In a world barred by
Lack of friendship and power of poetry
I ask myself, is this all just make-believe
How are we not smitten by each other?
Instead, we are discriminating each other
Detention centers made for people without power
Is this all just sheer bad luck for a passersby
I ask myself, is this all just make-believe
Pressed against the ***** clothes
Is a face, I'll never see it and it will never find a voice
In a world barred by
Lack of friendship and power of humanity
Our existence is befallen by its own arrogance
I ask myself, is this all just make-believe

No, there is too much agony

Brushstrokes pave the way for a convincing actor
In the most penniless circumstances
I cannot convince people to appreciate my art
It's absolution that brings me to the beginning
A feeling of apprehension of not believing that the world
Only convincing the actor in me to make the choice of dreaming
In this reality where I can live in an opulent dream
Still, I'd rather be stuck somewhere among partially awoke people
While I'm the only one knowing my role
And I must not tell this as I cannot convince people to appreciate my art
Which is simply a daydream

The glutinous substance
Splashes my skin
Dashing by my painless existence
The jesters and clowns make sarcastic remarks
On this canvas of Jackson *******
Looks like the acrylic broke on the acrid stains
It was a hot mess and the red beset with the randomness
A crazed mind, I was lost in the screaming of intellect
The critics defined the bane of my reality
I was splashing dashes of excellence beyond my time
Which felt like a crumpled paper of exploited emotions
Employing my craze in this painting of a thousand memories
It isn't realistic, but, it's probably me

This emptiness quiets my voice
On the brink of never speaking again

A simple thought
Can explain a complex emotion
But, silence explains everything
Except, the sunflowers

April is the cruelest month, with the stirring dull roots blossoming in spring rain
Lilac's still a month away, and the stems of the ebullient estivation of this end of season
But, this is Jefferson's victory over slaves, and the politics run in my sleep
Ruminating over the possibilities of dinner and sleep, I fall into a dream
I glance at the tea, feeling peckish
Poking my peevish gutter, my hunger pangs
A dull head among wintry specimens
I cough in their presence and sneeze
I an old man
Signs and signs are taken for words and words
When will the word be the sign in this world, I walked in the juvenescence
Quite jubilant were the citizens, as it was Cherry Blossom season
Never having witnessed the spectacular indication of festive fervor and the Hakagawa bows among Titans

You stay in my arms
The sobbing stops when
I lift your poor-faced countenance
You're called a ***** girl, and sometimes a leitmotif
Indeed you have been a theme in my life
The guitar cries, and I can hear it weeping
Chains and things don't beat the feeling
Prudence isn't that you can lift up my spirits
Make me feel good in your assiduous inventive
Finding ways to make me cry
The friendship that breaks, you help me
Become broken again
Thanks for being there
When I can't contact my route manager

Erudites have long wondered how civilization spread through
This oasis where you lie in your solitude
Going around the same old allegory
That you tread upon in some shadow
Books hide those shadowed thoughts
Luckily I can see through you
And the rain came again and washed away
The stars came upon me like a comet
For personal reasons, the photographs didn't exist
At least, not to my knowledge

I reason with myself
That's the problem
Lies in seldom myself
I hate to admit it
The coruscating fire rests there
I say it's probably changing the world
I reason with myself
That being a problem
Lies in my half-measures
Never completely admitting
It's probably changing the world

Chances are you forgot you have an ace
In your pocket, questionable thespians are weary, winsome women
In a poet's life, bringing him to temptation and avoiding coyness
Coarse behavior can be a form of attention and aptitude
But the coquettish reminded me of the inhibitions as an observer
An accosted girl left in a town also was a part of this terse reason
Edicts could have been written on her spontaneous knowledge
Buttressing this poor logic was her reasonable interest in my expression
Art, was a class apart when we sat together creating a dense-structured essay
Yearning for better proliferation in opulent desires, ideas were purloined
Carpe Diem became Carper Nocte
And the Illuminati Du Ponts were a sourced for respite
As her religion didn't interest me
Her faith in God brought me tears
I folded her legs and broke her spirit
Took her to a place where religion made me happy
The release was being with a long-lasting ******
The happiness was in the blood
Blackness hovered her face as she was gonna get it
The pressing of the abdomen didn't bring adolescence anymore
God what is time to those religious, but, reckless
In the everlasting love for enervated breath and emotion
Relentless, there were frescoes of superior litany veritably written

