You are wasting in the recess
It's not in your mind
It's in the deity's rest that sleeps in a peace meant for others
That's why you never get ahead in life

The prose of the life that you revel in
Is the very reality that you dream about
Too bad the rest of the world doesn't agree on your alacrity
Maybe, it is better to be dishonest
About love as a serious plea
And accept that some of us looking for others rather than
More in another
Sharing is a possibility only if you are chiming in on the thoughts of the human misery

The conditions of rights of the people
Some of you like, this is on the government
Are the open signs of poverty in a country

I sweep flys of their feet
With the hand swiftly
Swatting it on repeat

If I died in the fiery explosion
Of some friend and the fire never burned
out
I would lit in his shadow
Engulfed by the encumbered thoughts
The preference for silence comes from this implosion

Ironically, every guy I go out with
Represents him
Unfortunately, poetry doesn't flow in that irony

The proper introduction would be friendship
If you take steps towards a life
Then it turns into love
However, heartbreak isn't that uncommon
Neither is a friendship that proper
The wife you left in the praying hall
Semblance there is some reminiscence
Of prizes that you keep in her name
Priceless expulsion of the faces that only look at you doubt
If you'd shut up about it, then, you wouldn't let us into these problems

The cults that heap in the hay
The straws that suppose
My body is made of passing pins
The ultimate reward is the success of the flip of a coin
The tresses of the trust that border social romance
The institutionalized sobered up the liberals
As the freedom was enslaved
Ignored about the three marauders
Pounced on the serf
Striped by the jungles of currency that is changing
But, not going extinct
We are stuck to our monetary exchanges we just surpass them
Hill of the doubt, flow around in the blue dye
The blue sky that reflects the sky of our rights
The doubts in the secret lives of poets
I told you I will write another one
In my own right

Light in your eyes
The song in the cerulean sky
The blue reflects in your sighs
The electricity is getting behind
I wish you would leave my shoe in the dust
The dust in your eyes
Remove your ambition
The thought like cyan
The intelligence reflected in color
And smartness in colored opinion
Overwhelmed by arguments and lessons
The prime of your protest is in a banner of the sundry
Marched asunder
The revolution came in the summer
But, the sky was red and flagged for communist propaganda
The red wave has now become a progressive idyllic
The cynics in the skeptic's eyes' look dismissive about the west wind
The ode to freedom is wrought with poetic
This is the secret lives of poets
The objects that make it sufficient for me
Fill my imagination with food for thought
Sometimes, contrivances are part of this logical progression
Are we going forward by doubting ourselves
Or keeping a hush on the activism
Except some people believe that words can make the difference
Between extremist ideology and where does, poetry comes
That's where the explicit matter is nudged in the middle
Of the secret lives of poets
In this sequestered sense, we are simply monikers looking for our own identity
As nameless, and spineless some people are
Writing helps liberate the mortal soul
Without forsaking your fame, you cannot have ideas
Hurt by this double-edged sword
We are the secret life of poets bound by welcoming words
And we found solace in our beautiful minds
That makes you special if you cannot write the special heading
On the road, the poetry page doesn't make interference in your daily lives
Tresses past which we are addressing our opinions, this is some mysterious separation of rhyme
In the secret lives of poets, we have no time
But, the eternal reflection can be quite quarrelsome if you don't seek compelling stories out of the waters that reflect in the iridescence
In this colorful descent, there is a question that lies
Where the yellow submarine is, there lies love for the underwater.
That's the state life in which we are, affected by the pronouns
With which we refer to the secret life of poets and the subject pronouns make sense when you accuse poetic device of being restrictive
That's where the secret lives of poets are engrossed poetic devices
The verbs are derivative of their nouns, and thinking is just an object
Secretly we are obsessed by this object of our wishful thinking
Writing about long stories, I revel in the concept of impressive interlocution
But, enough about me
This is a secret poetic plea
Believe us, probably
Intensity inasmuch
The extent of possible outcomes
I was hopeful about this poem, which was slightly influenced

Mister magic where is your machine at
Let's solve this at present
Give this a rest
Curiously, flying on the edge of life
Is like watching your belief in the system
Succumb to the crashing of waterfalls
Immersed within itself and absorbed by its own
It's just that being a victim of my own devices
Makes me no sorcerer

My bloated sense of ego
Bursts at the seams
Of what I call logic ergo

A court without a magician
A counsel without a jester
Makes for poor wit

The poodle stole
The noodles of sausages
And went on a roll among the rabble-rousers

