I called captain Ahab
He told us to forget the whale
We told him to understand
If he was to drop the sails
Or we might as well belong in jail

The years turned to centuries
The jails were dead
As the Gods looked everywhere
They found me hidden under a chair
I said I was praying for death instead

Captain Ahab sat in the courthouse
The judge asked me why he didn't listen
I let out a laugh and said he does
They said you can't speak
You have to listen first

The streets were open
Captain Ahab sat next to me
The glass was filled too soon
The bartender said the car was here for free
He told me finish your drink, first then flee

The captain asked what was in it
It was empty
Isn't everyone full of themselves
He told me that everybody is empty
I told him because everyone acts the same, probably

I left breezin'

The thing was done in unspoken of
But, never forgotten after all

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

Thunder talking away
The water makes a deadpan expression
Apparently, it has broken the levee
There are plenty of fish in the scenery
The colors of the water seem cold and pale
Like the bloodless sun, orange in the November rain
Rain falls like the hallowed name
Empty as the words unspoken and unsaid
The laying dead were rotting in the made bed
As the cat crossed the street in the red of the alleyway
At Abusey Junction
As I saw I placed myself in a mention some girl in compunction
Compunction is the feeling of regret
I had felt the loss of someone dead
Now I meet her alive in the flesh
The stray dog doesn't break its spirit until its rabid and dead
Stuck in the rabbit hole of poverty and bucket full of paint
Yes it's some schmuck who takes care of the government
That looks like it
White house
A titbit, a yesteryear
Making a smidgeon on the books I tear
Apologetic but delightful as a library in the storm
By learning more about the wisdom you take from unadulterated undulation
Rap that you heard
Over the grapevine with the bebop that you heard
Come in strong like Marley
Last long Davis, rhyming onomatopeia
Bumblepuppyish about ya
Now what in a toward glance
Due change your mind
On a place you find
The room with a view of the home you're in
I'm trying to find your sister under the meadow
The same weariness in lieu of the window at the funeral
Stained by rain of war undermining

Prices of keeping
The commodities cold
My meats
Stay in the deli
Meant for family
Later I realized
Someone needy
Had to steal
I have stolen before
Never before for myself
I belonged to disease
And disease needs a cure
And I sell cured meats
Now

Treading between the leaves
Myopically stricken off the record
Keeps me coursing on the fallen leaves
Golden, brown, yellow, orange
As the height of my captivating self
Comes up with the peaceful
Suicide, orange is the new black
Of living half-conscious through memories unknown
Beknownst tripping or hallucinating
On a brimming hallucinogen, die inside or unbeing
Within the happy recess, we aren't able to say something about the same karma
The king can do anything if he can carry the humor
Spring can finally be full of mist, everything is still

The sullied summer
The toil
Bring the ringing dead doorbell
Of bleeding angels like Lucifer
In Paradise Lost
Reigning in Hell, and lost in purgatory
Watching nowhere, however, down on me
Looking down on me, I mean
I mean, you ever have that feeling that you are walking in discomfit
That the perfect word that comes to you is in someone else's welcoming words
That's why we abuse like intellectuals, deprived of any wishful thinking

Is it only I that sits alone
Waiting for the coming of the next bus
On a desolate stretch of road with no one
Among us, with only my thoughts to keep
Me company

Is it only my life that serves as a reminder
That I am truly at peace when I have no one
Beside me, in my arms, to talk to at
Midnight under the blankets at 3 am
In a haze of agony and bitterness

Maybe, it is only me
And I am with myself knowingly
Waiting for the road to end, and the bus will never
Arrive for a bystander like me, but the doors
Of a better life are open to the man looking for acceptance

I'm God's lonely man. And I need redemption.

The first door is open
It's someone I do not know
I cannot make out the memory of my abduction
I'm looking at the last door too
The last door is right next to me, as an immediate want
Starts from the secret shadow of the occupancy
A closed room for every open room, serried steps, and no stairs
Lights carry the pain forward step-by-step
Carrying life as it's the last gully
Like a cold ally, hunger goes from door to door
I realize I'm out before I've reached home
Simply following the warmth of light and living humanly
Missing home and carrying advances to forward promises
The last door opens to those who are waiting, like a mother I once remember

Mother I want to go out
You are my true friend
But where the dogs are
They bark and howl
I once strolled the sold out stores
Where no cold fog settled on the windows
I shall come back to stave away rainy splores again
There will be no heat left in summer
To water the clouds in monsoon
To wail in the forked night
Who feels dour now
As we drink to our evanescent escape
Or face the fire on the final hour
Merely existing
Maybe, as deadly whirpools
As the wind rakes in the leaves now
As autumn warmth decomposes
Wasting into an unbridled heat
The azure skies seemed beautiful yet irate
None compare to my favourite
Red dusky light in anticipation
Every evening for a lonely winter
As summer moves in evanescence
The year looks older with seasons