The ghost slurred
Without shape
Black ghosts do lie in the shade

Tinkering cups
Placed on a plate
The pills of sugar dissipate

Caramel cupcake
Made in salted ovens
For the black and sweet

When you look at Maria Kondo cleans your apartment
You wouldn't find mind it when she throws away
The Trump toaster in the kitchen

I have no more time to give
My cup has runneth dry
It's acrid and soapy

Too shy to ask
Is there a way to erase
Your confusion without looking into the past
Dying on the road never went by so fast

Wavelets left in vibrations of the sand
And the beach keeps the tranquility
Calmness washed over my face
As the water atomizes on the shore on the natural sands
Art wishes that it were as modern as that act of finding
New memories on a new land

Smells like teen agony, and the familiarness stays on scarred
Away from spirits being free
Living in destinies beyond your feet
Walking paths beyond comprehension
That is all might and a symbol of peace

It's scalding
Souped up in a hanging *** in some far off veranda
Overseeing the noisy place it was an experiment
Arriving at the ruckus, the stranger looked at me
Spit at the ground, dusk's dustiness rose
Petrichor in my pin-up poster of India never seemed this incredibly serene
Leveling the looks with mine, the chaotic nostalgia reminded
Mirages in the air spoke beyond illusions that were an object of rumination
Arriving at the same destination in my book store, the freedom was real
The era was good, but, the biryani seemed tasteless
The bibulous raucous youth all gathered for the food
Majorities didn't like a big difference to us
We were ill-represented in the World too, and other similar instances
We'll not find a more familiar land where we can progress
Rejecting accusations and present in the excess of this universe
Freedom seems like too much responsibility

The moonlit pavement is only a stage for two
The oaken sitting bench is meant for us from dusk
Here we remain bored, imperfectly expressed till dawn awakes us
Waiting, enchanted by an underestimation of how asleep we are
How a wasted wraith unnecessarily passing the time keeps me here
Wafting through air gently there is no pleasure in forgiving as you ask me to leave
The tumultuous storms shake emerald meads
From the island's high leads afraid of the warning sunrise
Leading to her bridge, this shore reminds me of a winsome girl
And this I cannot undo
The weight crushes me
Far from dearest friend tis' who
Reciprocates the awkwardness around you
This life, this love was all for a stage near a grey dell
Simply an act, simply a play on words
How we wait for stars upon another shore
Far from departed pleasures
Stuck in this feeling of acting spontaneously
From dusk to dawn
Dancing by the sea
Circling around the circling sands
With all faith in memory
Engraved deep beneath the wave
And we forget about today until tomorrow arrives

Woven into a blessing
The servant stitches the cotton
Picked by a child

The sorcerers' clouds
Whisper loveless quotes
On the parchment sky
Parched by drought and sorrows

Your words create vivid imagery
Making the prelude of a conscious mind
Pensive in doubt traveling a circular journey
But, the poem is just an autobiography
Of how I am so lonely
In front of my inner child

Trying to perceive the dissonance
I changed paths
Walked and treaded, went looking for the mendacious among the  
Well read, there lay somnambulant desires
Was time and space, I could not face the present summer months seem longer
The billowing nimbuses turned into the peach clouds meant to be there
Sadness washes over your face like acid and acrid Pink Floyd
The painkillers just wash down your sink with the medication
The window of torture in the soul's window
Call it watching the smokescreen with scion meant watching
The sunrise
The same reminiscent pain comes to haunt you again
They're watching and praying
I hope you find your wealth in good luck, but good wealth in bad luck
But, you can't be rich and pretend to not talk about it
Go ahead then let's talk about it

Before perfidy of rhyme wears out
Quit blaming your governments
Get them weary with a shout

Good clothes keep all doors opened
Odd clothes bring all doors to a close
No clothes are where you open at the close
Or vice versa

She's blending into the crowd, struck by the stars
The crowd washed away, beating the faded memory of him
Over my already broken doors and crumpled promises, made from the remnants
Of already fighting with you when we were bound for the feeling can't leave earth with
The memories aren't the same without you

