You cannot overwater
A plant because you missed a day
And expect it to grow
The same way

I probably love the truth
And the Truth is poetic
I propose that poetic lines be banned
Does that sound poetic

Walk this way
Take it from the river down in the east
A place down the west
Taking the troubles of my mind
Johnny has gone south
With his guitar in the wind
The hearing's tomorrow Summer
Where's the bride
She's in court for the hearing
It's Bonnie And Clyde
And the sea of dreams
Turning upside down
There representation of something unique
A pleasant hook
Of reality
There is a pressure to create
And develop the time, I **** and feel
I know and breathe
Among Murderers And COnvicts
As one person among the dead
As many in dread
As many dread my exorcism
The hollow breaths
The ghastly sharp sensations
The terrible tools of simpletons
These ghosts just sift through your river Styx
Like me

No more tears for the virulent girls
No more fears for the deplorable men
Only farewells for the women
And goodbyes is meant for the boys

Destiny has taken a turn tonight
Our paths will cross sometime
My parents told me to look for love
All I do is learn through tropes

The sky is as blue as your eyes
Your ruby red lips are found in the recess of the skies
Your soul is golden as the fleece of the sun
Your cheeks clench in stony silence now

I'm glad you are with me
How long will this last
Heaven knows, but hell awaits
So I am told

In fossilized forests
Of evergreen
Streams flow
Stoically
Because snow hides
The furry canine species
Away from the caribou
Herbaceous and sought after
They approach the gelid waters
With the eyes of the wolves
Seemingly pernicious
And deadly
Somehow
From somewhere
A hermit enters
Without any care
To hunt from the same shore
Ensnared by the bloodied river
Forlorn

Did you know
That lighting a fire
In the forest would
Burn it to the ground?

Did you know
That spilling oil in the ocean
Would ****
The dolphins and fishes?

Don't hurt someone
You don't understand
If you seek to destroy
Find someone else, this heart is done broken now

Darkness
Comes across
Ages celebrating light
Sages in White
Tricked into
Sharing the magic

I want to curl
In a tree, drying
Listening to the breeze

Among bowing people
Some have their heads down
In the silent transience
Of tunneled sound
From the listeners, the caprice comes out
From Hakagawa bows to cognizant thinking
There's more to life than what meets the eye
There's more to life that's buried under the soil
Free from eternal toil
The ghost is a part of planetary motion
Some of our ancestors' were peckish for the universally jejune
Apparently, they went so far as to leave civilization to understand their place on earth
The human race is like a band running out of inspiration

Sometimes my heart yearns for wonder
It goes to the forbidden land yonder
Looking for a false sense of adventure
I hope to lose myself
Instead of finding myself
In more mysterious ways

Plays are good acting
It's just the bridge
Where moonlight suffices

First crush
Last love
There is no in-between

Crawling in the streets, lacking confidence
Driving past the rusted street signs, dead-ends
Running from the law, without defense
Lost in a city blinded with dust and sin
A country haunted by broken promises

So why does my heart beat faster?
When do I rush past the guns shoved in our ribs?
Why does your intimidation weaken my knees?
Don't grab me by my hair in the town square
Just take my life away in a heartbeat, I can't take it

I can hear my heart, balancing a fine line
Between courage and trust, all faith in Allah
You taught me how to fight a war like a general
With the world, as I fought with my adolescent self
It's a balancing act that most ******* funambulists fail

With ****** in my veins, I killed myself twice
A million ways you could've brought vindication
And saved us from violation and intimidation
Sheltered us from lunacy, terrorism, and vice
All we have is broken promises and crime around me

No one knows why I went bad  
When the sun rose, I lost sight of that young brat
As days go by, I'm left with my past
As nights go by, I put on my mask

All I can do is fix the mistakes
Allowing myself to set sail on lakes, first
Letting destiny be my anchor
Its sails are carried by the wind and the water

I may carry on with some abandon
And the victories might come all of a sudden
Yet, the losses do not bother me anyway
I know I am destined to win, today

A queer and epicure
A problematic diet
A teenage workout
I had to go to the prison bar
Lcked out my cell
Push ups on the go
With the trust in my heart
There was despair
I was raised to go
Home
Stay at home
Different shades
Take it from here
Better believe
You never stay same similarly
Indeed there's a reassurance
iknow
Somthing in your mind
Hard ot get, hard to figure out
SOmething bothering you
Man the racism isn't
There
It's the hate
THe sympathy and liberty
With the justice of a sullen symbol
Of sudden death
Of sombre nation
With the fearlessness
With the challenge of scale and bellicose resistance
I better work and stomp out the hate
THat I have
I was little I wanted to stay at the home
Away from the cigarettes that close ones ask for
If you knew me my face
Even the Devil wouldn't recognize
Trust me a face in the
Neu ce fleur

