The mundane nature
Of something
That can be maintained
By the force of nature, and the pressing matters
All fall into some kind of unconscious wiser self
That, your own nature
It isn't tabooed by your ideology
By simple tautology, you can make the logical connections
Some kind of fluid motion in the large but infinite place
There's your hope in your own self
It's your indecision
That makes the entropy of the universe
The chaos that presently brings
Tomorrow is your own perception of this hope
Maybe, if you can take your time
If you tried
You could probably think that this void
Is filled by that point of view, and it gives you acknowledgement

I am afraid of death without fulfillment
But I fear the coldness in the tomb
Demons gnawing at my self-esteem

Yet, suicide is such a sad end too
It takes away happiness and love
From someone who has never felt the two

Leaving an corpse with a double death

A crisis is eminent
The credence is gone
Accrued interest
All the fiduciary responsibility lost
I need an eternity in Emerald Glass Ceiling
Where bars let in the green sun
And the surreal nation
Knows a dictator wears pajamas
Like any person wears pajamas
But, many of the poor sleep naked
And the dictators and kings
Are never naked
They can wear emerald around their tin cans
On Grand Street
Up and down the block
Below the alley within Belgrade
The mailbox is locked
All responsibility is lost
Stolen cash in the cash register
No one can talk about the burning house
Where the hurt ate liver pie
Calculating the next Christmas wine
Emerald colored sky
When will you cry?
Cry till sun beats for forgotten souls
Moonbeams turn green
Into the ocean unknown cockles and fettered fish
Hooked by reflection of water and moonlight
Eternity in a palm of God
Looks like a winning hand

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

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

The place was a crowd
But in her eyes
I felt a little older
Stuck in the crowd

You shouldn't have to
Buy time
To buy someone's love

In poetry
We look at every moment
Trying to make it poetic
With nature we cannot be so liberal

It is a blessing that the natural state is evocative
Yet, when it comes to human greed
Children torn by strife and forests devoured in blaze
Poetry has to embellish the truth once in awhile

I respect poets who can write it as it is
Without being cryptic about fact
Allowing men to digest what they read
With eloquence- using Silence and Time as friends

For a poet, every moment missed
Is a word gained
Because the more we see
The less poetic it all becomes

Something's up
With the right places
And plasters I can tell
Which one's the island
In the distance
Of the expanse of your parades
Your merit and bandit of pirates
The semblance for the redacted statement
Edit in this winter
Summertime
The hard lines that I told daddy
Ahead of the dreams of rain
Under the thunderous clap
And some laughter
With the hail of popcorn
On my lap
A failed abstrusity
A strange reality
Different shades for race

Sitting on the pew
Praying for warmth
Soon we will lose the evil breeze
That makes us lose the trees

As the homeless die and turn blue
Waiting for the train to salvation
Nature cries if you listen closely
"Peace is the last station"

The conductor calls
All aboard on Train 6 at 6 past 6

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

If there is a chance
You see me
I will see you next month

Why do I write
I have read so much
If I had so much to say
I would have thought Much more before I spoke
Maybe the pen is my slave
Wishing for handy companionship
Why do poets prophesize
Is it because they care
Enough to act
Do I write here on this site
Because I am looking for love
Or trying to spread wisdom
Or am I looking for right words when in doubt?

I just want
My second chances
-An old lover

A heart needs a beat
And heartbeat needs
A word of life called God

This wave of peace
Tells me you can't
Bring them on their knees

All of the differences
Effects of the past
You still make sense to my mind

The celebration of a person
You are the breath in my existence
There is a refreshing feeling of the exosphere exodus

I over 10 feet of the ground
With my pride in my pocket
And my cap snapped back

From down there
We know you can't climb out
The Lord won't hear you
He thinks nothing is wrong

She knows that you're wailing for love
She knows that you're waiting for her
The moment's gone, time's passed
The past is gone, all there is is now on

If I'm getting better
Then, it's getting worse with the times

If I'm getting better
Then, it's reading between bittersweet lines
Serried and sweet

