Langurously and dangerously inundated
These lines refrain from the veracity
Of the veritable mendaciousness of mending ways
The lugubrious feeling that causes lack of preemptive reason
May cause reprieve for our suffused mistakes
In time these will be lambasted, like barren lands
Famished by the deprivation of azure
These mortal beings want to condoned, not reassured
But, their actions are condigned by active enforcement
Of the very halcyon sights and commanding selpulchre
Tendencies of this predilection can cause the veritas of arboreal
Forests that turn into tiagus
Form the basis of the very animus among the conquered and divided by malice
Maladroit and mawkish, we are slowed down by our emotions
That's when pathos turns to emotional appeal
Lacking all integrity of dignified subversive statements that need studying
Sequacious individuals often disregard the employing of arduous words
While believing in abstrusities that should count as absurdities
Within these are caitiffs looking to follow the williwaw
When the crowd gets along in fiery cohorts and ardent cavorting
Are we simply gruntled?
Or are we turning into ice?

Look at what the cat dragged
In with it was bad luck
And some ragged claims to fortune
It's a lot like a feeling of dutch courage
And fallacious achievement which has defined the age
Of the enlightened
Makes the darkness slightly surreal
Adumbrating all of that darned cat's trophies
I guess I'm a lot like that cat
Who is smart and in revelry
I'm glad I'm superstitious
In this interstitial space where black cats
Cross the asteroid belt
And the umbra of some galaxy
Causes panic in us
Like bad luck, we believe in
Scion of some badland exists in the far off celestial body
Which might disintegrate us
In surmise, we are inured by the cosmic ballad
But, things have changed
But, karma when will you change my mind
I often wonder and my sepulchral thought dissipates
But, my faith remains
My faith like a watered plant
In this vast existential philosophy of what is sustaining us
Or can I live without Earth, wind, and fire
Maybe, I might die in the elemental phase of contingency
Where my ruminations have no effect on the vast causation
Where my contemplations are just a glimpse into the past
Like the metals that coagulate after they reach the surface
Halycon indeed, if civilizations aren't decimated by the volcanic will
To catch a falling star
Some of us are walking in the moonlight
When will we leave this Earth
Spiraling into the cosmic culmination of thoughts and reality
The dreams are a fine line between action and incantation
So, when is the night right?

I wonder why he has a smoke
I wonder why he has a beer
I wonder why he has been intoxicated, once before
When life is not innocuous at all
I wish that she took those things off my mind
And let me relieve the guilt and reprieve myself
When life is always teaching me through dilemmas
After I make all of the mistakes I learned from western cinema

In a world of people
Following inspiring stories
An orphan relies on your kindness for sustenance
This is inspiration
Led by preemptive example
In a world of people
Not for them
But, fear not
Orphans love the food you give them
But, they cannot think anymore
They only think of themselves
This is stratum of ulterior motives
In this world fluent with the language of progress and money

In a universe made for two
I light a flame to my cigarette
Each time you come in my way
And the pernicious mistake of believing that the first line
Is true
Wakes me up, every night
That's why I never think about you

Torrid fascination with the sullen
Sullen, being pejorative, is a need for the passionate
My life and my pursuits are the reason for my sullied imagination

I don't like honors
It just doesn't appeal to me
That such a surreal feeling of recognition
Is attributed to such intense hard work and innovation
I don't like honors
It puts on the pedestal of human achievement
Whereas, my work is meant for the few, who arrive at it
I don't like honors
It doesn't do me good to biased towards my own
Qualifications
That's why I love contributing
Because it gives me peace in this pensive mind searching for the end
Of the vast tunnel of possibilities, where questions are answered
And answered questions are an explicable form of logic
Contributing is a logician's ebullient dream
Because this hand is meant for forgiving and not taking
I guess that's why we have the sun set on a place too far
I guess that's why we have a fascination for the beautiful
Because it helps us understand ourselves better
And feel connected with our own art and creation
I don't like honors
It makes me feel like a destroyer of doubt
Rather than the creator of fascination and amazement
We have sullied the atomic bomb
Time for us to bring up our arms in rebarbative rebellion