The natural look that should be found in eyes
Comes from beautiful presences
Cumbersome, as it is the eyes are of the essence
The body is for rest and decision
You move and you are what you think
Either engrossed by moving or stuck in a lucid dream
Are you naturally connected by the feeling of what moves you to the core
Simple romanticism makes it rather difficult for us to understand how basic is this primal instinct
Is it really ancient or are wired as being who made up by some kind of pseudo-pixie dust
The body is vitiated by errors
I still look out for your features in other tendencies of pedantic behavior
I like my women like I like my thoughts
Calm and composed like the constellation of Cassiopeia

What are we if time cannot be measured other than by infinitesimally iridescent radiation be irrelevant?
As the people say we are bound just by the petulance of common life, and should not pursue higher ideals other than a plea for justice
Respect is earned by faithful people looking the dirt kicked in their face
It is better to be torturous to oneself than to seek logic for loving their flaws
Men judge more by the passage of hand by someone noble than impoverished farsightedness of a person with Dutch courage and Machiavellian results
You fall in a pretending game, and you find pretentious faces looking back at you
Wealth brings a drink, and drink if you must to lose yourself in poetry
For beatniks it became drugs, and the rashness brought them fame with a little spark of madness
I guess some of us are mad about the lunacy of this lacuna of neoteric tendencies
It could be art if you are obtuse enough to look beyond how modern politics has shaped the nature of stability
If you could be satisfied with the way you are going
Then, you might be on your way to the other end of the world
Where the political institutions are well-affirmed by their legislative decisions
While we look at hate has evolved, some of the proctors of hate of infecting our ideas beyond your comprehensive yet my colored knowledge of hatred is best shown in freedom in mindless
Yet, there is so much sadness on this planet in color
Paradise might as well be a dichotomy between photosensitivity
Like a motion picture where the title actually seems unctuous
With high octane, some poems do tend to get their questions well ordained
All of this is in my prior assessment

There are many questions in the little thing called
The consciousness and the state of madness
Which is shared with one and many
And these questions are solved by your present self
And the future and present seem to coupled into enervating instances
These are the premonitions of an old sailor
Who would be better in fiction, than a real Marauder
Such was the cry of the Ancient Mariner
Time only unravels, how much it mentions the need for apotropaic antipathy towards birds and people as such
Slightly touched and cursed by time
If you indulge in a cup of thoughtful tea
And the green color of the intoxication
By the death of a positive soul when, this imageless perception
Becomes beyond your grasp of imagination
Then the cold rain can even seem hot at the right time
With a system of channeling your fighting spirit
Cursing your opponents when they seem weak

The streetlights move past the ramifications of my past doubts
Simply, the streets are where a person can spend their life
You could be effectively homeless
And this philosophy could imply to you if the latter seems more probable
Pride is one thing when you lack intellect, but, if you are impressionable to the current literature
Then rhetoric can help you repair the past
Hmm,
Can you see me?
You do not know the immensity of your pellucid self.
I suppose you seldom read a person's thoughts
Diagrammatically, and as a diagnosis
You are feeling bad about how life piled up, and you couldn't make out for the little things?
How about the regrets and the problems solved with lovers in doubt?
The mind tells you not to ackowledge loss of sensation

The music dies in the end
The early rising of the revolution
Brings the soldiers on the fields
With their guns of gold
Reaping what they sow with peasants dying
Blood everywhere
The selected people rise from the ashes
And the pulses ripe with the blood of a thousand
Workers lying in the fields
Enslaved by violence and crime was meaningless
The derelicts of war had risen with power
To rule people with the forceful hand that pulls the tiredness
Out of these soulless passengers of war-ridden land
The peaceful valley had seen destruction and now was gone
In a second the whole valley
Had become one and broke the power
That made the powerless broken by bewitched sedimented in the fundamentalism of this land
Taken by its roots
The rooms roam from the economic crisis that could cut its growing implications
Of crooks making it a feeling that devoid us of sensation
Crying life from the righteous people
Living in the despair of resuscitation from a painless existence
Parse knowledge brings ignorance to depravity
And this is what makes the government ignominious
You may even look at it as being unattached to the people in power
Points in an argument, evolution makes a good point
Repercussions of theological evidence as it is

I was living without the need for education and grammatically incoherent truth. The books were censored beyond recognition. All of them saying "Communism is evil." Oh, the boundaries I lived within that. Dereliction kept me awake. I didn't care for what was further, all was within my simple ego.