If I'm getting better
Then, it's getting better with my drowning
As I indulge in my ocean of surfing oceans
Repleting the lines and repairing the metaphors

If I'm getting better
I'm here for a good time in a badland with the metaphorical girl
In metaphysical worlds with epistles of compartments
I'm getting better, as the line keeps drowning in it's meaning
It's here and now and in the next line
Waiting for you in the extra mile in a time other than this, at least not ersatz to arson

If I'm getting better all the time
I revisit my poem again on highway sixty-nine
And write one more, in the regretful repose
Adorable and somewhat waiting for your next line
Instead of counting the faults in my words for the children falling on the earth looking for ghostless cars
Trailblazing the streets of Godly proportions, see the letter of red

Hoping they will disappear completely, but, everyone is around here
Everyone is so clear, but, so full of tears for fears sanctifying
I'm conscious of my own fears, I just hold back the glistening tears
It's a real tragedy when people are afraid of the light when darkness drives away the children of the post office pedestrians crossing the mind of my angry streets

We are in the fear of darkness, the plight is just everlasting
Pushing ourselves out of our sleep to dream of peace in our state of mind, often unconscious of what's there in immediate memory
Apologizing politely for what isn't ours to keep even though it is love, serried and sweet like our ghosts
Dead inside, because of these fears and elated harmonic motions of the spies of the motionless stars in Swedish skies dreaming of cinema, crime, and punishment for the dialing phones adding those soundtracks to their lives
Addresses, books, and phone numbers in the booth on an extra mile, waiting for a one night stand to get better knowledge about the road
Finally, we are asking strangers
The right questions, dreaming of centuries
In burnt letters and burning consciousness
Lintels and fireflies all shine in the timbre of the beating wings of flying centuries
We weren't sure of what we were doing was right, we were inventing ways to live the best part of ourselves and finding happiness in rarity
The lives in broken places, and the tears of the greater good, selling ourselves to the punishing attitudes
Optioning for realistic perceptions, and picking them from the payphone
Extra line for the ones waiting for a reception on the cell phone and the mundane conversations turn into romance
If I know love is in your house, then, I'd need the number to your street
Serried and sweet, and the pictures are enough to keep of weird fished out seeds
Love is the flower, let it grow
And these mundane conversations will turn into a passion
Talking of the romance in a time where are timeless clouds and living out our times, pursuit struggling with our free cloud

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

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

There was a time
When a boy lived
In a home of keys
He had a key for every situation
One day, a man approached
Asking him, how do I live with my wife
The boy searches for a key
He finds a flower crested one
And says, this shall placate your wife
Let me warn you, however
At the full moon
The key disappears
And so does its magic
The man goes back
Tells his wife
Look at this beautiful ornate thing
The wife says this is perfect
For now we can be the best of lovers
The husband delighted with his purchase
Waits for the full moon
Wondering why a key
With such lasting happiness
Should have temporary power
The full moon approaches
The wife is always toying with the key
This worries the husband
But, he allays his concerns
Thinking, his wife will not mind a bit
For now, let him enjoy her company
And he had been getting plump lately
When the full moon arrives
The wife seems pale
The husband now understands
That it was the key to her heart
Now the magic had died
With it came sorrow
As the key vanished
She locked away her joys
Forever, in her heart
The flower never blossomed again

Somewhere where there is a place
For both to meet
One might not be
Unforeseeable

The eclipse
On the rise
The eclipse
Of the
Crimson tide

The half burning light
Keeps the tepid
waters
Of June
The green light
Can't be seen
Felt only by the blind
Who need not see
Envisioned by destiny
And the other can hinder
the elation
Of reaching his loved one
Loveless light
Of the blind and thirsty

"I found her"
He says

"I found him"
She confabulates
With someone else about the presence
Of destiny
And how I found you
In my delight
And the other can hinder
the elation
This is a letter of superstition

Face to Eyes, Lips kept me on every
Pursuit of her words
That's how I follow the two
They kissed blind to the heat
And tea lay besotted with biscuits
They could touch and feel
And the nights and days
Seemed the same