I always believe in you
I just never thought
We'd get so far, so easily
All things are difficult before easy
There's a feeling that sets me free
And it tells me I'm wrong about all the niggardly people
Who deserves your love
But, sometimes we deserve this acrimony
To understand the probity of God
In this, we find our heroic nature
Sometimes, bound by sacrifices
We find things worth giving up
That's why I always believe in you
But, first I thought you were a periphrasis to my elation
To appreciate whenever you'd leave
The curating curtain silhouettes
Billows and keeps the shadows
Inside this crepuscular room meant only for quaint satisfaction
Like the smell of old books touches our senses
This room is my abode
And you are the subject of my desires
In sensible choices, I find your inspiration in my deepest dreams
Guiding me through creativity and reality, alike
Like a sun that cannot find its son, so it has a flame burning in our womb
Surrounding us in an eternal gaze meant for desolate souls like Pluto

The sequacious people
Are intellectually servile
In your loving presence
Kindness is a virtue
For the nascent soul and experienced spirit

The reason I listen
Is because of the same song
Reminding me of fragments of you

The river's flowing
It asks me when will I change my mind
When time reveals my true-self in due time

The girl who got away
Blocked her account
And left me with her memories
The girl who got away
Won't look at me now
But, will notice me in a crowdy street
The girl who got away
Probably, likes watching movies with someone else
But, watches the same movies we watched all over again
The girl who got away
Probably, got a lot better in terms of physicality
But, her heart is a bunch of bandages wrapped with each other
The girl who got away
Loves reading books
But, cannot bear to stop imagining life without reality
I just keep finding her in that library called love
The girl that got away
Met me for the last time
Leaving an everlasting memory which said, "I've moved on."
I finally understood what it meant after I loved someone else
And finally, when I gave back the books, I took from her on rent
She appeared to have become a cautionary tale
Quite quaint isn't it?
Unless I have moved on with dignity
And gratitude on display
Here's my book in a time capsuled by nature
Titled "Gratitude"
For a lover's fortitude
Each fortnight, this love story brings me strength for eternity
For swingin' lovers looking for respect

Got shot down in the parking lot
Working out all the details for my car
Walking out of the town for a boy or a girl
The night lady asks me to stop hinging on what doesn't matter
The 9 pm suicidal feelings
Got my blood yearning
Got my blood turning
Maybe, if you took some time to wait for the pill to settle
Utilizing the thin line between plea and argument
I might be in your bed stopping all the razor-sharp drama
Causing all the popping of the joints in the waxen girl
Who walks through the prostitution rings with her earrings
Crying through her mascara makeup with her whole soul
The 9 pm suicidal feelings
Got my blood yearning
Someone saved my life without warning
I told her to keep her degenerate hands off me
In a fit of rage, I stabbed her in her waxen skin
Realizing real death comes by chance and not suicide

The reprisals of your life
Cuts like the role of a comedian
In this sad tale of redemption and humor
Where we may be clowns to God, but, positive to each other
Someday, I hope we live up to this standard

The love you give is indeed bright
The sun thou est speak tonight
Cusps of the moon had a velleity towards illumination
Saying, c'est la vie, that's life
Of the boughs of beauty simply unbroken
By words of another world unspoken
The light of a thousand years
Brighten my sunshine morning that evokes the dawn
The darndest thing I remember is the moonlight
Of a thousand silver foxes approaching
In this folklore, we call eternal love

...The universe breathes in the dark

The bird flying on wings of adolescent imagination
Never stops imagining an escape
However, unforgiving landscapes make an example of adulthood
That's why I am the unforgiven
But, I still rise, stoically
From the ashes, devoid of ephemeral memory
Born to end the cycle of rebirth, once again

