///

Everything is separated from each other
But when you see silently
It seems all together
The day sleeps in the night as I exist in you

The born,
The death all for thee
Black or white
True or false all for thee

The continents are separated, isolated
As we are alienated from each other
But on the other hand we are all together
Apparently we are  moving toward the different direction

The dark,
The light all for thee
Silence or thunder
Melody or chaos all for thee

Either it’s a stone or an emotion
Even either love or hate,
Neither war nor peace
Neither dialectics nor mystic
All  have bent you and me

There are too many invisible divine strings
On every matter or even every non matter
yet bonded with the heaven and the hell
So, all we move toward the same destination

///
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

I'm like a pill,
Because if you swallow my well-being,
You will be relieved of your worries, sicknesses, and ailments,
But too much of anything isn't beneficial for any of us,

And too much of me
Could leave your tongue escaping from your mouth,
And the irises of your eyes attempting to meet your brain,
Which is why you should take me
Within considerate reason,
And not take me for granted.

Swallow me whole,
Wash away your pride,
Feelings of me running deep inside you.
I swallow you,
I swallow you whole,
I swallow you down.

You are the perfect pill for my ills.
I can see the comely contents of your character
Labeled on a container,
And as soon as it becomes empty,
You will see me rushing
To get a refill of your grace.

Ever since you were prescribed to me on May 13th,
I've never listened to my doctors
Who assume to know
What is best for me.

I consume that dear, special, deep word
Like a space cadet of an overdose.

I need you within my reach,
I need your relief,
I need your reassurance,
I need you to care..

But what I need the most of from you,
Is your affection.

Originally written 7/2/11
Revised 10/15/14

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

So I'm just sitting down
Beside a stranger
Playing his guitar beautifully,
Meditating on the idea of how we
As human beings can only go so far.

As far as you can go
Exceeds as far as you can see.

I'm physically near-sighted.
I'm not sure if it's because of that long ago accident
When a tsunami of gasoline soaked my eyes,
But everything far is a water color blur to me,
Is it in fact the same for you?


There are addicts on the curb,
Abandoned dogs without a home.
How did they get there?
I can guess and assume,
Without the slightest clue.

I'm as anxious as an alcoholic
In a state of withdrawal.
Did I fall from Heaven like Lucifer?

Slightly overweight
Then slightly anorexic.
I've thought of less lately,
Less of fate.

Struggled with labels,
"That kid is anti-social."

As soon as
Words *** like fertile *****,
You regret the consequence's backlash.

Why am I even bringing up **** from the past?
  Don't get me wrong,
My story is not a complete sob story.

Anything I hold back,
I will admit and confess and address,
Always.

Originally written 2/4/11
Revised 10/15/14

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

My familiar stranger,
My anonymous neighbor,

Who knows of your face?
Who knows "YOU" in general?
Who pays you any attention?
Who ever listens to you?
And are you ever mentioned for more than one second?
Or even at all?

Amnesia so soon,
Amnesia now,
Dementia much later.
Dementia much, much later.
Do you remember now?
Will you remember later?

Just an Emily Dickinson.

Originally written 3/24/11
Revised 10/15/14

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

Names are rendered superfluous,
And will never justify existence.
Life is only a moment's glance.

You're not supposed to stare directly at the sun
You're not supposed to stare directly at the sun
You're not supposed to stare directly at the sun
You're not supposed to stare directly at the sun
You're not supposed to stare directly at the sun,
But I already have.

The light is
Far too bright,
And I have
Abandoned sleep.




Originally written 4/11/11
Revised 10/15/14
Revised 12/4/16
Revised 7/16/17




2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

Incognizant of the excrement,
I'm the dozing tenant of advertised adversity.
I ignore the fact that the world now is like a toilet,
And I avoid it, I avoid it, I avoid it.

Boy, did you get exploited?
How could we know we're
No more than numerical exponents?
Can consolation prizes console him?
We're not aware of the ventriloquists
Or their true motives.

Popular perfume conceals
The stench from the load of,
Finite excrement that
The suited men sold us.
They told us that it would be beneficial,
Not an imposition on our self-image,
Pinocchio before he found
Out he was artificial.
Is the American Dream a reality?
Why did I hear a dissenter
Say it was superficial?

We must have missed something,
We see no issues.
Meanwhile, my Uncle Sam designated
You as the mental missile.


Originally written 5/25/11
Revised 10/15/14

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith