are my illumination
They have Swede dreams and Swiss sweets
German grobschnit and psychedelic for the arts, centered around cherry pop
Coke's a drug if you snort it with the straw until you get the ice out
Tentative and attenuating, alarm me by the evoking stoner's death
Daydream and dredges of some sinister sarcasm wake you up out of being a criminal dude
Jul 2019 · 143
Trapped By Meandering Waves
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Strength is the weakness
When sadness has the predicament of being
Comeliness
Microbes and cultured, like the brushing aside the business
The crimes and punishment, you can't save up for the love and the crass capital beating
Broken legs, break the prison humor, the convict's jungle rapping, touching the wrong towels
Breaking open skulls on the system of the broken street
Down on the hip stirring procreating street, with ******* tad adolescent folks
Never upon the crimson red, and thespian action
The resonant redacted symbol that tells you for the freedom of the lost symbols
Well, they're acting like the beats and bustards that break their necks at the shot of the bullish broken gun
Badland and Bambi could have been gladder if she were roadkill
Too bad we would be regretful and faithful
Marquis Sade and breaking the buzzing rhyme with the talk of divine tragedy
We love you pi, your irrational thinking
Got me dividing your attention, I might be grading if I start with English
Starting, the trombone blew out, the instrument was the one I was through
If I found the right hole, I'd press it better
If the fingers were wrapped and tapered, the beveled ceiling
And the pleasant mirror talks to me in my diggity
On the hollering heron on the halcyon buggying out on the funky freelance
Scarring the storms across the fire, break my bones
Serve my food to the military, break my pride
Take my mind, sell it up for tomorrow vegetables and today's debts
The droughts seem fresh in the rotten flesh, not sure if it's dehydrated
I'm blemished and pleased with my dealings, competing for the most damage
Do you wanna put a plate of food, for my last meal as a famed convict
Too bad isn't your turn to obviate all the mistakes I made in making the line before your mum
Serve it up in the Folsom prison, with the playing cons cool for their socks
Strikes and socialist assemblies turning out revolutions, like pamphlets for lost and found
We're still for freedom, I ran into the wrong neighborhood
Maybe, I followed the river where it flowed, trenchant isn't that followed a mind map
You can't move into the apartment, what kind of crap is that
Trapping me and pleasing me, and teasing me sensibly
I hope I denunciate another person on the slippery foam of frat parties
Festering droughts, freedom aborting the fedora
Hate crimes are returning the favor, in the worst possible
Tedious angst seems rather adult-like if you grow up in wrong shoes
Of your boot polishing forefather, I bet grew up in a better neighborhood
I somnambulantly place, that you want someone to talk
I talk my way out of dreams and look at faceless strife
I can't place the right word, the hurt's real honey
Humming bird like a bully underwhelmed by his tricks and traction
On the students of the same school called life
Jul 2019 · 292
Spontaneity Sell Out
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
The aggressors can't be named if the service is forever
The version of your story is just lip-servicing
Equating the flexing flight of the mind, reeling in your doubts
The ebony and ivory of the piano man speakers, ringing the terse team of bandleaders in the sociable house
Gustave Flaubert lemme leave like the wind, inert in the auberge
Submerged condo, semaphoring in this serious veritable wine
The train of the trident offal rises to the shore, the smoldering
The effect of the fact of the scientific fact
The temerity of the fruitcake turned out to be an eggbox
Short of the 3 rotten eggs, I broke the rest of my cracks in the yonder China's
China's is churning out the Russian socialist revolution
Keeping all your eggs in another basket for you, trade unionizing
Unionizing, the humble job of the little free and the trees and the dated deeds
I'm sure your history correct, and the ***** statues look nice to your buildings
Monumental tragedy, the system of the ideological home of the Lord
The tocsin of a couple of sins, in the alarm-clock dream
The nun summed up my sins in one
Sell out of the sucre of the embarrassing crowd of faux pas behavior
The demeanor of the surreptitious invaders, guilt-ridden
The trill and striding ruse, that can criminally break principles
The women represent the principle of hating God
Men represent revelry in his love
An earring of six figures puts them in the same dour story
Let's not get sour about the salty crisps, scouse accent out of the south
Jul 2019 · 120
Depravity And Proclivity
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Back in the day, when I was gettin' creative
Before the swirling circles, and the curly sands of Poseidon
Using and the London, and the murky hills of the bumbling
They ne'er dissolve, an acquittal is for the cooking
Simple daddy don't you know the simpler cycle
The quest for booking and the truckload of fat foam
The Fromage and the homage to the dean and the youth
To the levered the Cali massacre, and bullish cars, the greyhound bus takes you
From the divorce court to the trial, shake moneymakers now
Take the Levee till it's dry and the champagne supernova for granted
The dressing of the coquettish dream of Jane Austen, in her sense and sensibility
Jul 2019 · 194
Destiny Awakening
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Finding lost lamps in the endless river
Finding lost paths in the endless sea of shiny slivers
Superimposed by cherry blossoms looking to get red, falling like the samurai wind
A metaphorical sword in the word of the kicking and rolling with the deracinated punches
Leers and steers, queers and the prayers comin' in the firm hands and the strutting souls that just can't make it through
Trembling and positive rhapsody, heartbeat flows through these terrible feelings with ease and rough edges
That gives me some relief in the ruins of a time past and has gone ne'er to wait on the cusp of time
The temerity of the weak people gets on the nerves of the patient who wait to test time
Loving you is like a trap, and the journey ends up in the faintest memory
These are things that make the spring lust, undermining everything that I remember

