My restful ease, and my mellow dream
Among a class of neighborhood, looking for a birthed ideal
I rested my case, with my pack of suitcases, on the road of devilish deeds
In this land of eternity
My case carried sandalwood, creme brulee, celadon, chartreuse, cognac, a copy of today's newspaper
A phone rested in a knapsack, among other erroneously kept articles, a duet for cello and violin, icicle, a firebird, a lighter case, and post-it mentioning your number
These are my creative and crests of cemented ceramic carved poetry, in a carved out moon for the cruising werewolf driver
My face hung from the wall, just like the thought of a perfect day
Welcoming your good-intentions and charmin', a winding road disarming cars on this road to the universe

It as easy to
Fall in love
As it is to lose a craving

It's flowers and perfume
When it's you
It's poems and books
When I'm with you

It's songs and guitar
When it's you
It's four o clock
When I'm with you

I'm in my head all alone
But my heart knows you're the one

The lost dream
Is lost trouble
That drives us crazy

Let us crease
Into some fashionable risk, do not rescind
Delayed, ardent and mainly fear ourselves and become indistinct

I have bought things
Wanted things
But not as much as this entity
Called publicity

I have sold things
Relinquished things
But not as much as this entity
Called authenticity

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 flowers nervously fluttered when you died.
All have is a lonely moment of being red
A simple glass of morning of Prosecco
Would be perfect if it wasn't so morose
When you aren't coming back
From your membranes
Awakening in a simple life of blindness
In a complicated feeling of neediness
You can't see, but I can feel
Feel you
That's why I'm blind
I'm the poetry you left behind
The brightest poetry wilted in the corners of your heart.

Crimes are a thing of the past
Always brought up as a standard
Always determining who grew up fast

What the caitiffs don't realize is
Crime has no credibility
It is just a ruse to trick
So, when the time comes to fill your idol's shoes
You're just a wayward stone that ******

Trust involves the selection
Of selfless service, the trust doesn’t
Give back, but, the words do
Except they are shallow as the lack of good feelings
Needed to touch many
Shading on the mandatory need of money
Not knowing the language and speaking the streets
The crime is on the mouth of everyon blessing the violence
We could get back to the crying dove that passes natural selection
Doing unusually well in ushering in a new world
That fills me with purpose and sets my gaze on graceful waves
Like whips stuck to a chain of wounds

Are the lights still beautiful
In New York city
Does Delhi still have its vegetable vendors
Does India have rooms for the lost and lonely
Or is the highway to Hell
Paved with the souls of many
Does Times Square still have the buskers
Or has music left the air with pollution
Do Frenchmen still have confidence
Or do they smoke cigarettes and drink coffee
All in stressed out in the colonnades of Paris
Do the regulars at the Louvre still come
To celebrate Van Gogh and Da Vinci
Or do they mourn the dead elderly in Italy
Is the burial of an ostrich
Or the hiding of a chameleon in plain sight
The inspiration we get from courageous
Mother nature
Or will hope see us through
The wrath of the almighty
Finally, we will not believe in archangels
Only destiny waits for the plenty
As the beach of heaven
Turns moss into emerald
Every time a life is saved
From the storm of life
The crimson cloud chooses
In the info-demic
No one can keep a secret
But, do you want to know a secret?

You can make a difference
But, why should the aged eagle stretch it's wings...

Writing a poem
By the lake
I found my pen shaking
As I SAW the whites of his
And the blue hue of a pupil
Dilating
And the sky was crimson but scintillating
And I realizing I was taking down his life
With a pen

The way you cry
Over your bread
Recess of people make the time out of selling it by the wheat

The marijuana can **** a bit of pain
I don’t know how, I just never hoped
It would be so soon that it weeded out my mead, kneeded with *******

A dream of little sunshine on your street
I pressed my cheek to you demurred
Joyous that we had divided the new order and found God lurking in the corners of godless streets

From love that is meant for two people
And people that are connected by those three words
"I love you"
It's in our cruelest days that we find our humble spirit too
Overcome the tumult of waves and oceanic tides' gloom
It is this downtrodden spirit that sings a different melody
When it flies
And sings a pleasant tune when sitting in a cage
On a lonely cloud during the night immersed in moonbeams
Lilting on another day
Never this way
Never this melancholy have I found my soul
On my best days, when I want something more

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

First crush
Last love
There is no in-between

poetry drips like honey
fluids keep me from viscosity
of the slowness of a lifeless
nuance where I can be ******
And sensitively the one and only
My wives keep me company
Only in memory
My cats and possessions in the fray
Of poetry
My phallus keeps the gaping
hole of my fallacy
As a reminder of the unwanted *******
Time drips slow and steady
Somehow the gears and wheels
Keep me alive
I keep the tears of life
Awake in sight of effervescent might
Hotly teeming with meaning
Is a ******* that's bleeding

Inside the box of dreams contingent to divergent nightmares
In the confines of a large painting and solitude and suns
You smell the beauty of her soluble features in the eyes as one
Does it do to have a surplus of truth
The ego of driving id letting your inner self spasm without word's worth and worthiness
Relate to someone, whose heights you must torch and focus on oh so much
Buffering winds and engulfing flames, and paint of wolf and werewolves
The moist stench of inventiveness and red veritas of the current year, in the current art of the raw and cooked
Often, thousands of years could be prepared, before you learn a decade of failure, brewing strangely
Decadence doesn't exist in this defined structure wither the body withers in song and dance
Sundry and adamantine guillotines do sew her flesh in hatchets, axes, and bows
Arches and gallantry of cavalry in a dither and dearth dense censuring, of diseased purgatory
Looking at yourself beyond the riches, and rags to ditches.

