The smell of an old and cheap,
but priceless guitar,
the acrid and dry aftertaste of
beer, lingering
with a sour smell of
ink,
chances missed, and opportunities
lost,
in a mind of memory
where the air grows wet,
and the season
begins its change,
there are times like these
and others
that will be missed and
put upon when similar
elements meet,
the dance consumes our bodies
as our bodies
flay open to deteriorate
and regenerate the lives
after,
and we say,
"Today.
I will live today."

try not to become so distracted
or maybe
become a bit more

get lost in something, whatever it may be. it is healthy to be challenged intellectually every once in a while. push your limits. find something you've never thought twice about and pull all of the emptiness and boredom and anxiety and twist it into something beautiful. dissect it, examine it, create from it. always give yourself permission to feel. we know this already, that logic and thought sometimes refuse to mix, so separate the two and create something impossible. challenge yourself. everything in this life can find ways to shove you down, but how will you overcome by laying stagnant?

holding your ground is not bad, but remember the things that bring you joy. loosen up. hold onto other things. look ahead a bit more often. immerse yourself in life.

Astral architecture hangs on the balance of my once fragile mind, now unbound and open to the potential of the Penrose Stairs that I climb. Infinity, I thought, was an innate idea man was not meant to understand, because if the universe is in fact infinite, into what does it expand?

Standing at the precipice of epiphany, teetering at the very cusp of clarity, it came to me in a monumental moment of sibylline singularity:

It expands into itself.

The thought was too profound to perceive, too ravenous to be satiated. Could this be at long last, the answer for which I have waited?

I realized that consciousness operates under a similar uniformity: the brain won't outgrow the head, but the mind will outgrow the body, and our echoes will radiate across the endlessness of existence, for all our forgotten frequencies are oblivious to the concept of distance.

We are all limitless beneath the veil of this perceived reality,
but only there are we human, and only then are we free.

I log into my blogger,
I look at all the poems that I've ever written,
On my phone, on my math book during class, or scribbled in a hurry.
I search for the perfect one I can give,
To get a message back from Hello Poetry.

The first one I see is the one I wrote for my brother,
He left last year, I miss that fella,
I hope college is nice to him.

The next one is about the season ending, stars and constellations, and career choices,
I wonder what I was thinking while writing it,
No wonder my mum thinks I have ADHD.

The third one is a poem called 'maybe',
I remember when one of my best friends said she loved it,
I remember that that was the first time I showed my poems to her,
I was so happy.

As I see the fourth one,
I think this is stupid.
All these poems are old now,
I don't want to give these.

I spend a few minutes thinking what I should do,
I think and think,
I wonder what they'll like.
I wonder if the person who reads this poem,
Is a girl or a guy.

I continue thinking,
Rest thoughts aside.
Suddenly I realise,
Oh yeah, I can write.

I have wasted
too many years
of my young life
wishing I had been
blessed with
a different story.
I am learning
that all life
is precious,
and that each soul
that walks this earth,
is a mere breath,
a simple expression,
of the interwoven
fabric of our universe.
We are each
a ripple in time,
and our aura
radiates energy
that travels faster
than the speed of light.
We are divine beings.
When we possess
this knowledge,
we breach
the edge of certainty,
and begin to understand
that we hold the key
to our everlasting divinity.

I would put three sets of leaves;
a bud, one green and one brown.
To show our world has seasons
That perpetually go around.

I would put in an expensive watch
To show that time is precious,
And so that when it stops working
They'll know that time is not endless.

I would put in the Sacred Texts,
To show that man has a Spirit
But I would add in a strict warning
That they should not abuse it.

I would put in a massive blanket,
Made from fabrics across countries in Africa
To show that diversity is the spice of life
And our world is beautiful because it has colour.

I would put in some earth wrapped in gold
And water in a bottle of pure silver.
To show that the true treasures of our planet
Are the grasslands and the valleys, the deserts, the rivers.

I would put in the West African Drum
To show that inside every person,
Lies an ever beating heart
That dances to life's rhythm.