The sunset line can be mistaken for this road of hopeful faith
And opportunity comes with it, and some lost souls find their destiny awakening
Impression and departure, it's just case of arriving somewhere but here in the future of adversity
Fickle lady luck you've made my life, a metaphorical world
Just for a metaphysical girl, in case I just forget
How funny it is when life is times in perspective
Adding a soundtrack too can make it or break it
etudes, classical violins and broken dreams in this town of blue notes and thick smoke and purple groove
Haze doesn't work as a substitute for connective interfaces
Freedom to bucolic cygnets too truant to dream desire and demean
Swimming in the pool with the same ducks and ugly as cracked places
Traces of you, smoldering smitten semaphoring thoughts of someone close to you

Killjoy, repeat joy, you don't say; tell me more about your bebop and hip pop
Hip hop doesn't stop, until the groove is gone and the night as right
I guess I'm to blame for that rap music
Trepidatious isn't it being surreptitious, sounds silence in the dancing dark
Your mountain dog helps you awake in mended ways of a villainous version of systems and resuscitated governments
Of hootenanny, heralding the vernacular and jokes and veritable wine of aged humor, the dogs of the military take it all
Sharing it with the slightly avuncular makes it singularly appealing

Like a rat crossing the vegetations to look for slavery
Forging the plots of the bubonic pathos of plagued souls
Logical isn't how the rebirth died with a topical topsy-turvy thing called metaphors and teenage angst
Tranches and branches, stigmatize these sprigs of hovering forest of the streams of streaming rivers through the Conrad lands of radiance and splendor
Reminding of madness, barren words of the baroness, iridescent memory
Telling us only time could wait for us, and tell us to fly above all these vermins and scar tissues
Sermonize and call the heaven-sent, and ask for destiny awakening, in the crimson red, celestial bodies that resemble celadon
Love is true, till is you, that flows through the river in you
I could tell you till my face is a different hue, I dream of a better time in this place called reality
Reminding myself everything is in reverse, and distant memory is just the closest feeling I recount when each iambic meter states the verses of this timeless life  
Remember from the blues and the acropolis and metropolitan incriminating, all these people going across like fleeting figures of the literary imagination
I could care less, and leave this city too, this is a thought I keep
If I could run away from this destiny too if I wasn't sleeping at the new kid's place in this town, drinking on the borrowed time of strangers
Trenchant, turpitude and tocsin is the truth when it comes to freely loading all your murderous cases of reprise and flickering lamps
True is just me that thinks it's relevant to this germane generation following the natural order, calling it the new substance
Simply railing through this blazing road, I'm on fire
Intermission and comes transience
This hip hop is old and so is the talk of condolences, shot rappers for gold and fake names
Riches from rags, to make homes out of the outbound trembling time that scares common time
And talk of immediate memory, and thespian and tulips blossom similarly
Putting on an act, like the midnight pretenders bending midnight spoons
Surmise and I suppose to be yours if I could get over these brighter stars of the darkness
Make your magnum opus with the correction and subjective precision, that you would show an etherized patient
Terse and cursory, you're spontaneity only syncopates with the silence
The redaction of statements would be criminal and I would rather like your writing on some stolen notebook