The time was same everywhere
For those two

I guess identical time
Is when you work to get up
To a sun's eclipse

Faceless Tea
No reflection in glass full or half empty

Presently, at the most assured stakes
In claiming that had better read the first half of your excitedly short novel
It is fortunate enough for us, that we can look at it.
There's a chance there has been a robbery.
Where I knew that Mr. Adams was up to no good.
Ken is always up to good.
Well, he's your son.
Well, I suppose he can be excused. Ask the postman if we have any mail in yet.
I suppose we could just skip this thing with Adams
However, captivating that might be.
I have a meeting to attend to.
Well, I'm sure to make it.
DId you find anything in the mail?
Yes, a letter with peculiar postage stamps from...
What is it, Watson?
Seems like I've forgotten to mention that Mary's died.
Has she now?
Well, suppose we could look through the case files.
No, that is unfortunate.
Imagine you were never alone.
Without Katie and Mary.
Of course, that would be unusual.
Came to my knowledge that I had to offer you a benefit of the doubt.
I suppose Adams, Katie were your best friends.
You wouldn't be wrong. Mary's fortunate enough.
Also, want to introduce some true respect for people in other's narratives Watson.
You started taking off time about Mary again didn't you?
Katie wasn't really there she was.
"You know I guess. Tu recht wie immer."- Watson
"Did you now. You didn't even stammer"- Mary screams
Watson claiming he couldn't place himself to speak

There's no need
For fighting
When you're broke
Breaking down
Seems better when the
Punches
Help you roll
With the
Many mundane
Crutches
That life
Puts you through
With a satchel
On your back
That's now an
Evolved briefcase
Of faithless leather

You're sunlight
The shooting star
When I seem to get far, washing across
the windows
The meadows of the grass fields that look like gold
Derbies and drama raves that repeat
Psychedelic suns that shine-like eyes, that don't see memories
You're topsy-truly, diggity like pygmie that hides form new memories
Spirited away like the creative economy, of the Neo-dystopian novel
That you might read in your spare part shop, but, the wood-chuck that works in sanding machines
Like a hummingbird ******* honey, and woodpecker clucking trees
We are just going on repeat, existing in this vagrant vacuum-like vicious fun universe
Dreams that fly like the antecedent of ambition
Without intelligence, ambition cannot fly like the birdless heights
Semaphoring and titillating like the jets in the celestial stream of breaths, vacillating with every adventure
Vicious disaster falls on the crepuscular lands
Ebullient and eddying like a daydream, lakes that shine like the shores with silver linings
The gold is counting, and the stars are all shimmering
In the Bacchus and manors, land us on this planet immediately
Perfection and make-believe is all it is really, nostrum like novels that I've read so far
I find you in lost books, shining in these fictional devices
That's how I know you are a reader because you tell me these coincidences are surreal
I sure that I make them out to be chances or serendipitous serenity, shooting stars efficaciously

The inferno faltered at the canopy
Of the trees
Seemingly on wings of fire
And the sunlight danced
Just forget it
The trees don't fall with talk of fruit virginity
Push and shove that snake down your throat
And the things and objects and the proud professor
Puckered up and said, how would like to **** your own teacher
Sir, my lord is no preacher
Son, there's no telling who you'll be naming
In this crept, decrepit detention that was held by a forbidden book perfect for modern times and fame
All might say, a son of a preacher man is tame
But, this was just an ember waiting to die out
Losing its oxygen needed for propulsion in academic excellence
The detention was a must
A Freudian complex as a result of veritable desires
I must say, I'm not sure that ******* younger tool that kept me waiting forever
I wonder where is the fiery innocence that gets in on the drama
The places and the traces of which show some youthful respite
All fall into despair and faux pas moments with some strangers
Of the night, and that is why I prefer keeping the darker side to myself
For people who can embrace it
Preface that with the factotum who keeps watching you, in and out of the detention center.

Twisting in anxiety
Nobody had told
me their
Secrets
In the plane
I guess they lacked piety
As they hijacked society
In light of their deeds and deities

Hey, we could be old together
If you could sleep with me on an ocean
Till I start sinking and the record stops playing
All those precious tunes, when I barely could breathe

You stay with me in my mind
None of my pictures come back in time
So I picture them, as they fade away
They skip and step away just like a rock

Though, it is really goodbye this time
I know that all those memories remain
All I am saying is that this is my final curtain call
My friends are no longer my friends, but, a distant memory

Hey, we could be old together
If you loved my havoc-ridden mouth
Or my panic-stricken heart
With all your selfless love, without misgiving

The broken chromebird flew on 52nd
The solar kings and lunar queens played on the kingdom of heaven
My reign ended when I lost the clouds
As I stared into an abyss of forever whilst looking for summer

I never stopped giving in
To the demands of a friend
Because I couldn't give up on them

Cushier near
The pillion
In tatterdemalion
Uncomfortable
By the hitchhiking
hire
Laying fire to
The streets of admirers
Carrying a man in need
Expecting to be in a radio station
Before next week
It's gonna make really weak contention

The warmest feelings
Come from people
Who have felt the fire deeply
Or those who have been burnt badly
By being in love truly and madly

My shoes
Keep getting tougher
And the road's longer the more I run
In the end
I look to the skies
For the crimson
TO lift my highs
To show the lows of life
Shadowed by false belief
Rumbling stomachs
Remind how paltry people
Are afraid of the tempestuous thunderstorms
But their saints are washed away in the rain
Finding their waves in waters
Of the ones that are said
I love the element of the wind

Motions of course and change
Oceans through night and mighty gales
Sundance in the shade and pages of blue brocades
Alas! When time comes all the world shall be my world!
And you my manly page will fold your deck
Until we find light in dark
There will be only one boy in the stable
At least you'll be my final eternal reflection
I'll be the river of Stygian dreams where sorrow saddens
Where you seek destiny and lies
Ancient ruins still reside ruinous and timeless
Where a traveller once wandered the gardens
The borders of prosecutors and senators fully equipped
Grapes squashed by squalls, till the boy turns squalid
Can one take such agony in the mooned drapes
I gaze at her, almost mooning
I'll show you her futile dream of being boyish still
All the world's a world and the stage is set for the staged play
I'll show you soon, my love is better
******* is like playing except
It needs a stage and a spectacular performance

I'm willing to give you love
I'm willing to give you my time
I'm willing to give you my loveless terse glances
I'm willing to open my soul to you
Just don't fall in it
Heave and ** with the love and evil
Redact our love you's for jazz and ***
I'm falling for you again, I'm shaving again
But, how can I love a Teddy Bear warm as my ruler
If you have a supernatural father as my school breaking
Hiding your nameless face at school of science
Teach us, I'm willing to learn your way
Teach us about closing our eyes at night come
Afternoon, just open your heart once again
With a love immeasurable, knowing is enough for a wise man
Fall in it, it's useless to try and useful to take your time
Say, stay out of the groove if you can't handle the time and waste it like a confused passionate fool
Use the key to my unchained heart, instead

I have spent my entire life
Thinking myself to be someone
Yet, I am someone else
Within that pretense of life
I see some falsity, and many know what I see
As they see it themselves, in all its entirety
Like a ocean emptied out by nightfall
On the shore, where it covers all of it
The shells, mollusks, scales, grey bits of leaves
As a sudden wallowing mire screams from the tempest
Formed underneath the debris of wet sand and waters
Eternity washes away like a footprint
Much like a star wiped out by a black hole
With every passing hour of time
And with its passage, I lose some face
My friends turn to enemies, I wonder about my fate
As I curse myself for this false face
I have put up my entire life, much like still water

Let's dream up a sky
Let's brighten up the day
Let's dream of a thousand moons, instead of solitary stars

Some people lie
Some people tell truths
Some people in the future
Will never know the difference between the two

You'd never believe
When the TV lit
It showed me the stuff of the news
It showed me the caressing touch of your hair

Below the seams
Leaving a crack
I can see a way to your heart
Finding my way back

It's a misty-eyed story
A sad eye and a crazy quirky thing called innocence
Love seems lost
From those who wander away
From the reflection of an eternal soul
In her nature