If the last leaf falls from the barren tree
As the flowers turn frail, cold, and dry
In the deepest darkest times
Where the soul cannot find the light

When the heart turns to nature
With the sun and moon as its guide
During the wintry depths of desperation
On the darkest nights when the stars collide

In this losing battle called life
We're meant not to win or conquer
Our aim is for the sky with feet rooted to the green
Finding beauty in the smallest of things

I grow older, deadlier, and sicker
I want the rosebuds that live
And they grow prickly
I need to live

I need to feel the fresh spring air
The youthful side of me needs it
I have learned to cherish
Tomorrow, tomorrow

Finally?

We once shared the same songs
If I'd focus, I could hear what you hear
All I needed was to let my heart act as a sail
You made me let go of fear

My faith has gotten stronger
The storm has turned into a nervous song
A song of the rain has morphed into a shelter of the mind
This power can right the wrongs in my life

But this planet will die, and so will the vile
So I talk all night about something pure
You will see that I have a life
I can't lie to you, you know I'm broken and poor

You have created a hole in my heart
There is a hunger that aches for your art
But I have waited too long to not start
I joke to everyone that she's **** smart

The wind changes speeds and the cities fall asleep
I could go oceans deep and search for that storm
But my power signals that this calmness runs deep
Let this moment of silence stay between us

The bubble gum
That pops
Covers your pop art
Or the Cherry Pop
To my misconstrued virginity

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

I want you
To let your love come shining through
Because I share the same feelings as you

Driven in the mind
Broken soul
She carries her body
Like her heart

She'll break you apart
If you come too close
Only to be too far

In her art
She paints the sheets
With the colors of the soul
Putting her lonely life
At ease

The calmness of the river
Reflects in the deep waters
When she thinks

She's my lady
And I love her madly

Who is buried under the rock
It's a friend of mine, in Barros
Walloping scallops in French Kitchen, cradling reserved Paris
In the free, memories are made often
Of these great following, greetings today
Now tomorrow now comes yeses and sclera
Is a rocking soup, in the full stomach, day after and after

Hue, in the colorful streetlight
Imagine the night of the thunderous clap, when the fly is a ****** hull
And it just hit me, and I kicked the dirt, you're life has to full of sons
If I had music like this ramble on the porch, bleeding by the fire with the letter of tout wheatish complexion
By the dog who waits on the Mitya and Alyosha is your friend in the thought that you will survive the thing that stays after that is what survives in my mind, the Ivan remembers you in his searching elegant looks

Hooking for readable pages that him to a crime of the senescence wailing, waters won't come back again tainted by the hint at the story and talk oh human nature and passion, a bold letter took from your open book, now strewn hanging in the room

Even when I'm in the drunken haze in the clear, swarthy and dressed, lilies wilt in cold art nouveau, talk of colorful tambourines
Dietrich, Lithuania rebarbative is not subjective
Folgen Sie nur auf der Ersten unlike this we search for some facts between the lines of anticipation of something crawl from under
Auf Wiedersehen from the sending  halls that for romance was once, breadth, lengths to go if you're in dearth sickness and you just keep looking to change how you react
Now, you don't even attract me anymore with stories of Lithuania and unspoken in the loveliest languages, how slovenly though
In need for love, drugs can keep this warm, the finding a drunken haze in drugs, ******, are we arriving at the naked frumpy girl or your heaven's in crisis

Hue in the callow streetlamp, your glib about Ibsen, and talk of centuries and blazing etudes that your soul collates, a thrilling merit
When they told her, that she was "yelling."
They asked her to stop making the noise, forgetting that it was music once
They saw the determination in flowery spokes, that follow the sunflower
Parallelogram van in the dim light, strong verses terse hearses
Towers calls and church were we young once, are we full of ourselves
And becoming romantic, philosophizing on knowing you and I
We must have a purpose to do this, applying and ousting ourselves of comforting minnows yarns of jocular joints cracking by the Thomas Munroe book and fireplace, trust the recesses of your mind they aren't distinctly, but, a warm gun
A free drug and Englishman couldn't prevent the brew from brimming
The drudgery of a different time and passion
Time machine, wheels on fire that talks to us and also tells us to sleep, making sure that we keep a mindful eye optioned out of the dinner sleep and talked about that
Well, we are titillating, scintillating, coruscating, shiny friable animated
Frisco bay, curiosity in the shell-shock of the freedom that talks of captivity and caitiffs, call me a coward
We are soldiers in the prisons of our mind, except most of are in the kitchen making the derelict talk, a black cat crosses the street
Talk, and talk, then the electric silence missionaries, a tabled missionary serving food to the few toward the city in pursuit of the curious one.