Grasping and gaping Centauri, releasing gases like the solar chrome horses
Inane and intermittent, aren't these sunshine beams, God wouldn't want me to be a sagacious beam
In the unforgiven law of the supposed religious belief and the dream weavers, make of the same sky we share
They might mistake the distance of the Sun, for God's light shining on cues
So, says the man who sold the world, to the cumulus accord that governs the capricious desert
Surpassing this law takes some law and serfs, breakfast is served by the smurf-head
The sun shines on us all, especially those who have mouths to feed
And don't understand boulders, unsteady tears, and cologne
They revel in the thought of seeing sunshine on their weary shoulders the coalition of the hollow men
Country roads, hitchhiking, I'm lost on road called sunset free street, the straws burning
People ask me, why I never appear on this trailblazing cars and find a hilarious lintel saying "This way for Love."
Suppose, I should tell them that I'm famously private and I don't take rides from strangers and don't lend hands to those without money
Love talkin' about that sometime, honey
Sometimes is never and some semblance of the past that was fiduciary
Smug and shy, I'm not sure that guy brings me some childish dreams and inspired, stirring, and compelling stories
Jul 2019 · 159
The Totalitarian Conclusion
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
A great many hearts died
When you perfected hate
Boy
Jul 2019 · 76
Horror
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
I smile with the knife under the shroud
Colors of red remind us of when lust was addicted to novelty
I should have never loved instead
"Lust is addicted to novelty."-Geoffrey Chaucer
Jul 2019 · 484
Subliminal Mania (13)
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Write some bad lines
Write my name in the stories
Write my vote among naysayers, make me feel represented

Pass through the pastimes, repose remember me
Post that letter to the postmaster, postman rings twice
Once for the future, to remind sleep comes in dinner dreams

Outpost claim lives by the millions, cramp up the camps
Concur with the general public, listen to the style of ghosts
Primrose reaper cut my rose another bush, with the cusp of cleavage

Do the drapes match the curtains, ignite them just the same
Diverging into the coursing path, that I should pace
I take hold of one and walk the other, like teaching and learning
The greatest scholars are not usually the wisest people.
Jul 2019 · 351
Abyss Of Future Town
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Psychic glockenspiels come from western civilization to steely dilation
The sun may rise and the Swede's dreams looking for hindsight and elation
A cinema mon amour, the compensation spreads like their legs on ovulation, it's Ninotchka's dilemma with fornication
Firstborn of the soft-core **** of the thorny copulating, and yonder lying in waiting till you're a ne'er zaftig
First-form soothsayers, and strides of samba spies salivating with charm, you're a tinsel town in the maelstrom
Lick your lips, and lickety-split, you're in the instigation of salacious mating
Of a **** of minor, and crime of a major elemental nature, you'll get sentencing from the abyss of vultures
Jul 2019 · 372
The Knock-Out Model
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Her fighting fear and rumbling rage youthfully flickers
She doesn't know, how the chess pieces lie parallel to the cars
Kindred heart, I do keep some appointed time with myself to learn
Passing the queen in numbers, prudently teaching me about vitriolic teaching

Loathing is strong on this avuncular admirer
A student of knowledge that should've recused her lying papers
Caressing herself in the most apologetic ways and climactic jealousy
I couldn't help forgive her for foraging a game without an aphrodisiac