Meant for each other
Leaving with one another
Angels flying overhead
For your world's sisters
and brothers
Tried and tested times
of the lover
Contrite about making mistakes
Heat brings the attrition
Of the Painstaking breaks
In the relationship
That was once heat
Now flowing
In the cold cold wind
That feels
Icier inside

You are so sweet
I battered my heart
Trying to mix it in your cup of tea

Being or being free
Humanly this just a feeling, accretion builds me
The creation is bliss, blending with my curiosity

If you aren't certain
That your work counts
You're in the wrong line of work
Your fire might die out befallen
Buttress the iciness of your handshakes
The curtains fall on your face before you make a name
For yourself in the curtain call

The westlands symphonic
With torrid arguments that wasted away
That felt different indeed

Cynicism and idealism are two sides of the same coin; this pattern appears in young idealists. The intellectuals are cursed by knowledge. They use the privilege of education to question the government. Full of vigor and all for change. But, doing little to bring it.

Better to condemn sinners
From Hell
Than to discern
From Heaven

I want us
To hold hands
But, I'm in a full time relationship
With my right one
And it isn't ready to commit

You can five-five out of the ten dollars
Split my face into a shared love
On a candle-lit dinner, talking about change
The fertile and warmer stratus of the fabric of time and traces
Dance and bounce up on the wrong end of the shore of the sunnier Big Sur
The timeless freedom of the doubt, you're not a Boy Scout
You're out of excuses, you've run out of petulance
Tell me more, that your gander doesn't accept your biscuits
Dog treats, too bad karma's a *****
The boy scouts don't take some witty transient soul
Gender dysphoria, where in the world, I'll show you fear in a handful of tuilles and caramel dust
Smoldering a smitten cigarette, and the reciprocating love of the numinous
Bumblebee flying of the wrong note, in the symphony
If you can play it slow, you can flay it fast, indeed
Tres, doux, un and the numbers are wrong
3121 are the redacted numbers of the phone that I broke, the writer knows where the rubber's at
You know the time, fief
The trembling fear is a pied piper dream, I'm breaking my nuts
On a growing pair of hopes, that shower me with colorful affection
Afflicted by the greed, and lithe people are my illumination
They have Swede dreams and Swiss sweets
German grobschnit and psychedelic for the arts, centered around cherry pop
Coke's a drug if you snort it with the straw until you get the ice out
Tentative and attenuating, alarm me by the evoking stoner's death
Daydream and dredges of some sinister sarcasm wake you up out of being a criminal dude

The skies are blue
The grass is green
I am sure you think like this about the air
Too, in your dreams

Or when you hear the birds
Chirp on a lonely branch
Only one thought remains
To be with them in the essence

Of every second
There is a cadence of the heart
In every that bird sings
That is what is pure art

When the fire dances
As the water sings
You cannot follow your chances
Just fiddle with your hair as if it is a dream

Feline lips
Tightened
Midnight living
Is or the uneasy awakening
Of the people affected
By corrupt intentions of purloining
Infected by the greed
Love is all you take in the beginning
The bitter high ground
Is like the pale blue sky
The reconciles with the perilous existence
Too bad, if this doesn't help
You should look at the grey clouds made of silver linings playbooks
Like new book readers
And newbies
I sip my coffee, bitter and sweet
Enumerable by the waves of sickness
That hit me in the perishing lands
By the sandy dustiness of places that are beyond
My time and the possessions, and the thesaurus
I keep in my bag reminds me of the words
You were, in my circumlocutory motioning
To the suns behind the thousand splendid times
In a land without mirages and mines, my legs feel like landmines
I can't walk on them anymore
On anymore
On the road
Far away from home, there is a system of the drowning sun
Antediluvian sun, don't come back from this rising sultry skeptical land full of light
Too me mirages are just objects that appear closer than they are
And dreams are made of these
I believe
If I believe in me
Then, I'm one with this homeliness
Then the feeling of being pecunious about my own nomadic tendencies
I probably roam in the bare wilderness
Tended to by psychedelic instances of the bitterness of a hundred blows
A hundred blows represent a hundred battles
Dealt with, in the dancing moonlight
The night sky covered senescence of a field that had seen a thousand suns
Hidden by light
Identifiable with the dark
Afraid of time and beyond

The truth set in stone
Unhinged souls
Of a metal brother, often subject to sacrifice
I guess you believe in fate
But, some scientists in us look for the way of the physical world
Balancing on logical statements

The sun makes me squint my eye
There are times I don't wanna see the light
The cold makes me clutch my arms
You've held my eyes in your cold gaze