Art has ways to explore
You may be in dire need
But when it comes to art
You explore
In foreign cities
Sitting under yellow city lamps
Losing your way in the metro
But when it comes to art
You explore
Tokyo is such a place
I wish to visit
When I'm out of money
I explore
When it comes to sketching
Your grace
Your face
Your exotic charms
Make me clap my hands
And change my pallette
My love for the city has never changed
When the people degrade for their ruin
Get better by the years
The years change
Tokyo I need to dream about you
And explore
Hello people
How's the sunshine
In this cold weather
Love has traces of a past I can't recollect
But when it comes to loving women and friends
It's the same
Just like Tokyo dreaming

You aren’t with me
This harbour is lost
The stale air that I breathe
It is simply washed by the sea

The sweet air
The silence
The agony and despair
Is all left of this place

Nature says
What the heart knows
This empty bay
Filled with promises of yesterday

She wakes up early
As I pass by the hall
Curled up tightly
In her sheets

It's warm outside
She doesn't leave her bed
For it is cold
Inside

When the bottle
Opens
I write my emptiest emotions

As friendly you are
You are always a mystery
Etched into art
Painted onto a colorful canvas

Colorful canvas
I love the colors you bring me
In the darkest night
On colorless cloudy days
Which are characterized by greys

Greys are the eyes
That look right through my soul
Appreciating my existence
An old soul
In her windows to the soul
Greyer than her elastic heart
I've fallen for her
Till her hair turns grey
And we turn seventy

What is this life?
Where beauty is judged by false eyes
What is the purpose of this unrequited love?
When the most beautiful thing
Is you and you cannot treasure it
Because society doesn't see it
The eye of the beholder is truly blind to the light

Took a break from work,
Decide to write a poem
And I thought of you...
In blankets,
LOoking for a song,

You're living in a fascinating world
Where the languages are different
But the people are selfish and
Lost at sea
Torn apart at the seams

The poem's page is torn into pieces
The message is still on the phone
As a text
I have 12 minutes
Before I take you to pieces
Look at your ashes
They all burn to seamless
Floating on the breeze
Dusty windows at the yellow dawn
Of green day
Of ******'s release

If we lay in a field of grass
I will still love you
As I look at the stars
And you'll be up there

I on Earth far away
Writing this poem
So, distant from you
You will be so close too

In the crevice of my heart
In the lines of this poem
I shall grant you a space
In songs, books, and art

You flee like a rainbow after showers
And I still remember you in those little things
Even though my poem won't feel the same
But, in our memories we are still in that field

In the grass, carefree and restless
Youngsters looking at the sparrows so far apart
That the clouds can almost fit into the picture
Ah yes, the cloudy sky, the rusted leaves, and that old shack

But, I am uncertain of my memory
You are no longer there to correct me
There must have been a tire swing, my heart knows
I may not remember much, my mind is old

But, the puddles on this sunlit street
Have they gotten bigger or I older?
Unable to jump over them
Like an agile fox

And as I part my hair like you once did affectionately
I keep saying old habits die hard
But, why do
People always leave?

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

My mother needs no metaphors
She has abstruse meaning of her own
A music in her rhythmic voice
But, over the years she has jaded

Become fragile, and her temper often mercurial
Her heart curls up as cats do, purring softly
My love she may not endear, and the fights have gotten worse
Especially now, but sometimes I get faded too

Her heart now has a music of her own
I've forgotten the tune
She once sang to me
Now that voice is raspy and frail

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.