The thought of mollycoddling makes my charm turn into an effeminate curriculum
You crashed class and charmed your way into our crash course in astronomy
Incendiary was the love at first sight, that story's burnt to putrid parchment now
Drapes, verdant, croquet in the halls of the star-crossed sensual words
"Push it in, slowly."~drew blanks
Jul 2019 · 89
Freewill (Guilt & Regret)
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
I dream of wandering
Grab me by the mind
Dream of my body and imprint my soul
Apart from the lingering flickering light
Of the moonlit sonatas and sunny winters, among chartreuse ruins
Pale as the moonlight and deafening thunder-like overtures of Beethoven's oeuvre
I dearly love your indecision about the disease and minor achievements
Minor and major Fortuna, and capricious discombobulating spirits of the wild, that I can affix
My mind on the twinkling stars and flickering lights
A thousand lives later, I might remember looking down on yonder
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
The eye in the sky
Hears all your jokes
Except when you sigh
Jul 2019 · 58
Rainy Time Walks
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
April is the dullest month, in the crowded soil
And the frowning sky, emptiness resides
In May, June, and July; as rainy time walks by
Jul 2019 · 90
Commission
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
I landed my first writing job at 16
Making it through school and dishing out omissions
Fishing out errors, the sweet age was just a number
Jul 2019 · 179
A Girl Named Kyu
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
In her river full of cerulean celadon, jaded and glideth by its will
Transient and scenic, it's unyielding frame is prone
To breaking hearts that are still, and memory that stills
Jul 2019 · 105
Crash & Roadkill
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
My restful ease, and my mellow dream
Among a class of neighborhood, looking for a birthed ideal
I rested my case, with my pack of suitcases, on the road of devilish deeds
In this land of eternity
My case carried sandalwood, creme brulee, celadon, chartreuse, cognac, a copy of today's newspaper
A phone rested in a knapsack, among other erroneously kept articles, a duet for cello and violin, icicle, a firebird, a lighter case, and post-it mentioning your number
These are my creative and crests of cemented ceramic carved poetry, in a carved out moon for the cruising werewolf driver
My face hung from the wall, just like the thought of a perfect day
Welcoming your good-intentions and charmin', a winding road disarming cars on this road to the universe
Jul 2019 · 398
Gelid Icicles Of Dover
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Hail the laborers at the mill, hail the jokers with witless tastes
I ain't going to work on any ordinary farm, of the ordinance and well-ordained
They sabotaged lifts and all walked but nothing was gained
They huffed and puffed and blew themselves to absurdity
They planned and plotted only to see boredom engulf the crowd
Ne'er to do the foot-slog, ours is to laugh at the Wigan pier
What is idle rest, I laid my hay long ago and made my peace
With the catatonic curses, and scatological invective

If the mill laborers know what I know
They will see wasters working hard to make more waste
For theirs is to work and fret, berate each other and work
From birth till death to ghosts already remembered
Above the antique mantel
An educated mind would entertain the thought of numinous reminiscing
An excellent habit, to focus at the elephant that cumbered the room
The dearth feeling that was filled with scarcity, memoirs lay strewn

Like the law and edicts, that flustered the mind
Clinton and his economics liberalized my mind, but, piqued the market
I read these in papers of the age of dying punk, and gregarious bylines
Witty writers pen their names in bold, on pen and paper meant for the literate
A kind spirit lies in the artist within
Reminders and unneutered plants are willfully disregarded, with the milk untouched
Spiritualism is stolen from my doorstep, sold to ragamuffins and rapscallions

Exchanged for the dream of more reading, with an understanding of the antiquated climate
Dostoyevsky, a small-time Russian who stole the hearts of many, living by his word
Told us of crime and punishment, with a large intelligence and deep heart
The darker the night brighter the stars
In the empty sky, I offered my confusion
Failure is not our punishment for laziness, its other people’s success
It’s our hunger that floats on the surface of other’s hatred, more like oil and water
Russia was a bed of gelid ice, unable to tell the approximated difference
I make approximated decisions with calculated assumptions, and all my dreams turn to ashes
Years past, and this knowledge brought me peace in my last try at catching the sky
Catching falling stars, and preserving nature
Some poets of the fall, prefer the winds of change instead of sprig icicles of spring lust
If the mill laborers know what I know
About celestial being as known in a jestful pun
These clowns of the roving ferals
Casting lore of dubious yarns
And lugubrious lacing of yawns intertwined by laziness
Thinking imbecility resides in all as they reside in it
The implicit assumptions of wishful vacuous to fester mind
If the opaque laborers know what I know
Their aims redundant as always eggs would wear translucent faces
and pointless endeavors will carry owned banners, second as farce
The over thirty years jokers still blinded to the reverse
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
People don't play with knives, they toy around the possibilities of ******
Toys of the occult and ocular visionary, a legionary in the reprise
My soul has lost its appetite, but, has a pang of hunger in someone's demise
"To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life."
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