The redness of the sky
Is like the child in you
That's where I am
I hope you come searching
When I feed off your moonlight
I am the stars twinkling in this foreign land
To be seen by the naked eye
Used to the eternal breeze of vacuum
I live in your shadow and I've embraced it
By learning to light the candle without any oxygen
Like a candle in space that cannot feel the wind
I learn to course this vast river of inherent darkness without color
With my head in the empty sky, untouched by penultimate space

What would you do have a friend understand you?
Would you give up your imperfections
To have the perfect friendship?
What would you do if you were all alone?
Would you give up your solitude
For a feeling of being part of someone's problems?
What would you do if lost your true love?
Would open your heart to someone's problems
To have the perfect friendship?
If the answer is yes to all of the conditions
Then you are conditioned for a relationship
You are ready to love someone like your own
Take their drawbacks and turn them into your's
You are ready to take someone's flaws
And turn the hours into minutes
Just because that person makes you feel alive
She may even take you to the best place on Earth
That you may have always known, but, never explored
If you are willing to leave the idea of love
And love the idea of friendship
Then, my friend, you are ready for a relationship
If you are in love with the person in their most hateful
Then, it may be time to call it quits
But, telling yourself, trying is for losers
Is why winners quit, and quitters never win

I have used up my time
And the passions for doing better for society
Fulfilled my life with purpose meant for a select few
Few only understand my ambition
The placid rime of the literary movement
Makes me realize, time being an object
Of innocence imbibed in my veritas
In my wine, I find the truth in crime
Buttressing every feeling, within its intoxication
I find peace in my revelry
My merry men that share my head full of truth
Within these feelings, I find peace with my white lies
As my life gets darker because of foolish honesty
I sip my red wine with amnesty
The feeling of righteousness washes over me like a salty ocean
Immersed by beauty, I do stay afloat
But, the water is gone and so are the remnants of a squire
Who made me the person I am

Love is a rhyme of its own
But, I want you to write the next line

If you could see
How well I remember you
I would stop writing lyrically

You left without telling me
About the flamingos, you were with
So, now I have to put my foot down

The winds of change
Come to travelers, dangerously defiant of denial
Although, denial comes with age

Alone again
I can't seem better
But, you won't try in vain
Alone again
Time runs quicker
But, I won't try anyway
Alone again
Have you any money
Right now?
Have you got any soul
To cash on me?

Have you very little penny
Coming off the mud
Don't know how it got its head between its tails, it's stuck
Though, like a little beggar
I am slightly afraid, I'll change
These clothes won't fit me no more
The blackness of virtue
The chain of toil and games
Came down on his two shoes
And kept his good faith
His barrister told him
That the judge was quite rude
The talk of lonely poets, I'm afraid that isn't abuse
My faith and my salvation is on my muddied shoes
At least, I will have knowledge of idol worship
But, I will clean some stranger's boots
Cleaner than my blood

The more I sleep
The more I write
Apparently, the feeling still lingers
Though, I tried so hard not to suffer
The indignation of changing war
Have you got a taste of the announcements
I guess you just heard ringing through the hall
Though, I tried not to show it
It takes my mind off all of it, to denounce things
Though, I tried not to show it
It takes my lines off another poet
Although, I might claiming all these apologies
If your answer wasn't the real deal
Throws and hurdles are the same this year
Cannonballs are flying across the seas
But, my flight is on another charted journey
In this readied prize, I find my reason rhyming with yours
That's why I write lyrics
When I should be writing songs
When you read me
You probably, remember me by your favorite song

Don't think twice
It's fine, and I'm alright
Sometimes, it's not so rough
To respond, and it's okay if you're in for a night
That I could live without for a while
It's much too strong, too see it through
Life has come to a new beginning
The stuff I'm made of and plastered on
Like a fool
It's like little locket of love
Locking me out of my own memories
You were once mine
And now know, the key to your heart
Is gone, for no one to respond
The lover's charm can open the door, once more
But, I guess it just takes your kiss, to pick up the phone

Can you pack up your suitcases
Full of possessions
And weigh in on the road of life
Can you remove inhibitions
And provoke people
By telling them changing beliefs is right
Can you evoke someone's innocence
Make them imagine
The struggle of right and wrong
Maybe, when we are children
The battered suitcases and torn clothes
Are a sign of the changing times?