How's the sea without your kisses
That usher in the death of many suns
When the day is done, the sunset is for us
But, you aren't there, I wish you were

In an eternal sleep, celebrating our adolescence
On the salty air, seagulls float without care
We could be just like them, and when the sun comes
I just want you sleeping beside me, and you no longer awake

Counting sheep to keep that fragility so cherished
In an embrace, a calm will break every inchoate barrier
With an influx of waves keeping the depression away
We will be sitting on the dock of the bay

What do you do when you’re alone
Feel the necessity to indulge in something
A drink or a cigarette
Always blowing away the ****** in swirly smoke
Or downing your business deals in ****
Maybe if it’s your birthday
You’re still alone
Probably because you’re a businessman
You may occasionally take hashish trip
And imagine yourself on a minaret
There are plenty
You could choose the one of the three Pagodas
That resemble the Taipei 101
Or the CN Tower
If you’re looking for something modern
But after your escapade of solitude you need a routine for your return

An adolescent change comes often
Sweeter than a swan's song
Comes to most in a damp ocean floor
For those living in paradise
It is beyond the silver lining
Of a stormy cloud
A room in the seclusion of a Sandy beach
Let imagination empower your mind
The storm of emotions of wash away like the tides
The time away so far from the country
A life spent living in motels and highways
This song's meant for the imaginative
Finding their way through excess
This craving makes me think
Happiness will rain on my face

In the middle of the journey
I was stuck in the creek of the ladder
With a shadow of a doubt
A window ledge
A falling man on the mount
In danger
I had the specs and a major
The abstemiousness drew a couple of circles in rear
The car draws flames in the 70s
The precious simple daddy shake by the fire
Muscle cars blew across burnt charcoal
Close to burned edges of the ride
Society seems to have to joke a lot
Tell your ma and pa that we stand strong
There is a place in this life that holds me to the ground
Annoying as ever now stay in the now as you will need it every time
Every day
Touching upon the real stuff the real high
I was into the masterpiece
Of shaking hands with the devil all along

I'm different from the advertisements
I'm different from being able to check the diffident
I'm differently formed, coffered the affidavit
The defendant left me in a spell of the time that I had lost
Imbibing my guilt in the adequate alacrity, inevitable wasn't it
The loss of my sensible sagaciousness and I took it to curtsy for my childish grin
Smirks and lenience were standing upon at gaze, in the confused crowd
Only you, you were standing in the surface flowing with troughs of tridents of storms
Making choices beyond your gayness, and pristine condition was your choice of gentleness

A beautiful girl
In need of help
Came to the wrong place in town
Left with a pocket full of dreams
And a head full of doubt

The flowers shift and sway
As the sun blazes
Letting the warm breeze color this scene
With your face close to mine

Every day seems longer than the last
A violent storm carries with it the past
There's pain in my heart
That gets lost in the locks of your hair

Once upon a time, self portentous reached the fuchsia ****** on the orient in the ghostly daze of Chinatown in tassel-blue linen
Ire of the bar-keepers can be surmised in the *** and soup
The express takes me from place to place, is this some sort of country comfort

Who cooked the wurst, livers of cattle in the pure savagery of the animal farms, dreaming of vegetables too
Hiding in the form of jazz cat hanging around speakeasies, pleasuring themselves in the ravages of good people
I have changed my mind on punishment and the ire of careless alcoholism on the angry streets looking for work

The good people tell me to get work
Am I stealing my time out of mind, I'm poised
By being an unemployed poet out of luck
I am positioned towards the west end

I'm stuck here in the east, wondering if we were always like this
The west wetlands beckon to me, time to get a job and turgidly ravaging beautiful women
But, that's something possible for a man in a western patriarchy
Adonis of Denver ******* in harlots in the west of Hell's Kitchen reminds me of well-acted *******
Making bad decisions in movies seems like a farce

Most of those beat directors are successful *******
They'd beat me if I'd crawl up their personality
Is this fate or am I part of the same successful capitalist Zen
I must be going mad in this monetary fund of scarce neon streets

You should hear me recite Heinrich Boll
The train was on time

For keepsakes, well obligated and drowning in debt
A trip to the orient wouldn't be bad, but, the fire in my painted house swallows me
Someone has to put it the **** out or turn the light cold
Years went by Frumpy went cold and murderous, no more old

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

If life's in motion
It'd be swinging
With my shifting devotion

I'd love to be on
A merry-go-round
Coming back full circle

The merry go-round and swings
All bring gentle minds to the same song

This' heart's a jukebox
Darling buds of may
If you love him
Clap your hands
If you know you hate him too
You love him
Clap your hands
If you can't get enough
There'll nothing left share
If you don't love him
Then dump him
If you can, Polly...

Polly (The Poem)

Love can be annoying
But, annoying can be lovely
Women
You are beautiful
Look at a mirror
Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards. That's a true reflection.

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

Set me deep down
And pick me apart, when you feel like
'Cause I know you won't forget to remember
Keep me confused
With your picking up
Writing blocks about a stuck tape recorder

Point was made
But the feeling of doubt
Seemed longer