We could walk over the streets in the rain
The steps look like a painting of *******
Colorful but bleak, full of pain
The glaze of the puddles shine on the night

The dandelions in the field make me sniffle
There are times I don't wanna see the light
The cold makes me clutch my arms
You've held my eyes in cold gaze

There was a lot to take
From the stranger to this lake
Where I learned to read books
With pages as dry as they were fair
Cheeks as wet as the rain
Not despair just skipping
A page in my life
Tears the whole passage
As I rush to break the suspense
Of not knowing what happened next


Instead finding the mystery to life
My mysterious heart just died a little inside
Not seeing my friends and family make it past
The future that was I thought
Would last
Me for a lifetime among similar life forms


Being Misinformed

The stronger the love is
The weaker our hearts become
The vulnerability becomes apparent
And love loses meaning
Unless, we fight against all odds
To protect our worth
From falling into an abyss
Or the heart of darkness
Engulfing our souls
Too bad I am immersed
In your poetry that sets my heart ablaze
Leaving light in the cave

It's my fault
But I won't apologize
For the way the words
Seemed to carelessly fall
Out of my lips
And enter into nothingness
As you would grasp for some
More...
Hanging onto my every last

Count to ten
Let your temper go away
At the first second, or knock yourself out
At the second slices away the cake, count the next one
The third second comes after a day of the second coming before it
The fourth one, wait for near a five-second stop between minute indents
Sixth, seven, then comes eight
Where's nine, close to your thumb
It's in your pocket asking for seconds
Before it is ten seconds, you're out of time.
So, before you get angry
Count to ten
Continent...

Love isn't blind
It just doesn't allow you
To see in the dark necessities

First of the part of the journey
The sea washes
The sand castle
In a hassle of moist touches
Shaping my future like God's touches
I feel blessed
As the empty red sunset sky watches
Looks like the faces of the dirt and the dust
Lay the waste to the degrees of the deserted fields
Cause the spring time rains on the
Heads on the bickering rabble of the lost civilizations
Where has out water gone?
Where is our respect?
Smirking MAGA kid convicted of arrogance
Pretend to be docile to bring out the silence
In your enemy
Provoke disgrace by being free
Out of the trees
Of last vicars
That make the yellow tainted spruce
Meant for the civilized truth
Darkness cannot drive out darkness
Only love can do that

As you gaze into my eyes
I hold you close to my heart
Caring for you deeply
Hiding the hurt inside

I don't trust myself
But my heart is yours
In this solitary moment
Do you love this man?

When you touched me
I felt the warmth
Travel through me
Like a light in a dark cave

I have seen your gloomy eyes
They notice the stars in the skies
But, they float on the dark circles under them

When I ignore that barren ocean
Of your empty eyes
That reflects a heart full of emotion

I see you have traveled lands far and wide
Only to find someone who isn’t as starved
Of light

keeping the shadows
off the sky
the moon dies
alive on their side

Perturbed by the thought
What's a worry
If you do not have prior inhibitions
The posterior argument, is you do not stop
But, reconsider the consequences of your callous doubt
Crowded around protesting crowds, bombs ticking silently in bags of clouds
Cherishing and chinchillas running like limericks
That I can't tink like trinkets
Glasses that should be served and primrose deepens in color
Of rose wine and red blood, the presiding appeal of reds, as long it blushes into better hues
I keep digging, to not come out
That's how I judge until I touch the rocky bottom
Nudge in the rock bottom with my buttressing tools and clinical trials
Like racial profiling of the blue-blooded

Believe in God
Because a lack of faith
Doesn't make much of a protest
A little devotion goes a long way
Till you can walk in your own footsteps
Search your soul
Bless the child
Express yourself
Admit your lies
Let the truth set you free
And you'll be moral again
If faith seems to falter
Believe in yourself
Taste the sky
And know that it is all painted
In his mind of creation and preservation
May you be joyful and true to thee
Holy holy
We need your prayer
Share your posessions
Leave your living outside
Look inside the gates of Eden
Every morning praise the Lord's romance

Shadows wash the moon hastily
As the waves wash the sandy beach
But not as lazily as the sea
Time is of the essence
I hope we can meet soon

The red rooster cries every morning
If your job is to be sad
You'll cry every breaking dawn

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

I'm pretty sweet
When cupped
I'm black
As the night
In the night
I'm your coffee
Keeping you awake
When you sleep
During the day

She was the deadliest
Of flowers
I couldn't wait to smell
Her leaves
From where the dew drops free
But I had to wait
A thousand mornings
For the flower to bloom
Into the dawn
Before I could see her In daylight and hue
In a morning gown and silken hue
Like petals spread against the cellar door
If I look into her pupils
I will lose my mind
If I flick her anther
I will lose my own curiousity
Curious and coy
She is a lady, alright
I am a preacher among playboys
A floral delight
Who shows her beauty
In disguise
As I close my eyes
She takes my life
And I take her fears

There are no
Similarities between us
Just dead space

Press your ears against her
Heart
And tell the world she was beautiful
With yours