Verse A
Read the poem, begin reasonably
You and me and my dog
Too many people to tie together
A long lost feeling keeps them tied
For poetry notes in the turgidity of dying dogs and crying children in rushin' in tatters, monochrome pants, and tiny spits
Of fire coming on tattle giant of le plus femme, forlorn furrowed eyebrows loop deliciously
Children need dealing, metro streets in this dystopic inventive seas

It's a better
To have a jazz cat
Follow you to A flat
I got so drunk and wrote
That I had to quit writing
And I had to become a conman and drunkard
Now, I'm not sure which one I do better
What does it mean?

I have sleepless nights, just like you
And I have basic empathy

Thinking about the dinner sleep, and milk
Bread and the tea, and some fatless skimmed milk
Some grocery lists that have no dough as flour
Or as a flower as dowry
As the blue weather, spills like the fall of the hokes and lores
Of the Hokkaido's that implore
Of the tresses of the crime, the airbrushes of the breaths
The swords live within the cuts of the picture
Mixing with the texture of the freeway, we can beat the traffic

The time
Talk of dimes
And equity
In mines
The leaps
Of vines
That flip through
My mind
Abseiling
Through
Warning
Signs
I need to forget
Her presents
In my presence of mind

We welcomed the war in the confusion
On our souls with shrieks of haunting derelicts
Reminded our parents that we were wrong, whispers of the honorific Hakagawa bows
Predating the caitiffs of the pejorative context of the peace talks in the city light bowing out
Trenchantly expressing ourselves in vapid cigarillos, looking for another kick
We got kicked out of the missile nation and ended up on the radar of meritorious icicles
We smoked up the clock latching on the count of tacit reason
Blessed by reason and cursed by ignorance, wandering the blue skies in wedlock

Birds keep me company
My heart's alive
I have my friends
On the other side
Arriving at places
I hence made station
Keeping my friends
closer
to
birds
Their hearts lighter than owl feathers
Awake for the nights
Tired due to the days
Me and my apprentices
Share the glory
Of being together

A good old cup of coffee also worked for him during the morning. Rituals and considerations didn’t matter now, but, getting a place to travel was never an issue with Henry. However, there is a disregard for personal safety when looking at a woman of the similar sarcastic pleas ‘Cause we’re not alone and I just can’t believe that a typewriter works well enough to tell about the people we hate.

Placing my movies within
the sun setting
the hills alive
but the music
keeps it's shores on the
valley
As it flows like lakes of meaning
My reflection of children
Keeps my innocence
In the waters of solace
selfless
Lively but vivacious
She's the ******* my mind
So, hey
When I see that whirl
In the ripples of water
I see that woman of my life

she was sharper
than she was honored
than she was thy daughter
Thankfully she didn't cut my life's gun
Knockin' on heaven's door, shot in the dark
Smile in the dark
I see you shoot starbeams at my just wind
I see you shoot lasers into my wet eyes
I part at the seams, and the child washes over me
I perfect thy lifeless body in the icicle of the gauged mines
Put my hand on my hand, and touch the lantern
Torch the lantern, if it burns we have passion...
You have depths without measure
Compare thee with a sonnet
Mortgage thy will
Hope is a ligature mark
Wanted to assure the world that i live on a road that goes a gas station
Here goes, want a ice or water
Do you want frozen or cold
On my hand
What does a toad and frog
Have in common
Uncommon hops
What does a lantern and torch
What does a lat and flat
What does a latitude have with a flat dude?
Hey flat top come over
Gator shirt eat my ****
Handless sleeves fill
Lark my looks
Here are my hooks
I'm in the middle of a song
I'm in the pestering skirmishes of war
So, keep walking and hang on
Keep running and walk on
Keep lifeless day dreams to help you eat
Keep your land and my feet together, you brilliant write
Keep your lassoes on my feet, and my last soul

If I'm a dreamer, I want another one
But, she is a dreamer that never wakes up
Did that summer put a fire in your auburn soul
Did that winter push the last of icy cycling through the rainforest, do you need a vacation
Do you need a meditated latitude
Do you need a lamp?
What do you have?
What do you have?