Poisoned by your breath
Bleeding slowly from my mouth
I'm twisting in the agonizing reality
I'm so lost in love
But, this mouth can still kiss away your pain

Is there a right or wrong
Being on the phone
Start with the front
I got the white breath
I am dragon
A flow my anger
THeir's the heat and rile
Of the toil in the Earth soil
Of the old beans
And the land of where Pharaoh died
Is it the Sphinx
Or the answer to the rebellion of questionable reason
Moreover heavy in the afternoon
Look after my old baby mama
It's my mountain dog
I got one from my old hub in the neighborhood
It needed to be freed
But I fed it some truth about the world
With food, you can make this world your chartered journey
Without food, you don't' have the nostalgia that grows in
A speech that is driven by frenzy and the haze of voiced of jaded
There's no more stealing and imprisonment in a veritable diplomat
And his direction of lobbying his guarantee of studying the prudence of the land
Does our President gain is it a try or a way to fight crime
Summoning sycophantic souls and bringing freedom
There's some earnestness in wanting peace
Or freedom on the streetlights of smoky place where I had a neighborhood
Gonna go sleep and the world ain't so dangerous
Burned down the ghetto run over by the loose crime]
And the faces and thraces
Stationery prisons thickening the chains
Stagnating breath can't carry the chains of crime and punishment
Billowing the president's tenor that is getting thinner in the world
Do we have a prudent man in our society that isn't suffering
But the role's clear, pressing matters are there among us

Hey Hey Hey
Yip Yip Yoo
True and dare
To go through the place in the zoomed outland
The mumble is bad I can tell
Someone wants to write cheap music
I can tell
There is ****** in the air
And flippancy will end my misery very soon.

The years go by and I want to swim by the pools of wisdom
But always dream of myself arriving naked a school
In absented mindedness, I arrive at the period of boredom
As my vast experience of educated sorrow
Educated lie, the trains have gone
I eat potato chip
And I can tell, the longer the sentence
More it takes for her to repeat everything that went wrong
And doing the right things at the appropriate time
My lovely anonymous teacher

The years went by
And the letter presented itself
Among many a person
In the community
From law to the police
He or She was known as L
Exposure to the case would result in a mistrial
Case getting handed to the Kira case
Was known to have connections with Kira
Till now it's just how it is between them
Obsequious as L was to Kira as always
There were some battles that had to be won
And I guess it was an inferno of self-destruction
For the series of Death Note animes that
Presented the book to its real form
Thank god for the bars to academically write this letter.
My resignation till the very end.

If you're drunk too much
You're sleepin'
The child's gone
The slave's life is forgotten
For a couple of bucks in vain
Should help you make it the through the wintery night
In nature, we see the light, if the dark persists in the cloudy night.

The first family
Comes from their workshop of carpentry
The iron lady calls to her husband
Made in honor are these loaves
Of bread
A beaker of poisoned lead
You're the first love
The treasure trove of secrets
That lay foaming at the mouth
Covering the twinkle in your eyes

If I'm a fit guy
Down with fever
And my metabolism is eating my lungs
I'm smoking and drinking
Puking until I'm left with severed tongue
Cutting does do it
The smoking
And cauterized wound

The cutting doesn't cut it
I'm relying on a cheap pair sneakers
Expensive champagne and reeking of sweaty stench
******* and syringes of powder

The painless and suicidal people
In the profession of slavery
Fooling around with bouts of bravery
Ignoring a true saint from the past

Hey you're a funny guy
Don't bring the pain
The rain says I'm gonna cry

Stuck in the past
Love music with all my honesty
As much as I love the freedom

I would trade the world to see you smile at me. And make me laugh, and we could share the world.

When a boy loves you
He tells you his favorite songs
When a boy loves you
He tells you his darkest secrets
When a boy loves you
He sings in a voice that soothes that emptiness
When a boy loves you
He will want to dance with you
To forget about the fights
When a boy loves you
He'll be afraid of grabbing your waist, but, still, kiss you
Before prom's over.

The essence of you fills my idea of your arousing triggers. If only I could go deeper, then, I'd be a woman.

Compromise if you must
Leave people if you please
But, you must not please
Only left with the appeased the deceased sanity
Is leaving with the knowledge of despair
I sacrifice and some more
To desist you, I won't take your answer for the ultimate
Truth for two days
Seriously, could resist pint broken and teeth shook
The wars and the broken nerves cling onto you
Comforting you from the fear that you're not here
This place is only for us to tread without tears