The rising tide of dreams
And the pyramid of schemes
There's a false bottom in each feeling
That's called sleepwalking
Apparently, happens to those who lie awake
Thinking about their stake
In their profitable lives
You're bound to get caught
After all, lady luck is fickle

The speaking of whispers
That simplicity of love
Is the question of eternity
Depends on whether we speak the language or not
Speak in tongues if we may
That we cannot understand
The life you give to this very day
To procreate in this universe
Gives us more to reason to cry in joy
Silently listen as I sing goodbye

Belief in yourself
Breaks the bubble that is
Build on the sheer concept of flight
Depends on whether you want to count stars
After falling

Lithe in the midriff
The pithy sayings in the time
Lost by the sunflower sutra of spiritual development
The stiffness you bring makes my head spin
The rhyme of puns and the jokes you meander around
The maxims of lost dimes
The tipped waitresses
And I thought I was simply looking at a flower
Honey

Cinderella twirled her glass shoes
The complexities of fitting one
Weren't transparent enough for us
To realize that you were special for us
The sincerity with which you wear ever blue
It's like looking at the horizon
With God's glass feet
The sky is translucent
The sight of the stars
Is what makes the objects appear so close
The light shines on us for centuries from lightyears

This is the story of a message in a bottle
It was quite the large bottle
That told stories of seafarer journeys
That ended with tempests and surprise
The container couldn't float and what was inside of it
Contained and imprisoned by a prisoner's dream
A ship map in the form of footsteps
Bottles traveling many miles
Only bring for further development
I wasn't sure when being stranded on that island
Was the rescue being charted out by anyone who saw a bottle
Capsizing in the middle of the ocean blue

The buses on fire
The crowd of children
A tempestuous gaze could
Can dismember the whole age of innocence
There's simply no weight to carry

You aren't awful
Unless you've earned it
The learned considered it blasphemous
How recessive this feeling of lack of self-esteem is

Clarity is the only
Freedom of thought
That is unviolated by people's influence

The pill of reality
Is bitter
So, don't cry over spilled milk

The simplicity of tradition
Is worshipping every
Religious revelation without volition

Simplicity in it's
Most convenient explanation
Is being devoid of extinction

Having a way of life
Explained to you
Is like wearing socks in your idol's shoes

The pristine dream
Imprisoned
By hands and feet
These thoughts are the only reality

The ability to roll with the punches
Allowed me to fight my way out
But, I wrote about the violence

They called it prying
It was a tragedy
That you didn't see it coming

The suspense was real
It was so real
That writing them in 17 syllables is a probability

There was the flurry of ideas
Stillness in the land
Superstition held the people together
Apparently, they hated the bad luck

The mossy tiles
Keep the earthworms
Away from the sun
Aware of the sparging of seeds
Germinating out of the ground
Like sullen saplings

The earth is quenched
The idea is to get
Love drenched

The ocean touched upon the horizon
That's when I realized God arrived
Although we could not see
Where the rainbows and the clouds meet
We saw it in the reflections of still water
Like a stillborn baby
Born without a heartbeat

The lean mean man
Is a thin starved person
I can see light traces of you in those eyes
In the darkness of moonlit streets

The lassos that touch the sky
Pull it down
Maybe, I should keep my head in the clouds
Near clods and the lassos touched the stars

The motions that swept me
Kept me
In the balance of my emotions
It was the tide of ideas
A written apology for my unbound creativity
Maybe, it was time for us to part ways
Maybe, be realistic
Maybe, there should be magic
In absentia
To a time which we can no longer refer to
The preference of this phase is just a part of a fantasy
A fantastical thought of beasts

Eternally yours
The very thoughts that flew
Was I chasing you on your broom

The deepest thoughts
Made me where wonder
True reflection is hard to find

The thought of you linger
I guess that was the problem
I was just wrapped around your finger

The very thing I keep avoiding
Told me to let it happen
It is an obligation

A couple of vegans smoking ****
Said we blaze together and the time has been better
Nonetheless, I could invite you to sacrifice your belief in life
And go lower in the food chain and join our plea
The peace brought by God's plant
Is illegal by the way
What the **** is animal rights activism then?
If a peaceful resistance is looked down upon