Date night, pretending to hate you
Resultant relaxation brings that, innocent look
A twinkle in your eye, uncountable like the planets
The windows to your soul, soulful like the clear water
That fills our glasses, unconditionally like the love you hold
Risking it all on our feelings, that's my devotion to commitment
A song that lasts
Stays with me in my heart
Like a bird that chirps hello
It never says goodbye
Because goodbye is far too sad and sudden
A sincere thought towards your life
Is like a caged bird that sings
I keep forgetting these memories, to forgive you for your mistakes
The fire of heartache
Is like a burning desire
A song that lasts
Stays with me all the time
Stays with me in my heart
Like a bird that chirps hello
It never says goodbye
Because goodbye is flying away to a land of wetness and dried out rivers
Like tears in the rain

Cat
You'll be a lion soon
Dog
You'll meet a man
Girl
You'll keep those nine lives with you
Boy
You'll feel whole again

The warmest feelings
Come from people
Who have felt the fire deeply
Or those who have been burnt badly
By being in love truly and madly

The water is finishing
Fear and the time's wasting
And I'm awake on a lake road crossing

Loves lies in destruction
When we make love
We create love once more

Why do you think you're funny
When you're being stupid
And childishness is genius and so is a recovery of will

Day and night
I'm struggling with my time
The struggle is real

The crowd was silent
And there was no preaching
There was only murmur and prayer

Time's a northern pole
Darker than washing away
Freeing rests my spirt
Shadows are falling
And gave you the whole day
You're lying with me around
In the circus of the follicle heartbeat on a drumskin full of steel
The miracle of birthing is dead by the aborted misery of poor deeds
I guess you died in my lively dreaming dead for the dreary
Dreaming for the living for the leaden existence that's weighed down by life
Take a note from me, I can count on your saving in the dose of their droll behavior, made me vicious in reality
The lichens that come from the soil
Make the milch animals by killing
It in the faithless slaughter
Of the frown
In the pig
Of the personal power
The pondering chimp
Spinning and madly sporting all across the sun
Canning the heat
The potion of the rickety cauterized man who wasn't all that bright
Is the aluminum that makes the sound, ringing alright
Of your ringing hall
Missing school, far from your polar desert of cold looks and miserable principle
Come, I've gone found a jangled up woman in your youth
The moral desert's mirage is the soul in his soulless eyes Disappearing disappearing
The voice of the smoke rings
Telling of thoughts flowing so eloquently
And the smoldering waves
Heat my watered feet
The ocean is deep
I want that swim
Have for a long time
And I want to swim across with or without you?

No answer
I switched that switch off
Take it back
It was years ago, and we were free

You could swipe
Yourself through
The card that I keep in a pocket full of things
That I don't even know
The bebop stays with you in this innocence
The innocent time that you took the tuk to search through a bag full of flowers
Had to fall into my lap
And the vain veritable truth is that thing is the result of this cosmic flow
Can be fixed just by vulpine dawn
And the place you want to be in other than in this ****** planet
Can be fixed by those red eyes
Looking at the sun at the end of the road
On the road, this place makes your own situated feeling in your soul
And you're crying when you see the light
The redness of your eyes can be seen in the warmth of the sunlight
Personally, we are inclined to take advantage of this comfortable place
That makes us feel warm inside our probable circumstances of trouble
That's when you take in the sunset, and really realize you're at the end of the road
And you're in a place beyond the problems of your very maddening poverty of the soul
This is when you think of a better time, and nobody robs these emollient feelings
In a faraway planet, you may have these happier times though
And you're destined to see it till the end, right?