Here we are, and here we go
Is that all there is to stationing our last minds on our last guys
I love you and love you, but the there are there and that
It's just moving around, and no substrata
No stance on substitute for a witty existence

*******, I'll **** you now
*******, I'll **** your mouth

Find my life in your passages

Master Of
Baroque
Penniless
Architecture
The stones of walls
Compliment the gems
Of darling
Buds
That looks like curves
Of orchestrated opaque
Translucent Textures
Marble is beautiful
Even in it's
Clearness
But the
Human
Loves
Marbles mildly
Wet amidst cells of
Cream colored columns

Sometimes I wonder where are you
Your sliver of light still shines an approval
Was that the mirage or a road to paradise
The love shines on

You can free me
Step into the sun
Call it a day of Heaven and polyamory

Drive by the roads
I had slept on
Life's become a blessing
Turn on
The lamp
That starts the cars

I walked up a narrow stairwell
Hearing the soundly innocence
Within my despair

Blood stained the wainscoting
The sanguineous dispaly
Only leaving my temples hurting
I was about to scream, "******!"
But, I wanted to see before I weep
In case, I get a seizure

In my room
Everything, still like water
However, sepulchral and suspenseful
The macabre got to me
When I saw mother hanging from the ceiling

Gaining consciousness
I found a knife in my fingers
Saw a man fleeing

Now, I realize
I'd rather be dead
Than be living on borrowed breathing

Keep writing poetry because the liberation of the mind is the only way to celebrating freedom and overcoming adversity through your writing.

She keeps him
In the reflections
OF meandering
Waves
Prelude to her blue
Hair
Blackened
By age
He reminds
Her of herself
Prurient tones
Of the warmest
color blue

I lost you on a stormy day
I remember it started raining
And when it stopped pouring

I was left with memories
Birds relishing the storm
Chirping and enjoying the breeze

What have I done
I shattered the windows of your thin soul
Stole the light of your blue eyes

The flowers rot away in an empty tomb
This bird will fly away soon
After the storm eats me alive

The skies looked starless
I sculpted the moon with a clasp-knife
I felt the power of time
You told me to take back my share of loneliness and heartbreak

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

As the periods of school-going were tossed away like paperplanes
Remind me of the dazzling eyes of the panes and ladies across
Which are too far back now to touch
And the memories are much like a lover's argument

My old lark
Is a singer and a poet
He is a dancer in the rain
And he can fly in the dark purview

The flowers are tired tonight
Breathless as the air around
A mix of moon dust and star light
A lunar eclipse comes out

The stars evade the clouds
With a sky so silent, I hear moonbeams
The wind beckons to the distant hounds
"It is his last night, run free."

Let's accept this moment
Where is the harmony
In those free from inner torment?
It is rare to be without fragility

As I shed my frayed clothes
My nature is laid naked for thy senses
I accept the highs and lows
Knowing the depths of my resilience

Your arms
Can carry the sun

The sunshine is on your shoulders
Because the light overflows

If you only looked at me
You could make me happy with a hug

She dies
With the flower
She wants your love softly speaking as the morning sunrise
She wants your attention
Like someone in love

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

I am half
Of what I was
But, what counts
Is I live life to the fullest.

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

There is no warmth
When I wish you the best
There is no cold touch
Of your eyes

The air between us
Has passed

If I don't remember you
You will always have a place in my heart
Like a reflection in a cracked mirror
Endlessly looking at itself at each segment
Never looking at me, though
Poignant isn't it, that we are both broken

Heart as one, could we be honest with each other
Body as one, the body stops on free crusts of pizza
Soul as one, without pizazz telling us how to die with the triumphant
I ask you where do we add and make two?
Truth is a rudimentary thought, that lacks pretention, but, not imagination
Freedom gives us thorough doubts on war, but, brings peace to the children and rib-scares to adults
Adulation is panic in the livid dichotomy, do a little and there's entropy

I leave the crusts of the pizza, and that causes panic
Freedom of choice, kinda cheesy
Like all imaginative things, love is the flower let it grow

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

Devotion and darkness
Have a thing in common
They become clear in the light

I'm not missing her
Sad that her scent faded with the breeze
She's gone with the wind
I'm not missing a part of my soul

I'm not missing her
The blush on her rosy cheeks
Is a faded memory
I'm not missing the better half of me

I'm not missing her
But a part of me is with her
It calls to me
"Forget her."

The more you write the better young et
With the raging heart mumbling
In his sleep
Can't you tell
There is no praise for her mother
Can it be

A million unspoken words
As the rain pours
When the flowers shiver in the cold
The morning comes

I'll wait in the dark woods
Searching in the corners
Where desire lurks
As the sky hides from plain sight

Sleeping soundlessly
My mind stays awake at night
Hoping for your touch
Yet forgetting you constantly

I did not know her sadness
I cried and wailed, slightly amiss
Like a man in bad company who is blind
Now my heart looks for an escape

I just want
My second chances
-An old lover

A candle burning bright
In the forest of the night
Seemingly wild
The Waxing Moon