I hear death hugging me tight
And my hunger died
The light of foolishness foolishly stays
Giving me the warmth I don't like
The starved affection has got me untied
Unbound by the need of clarity
In an existential crisis, I recommend to myself
The perfect remedy called sanity
To some insanity is a mode of critical reasoning
The feeling of the simplistic dreams is all you need
The dharma you follow is the only deed that tells you to fall flat
On your back, so sometimes the sky may look daunting
And the stars don't look back for a thousand miles
In your representation, there is your only passion
The pursuit of elation
The pursuit of happiness
The clarity of that stride is what brings me satisfaction
That's why I feel so lonely in the talk of metaphors
Unable to come to terms with this is called realism
Maybe, I'm happier being settled in the transcendental
The crucial attributes of this exist in the betterment of humanity
And independence of dogma, wherein a world we may be called biased
The very idea that saves us comes from freedom of thought

You're the face of right and wrong
And I can't live without you
Hoping to identify with own sense of morality

Ash and dust settled in the desert
The feeling of raindrops felt long lost
There is a change taking place in the minds
Of people who have been accustomed to mirages
Dying in the long lost sands of time
Drying by the souls of robberies that could have been better handled
I thought the heart was meant to be stolen
Instead, I lost ******* heart when I saw further ahead
In the balance of the drops of rain that brought the smell of direction
In the right place, at the right time
I walked into God's shadow

Pass out
And drink some wine
Pass on the drugs
The stars walk brilliantly
If you're high
On life
Too bad, you're the child of the moon
The feet in action fire up a chain reaction
The love will come to you soon
If you learn to sing this song of the fullest tunes
A song of our existence shared is music to my ears

In this sensual beauty
Of revelry in the bedsheets
We touch the bridges of our nose
Within the tensions, we burst forth into the forlorn festering
Of our souls, to close to connect, civilized with each other
Maybe, the sensitivity keeps us together
The masculinity telling of how you're mine
Our legs intertwined in sublimity
No wonder, I'm weak at the knees
The weeks have gone by without another loving mind
Craving for you seems just right inside
The same face produces the expressions
I fell out of love with, and the exhaustion can be liberating
The sensual beauty tells me
It takes one to know one
In the deepest desires, I do want you to come back
While my other alter ego sexualizes the image
Of your oppression and looking for more chemistry
Seems so wrong, and I'm out of time
Culpable, but, I got you out my mind
I want you just the way you are
Perverted, displeased, angry
The propositions got me so far
And I still say, it takes one to know one
Why do we keep wiping the tears?
To keep those fears away from reality?
Maybe, we can try new positions that hurt more than they pained
This distinction is getting me on
Busted by the very thing that turned me on
Well, it takes one to know one
You catch me at my every plothole
You know like it apoplectically
As I'm yours, in the best of temper
I love your soul, with a temperament so wrong
I love your body, with a permanence so right
It takes one to know one
Someday, I'll love every part of you
And all these illusions can intoxicate my conscious mind
Yet, I want you to stay with me in the moonlight
The ******* that felt tight, loosened up at the right touch
Swell up at the sudden death of a relationship
That's how I break up with someone
It takes one to know one, to understand a compelling story

The yellow windowpanes may have the smell
Of your ******, but, the resistance to change
Is as free-flowing as this ****** faltering of friendship
Maybe, someday the smell of you is unhinged
Like a door in space that opens up to the secrets of existence
Maybe, the feeling of eroticism is prone to the change
But, the friends I have gathered in this rabble all want my blood
You're the only who wants my bloodlust
Thank Heavens, it isn't an inexperienced ****** fantasy of sexuality
In this climactic hour, we should be friends, if we can't handle the pain
The dew falls from leaves slowly to make us whole again
Let it not go to waste, this time and toil
This sweat and agony of not being able to calm you in your vivid breath

A casual look at your ****
Is a simple feeling of pleasure in a world
Full of complicated goodbyes
A casual look at your hair
When the dews are falling from the leaves
And the hesitant mind is preoccupied with fear
A casual look at your **** stain
Is not enough to make the world explode
But, the thoughts I dare keep in my dreams
Ought to stare at me right in feelings

Well, my dad called me a freeloader and kicked my dog.
In the revelry of reflective drinking
I came close to the revelation of the drunkard
Closer to God in a cup of alcohol
Intoxicated by your hair
The smell of your eyes brings my stare closer
Therefore, I care about this attraction
Let's make some clear conversation
About the point of life in a small glass of ***
I love you and that's forever