The boughs break
Showing a route
Paved by fireflies
In a magical forest of twinkling lights
The winking elves tell me
I've found my life in a pile of dreams

Fear is the relief of
Being lost in the woods
When the canopy shines
Before the night arrives

Fear is the relief of
Being greeted by the sea
Welcomed by the breeze
As the storm subsides

When I lie awake at stark midnight
At night, I find relief
In the darkest reliefs of the mind
Where fear is a friend of the dark

Where the insane linger
They bite their nails
Twist the hair of their sagging *******
Soon, they will die and live at the same time

In another place and another time
They may be tossed papers of poems
If they exist or don't
It is just the same

Soon, they will breathe and be breathless
As the moon takes a vivacious scenery
Into azure skies and calls them midnight
The day will salvage the rest

The fear in their eyes
Will be calm as the lively sea
They shan't sigh
If they grow old, old, old as stone

The broken soul is rough around the edges
The broken mind is chained to the past
But, a broken heart is the worst
It avoids the future out of fear

But, how can one truly be happy
Without taking a risk
Or leaping without a safety net
Then, we have to be content with what we have

A broken heart, a broken soul, a broken mind makes a person bold enough
They at least tried

The simplest words
Make the best explanations
And the toughest paths
Lead to surreal destinations

While good things comes when you wait
Life rewards the greats
Seizing the fire, defying logic
It is a numbers game, you helped me hear the music

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

If I could be anyone
I would be a feather
That appears out of nowhere
But, so sure of it's destination
Regardless of the journey
Like a plastic bag moving with moxie
Strangers in the dark, night comes mysterious
Or an untouchable plaster ceiling in the Basilica among invisible realms
Or maybe even like Mozart's allegros played every so vividly
The quills tally the wind and scuttled through wind
Saddled the stirrups of God's horses of black gold
Petroleum queen, you'll never find these deities
With your golden hair, you let your visage show and guard down
Where the women come and go
And talk of Michaelangelo
If you're a friend I'll let you accompany me indeed
Our journey needs soldiers and serves the Queen of the Bastion
Or when you find the servant is your master
Or when you find angels have swords and ***** souls too
You'll fly on the heat and tides of time
Like a cotton flower do

It was your spirit
Your ambition
That tested the limit
Every stance held passionately

I will miss those eyes
Cutting through mine
In the air of smoke rings
You held me, words lingering

I still feel lighter
Thinking of you
But that's all one can really do
If I can no longer make you feel like a feather

If not for love
The breeze wouldn't
Have no swing
In lovers hearts
Accepting atmosphere
Formed within

Found treasure
In a feathered dove
Flying from sea to sea

I playing with
The idea
Of summer flings, before I knew a chick called
Destiny came along in the scenic winters, caressing the winds
My handles, and grips along the moonlit oceans
Tempered with anticipation, and precipitated with great
Transparency, I hope we find the same rock bottom
Or pulsate across the isthmus, undulating avidly under the
Shadows, across the reigning tides
Shadows, across the behind of the boats
Beckoning, to call you, 'gain in on this shadow
And a hand full of sand, and a head full of doubts
Like intelligent people full of doubts, and stupid people unknowing
I feel we might be on the right path or hope for love
Breathless, about our loveless lives, hearts take us for lightweights
This is the love-life of a feather-weight, caressing the winds...

I am bringin' to your sudden curious
******* your thumb
On your lap curled up into chemical lingering
Bad smells, and turn out your American flag again
I abuse the perfume and  press the bended knees
Time crept into my space
Hide in my skin, it wouldn't **** lose you
Time is going a bit too far, far, far
Flying like imagination, I stay
Exploring like coyotes and birds, bubbles in my blood oxygenating my soul
Noisome, we made flowers out of our hair and cut wires out of well-cared tools
Escaped the fire of killing many, saying we escaped as one

You have to scale the height
Don't stay at an edge of a plain sight
After a while when it is a lonely peak
Shout and you can hear your spirit in an open valley

Let us make our pleasures
Anew, our love will be fresher than
Air, it will fill space
Everyone will know
Love is in the air