The mundane nature
Of something
That can be maintained
By the force of nature, and the pressing matters
All fall into some kind of unconscious wiser self
That, your own nature
It isn't tabooed by your ideology
By simple tautology, you can make the logical connections
Some kind of fluid motion in the large but infinite place
There's your hope in your own self
It's your indecision
That makes the entropy of the universe
The chaos that presently brings
Tomorrow is your own perception of this hope
Maybe, if you can take your time
If you tried
You could probably think that this void
Is filled by that point of view, and it gives you acknowledgement

Nothing does but, wildlife is
All around us,  the fire is through
The lyrical forests are burned in exhaustion

The nicest memories
You have are often subject to the
Worst experiences that require bringing about that transcendental belief
If you are stuck with your possessions, for example
So what, love is like it is
It is turbulent and the objects are closer than they appear
If your love seems far away, be silent when you have to prove it

A metal brother
And a Fullmetal brother figuring out who is the rock
Found a cursed philosopher's stone exploiting their weakness
When they looked at the research
The search ended at the penchant for humanness
Riddles are made by geniuses cryptic enough to code them for the curious collector

Swapping doves of their feet
And the white wings of the heat
Cannot be seen in the sunshine of a phoenix's sun

The inferno faltered at the canopy
Of the trees
Seemingly on wings of fire
And the sunlight danced
Just forget it
The trees don't fall with talk of fruit virginity
Push and shove that snake down your throat
And the things and objects and the proud professor
Puckered up and said, how would like to **** your own teacher
Sir, my lord is no preacher
Son, there's no telling who you'll be naming
In this crept, decrepit detention that was held by a forbidden book perfect for modern times and fame
All might say, a son of a preacher man is tame
But, this was just an ember waiting to die out
Losing its oxygen needed for propulsion in academic excellence
The detention was a must
A Freudian complex as a result of veritable desires
I must say, I'm not sure that ******* younger tool that kept me waiting forever
I wonder where is the fiery innocence that gets in on the drama
The places and the traces of which show some youthful respite
All fall into despair and faux pas moments with some strangers
Of the night, and that is why I prefer keeping the darker side to myself
For people who can embrace it
Preface that with the factotum who keeps watching you, in and out of the detention center.

The first occurrence of warm diplomacy
Of a presidentially concurrent ceremony of icy handshakes
Was the inauguration of Robert Frost's poetic recitation of a lukewarm reception, but, boisterous rationale
Among the black people, were some on the sidelines
And some white people were freed at last
By threat of a less-traversed path that brought them ostensible freedom
The positive outlook of a friendly face in the midst of this diverging wood
Made the travel worth the entry in my journal
So, did Robert Frost put fire to my soul
The medley of this luck is simply the fire to my icy rubber soles
That tread upon palliating poor relations and the force of nature wasn't inconsequential

The uninhibited circumstance
That quiets down your doubts
Can help you change your mind which is in an exhibit
Are you just dreaming for a future
Or a better future for yourself
Either, the individual's conscious decisions are
Reciprocated by that individual's desires
It's just some sunflower swagger
What the hell is sutra, if you can't position yourself in front of the Sun?
Existence unencumbered
Predilection is a precursor for a steadfast stride
The yellow windowpane of that house
Is just a crud-crusted window that blocks the rearview
Well, I realized what is sutra, and the trust you have in your mellifluousness
Life isn't all musical, but, there is some music to those seeking hope
In fact, they kind of hear voices
Which are kind of blue?
I wonder if the melancholy jazz is enough to soothe your supplementary soul, the acerbic and subversive

You contain these facts, in these ledgers meant for numbers
Meatier in someone else's  hands
Thence, you look for statistics in winning
But, never granted tha winning for sheer hucksters
Maybe, in some time apart
From all the door to door selling
The markets are burgeoned with the retention of your customer's interest
Too bad, it's rather noisy in this strata of sensory deprivation
Lost in the crowd, is just an excuse for unable to talk about the things that matter to the person next door
So you won't get the best price in this marketplace reality, really?