I swear this boy does not deserve my poems
He deserves something bigger
His might deserves to be known
He deserves sections in library's

And to be acknowledged by children
They need to be taught about the wars he created by the power in his step
They need to be taught about the chemistry of connection
Of how his atoms captured mine
They need to believe in the magic , the merge of cells that become one
They need to study the science behind love
and then ...
They need to realise that it's not comprehensible it's just magical.

Oh Life, why it seems to me
That it's not easy to play your game
Your ways are without precepts
Your methods hard to understand
At times you favor with us
Over our accomplishments and successes
While sometimes you make it seem worthless
At times of trouble, you condemn us
Desolate us in our solitude
While you also teach us the meaning of your existence
And also the value of others who truly mean
Funny how malleable your functions are
No culture has been able to define you better
Mysterious you forever have been and will be
Oh Life, I thank you for having chosen me
To be the Host for you to exist
For making me meaningful and worthy
And a person that will be remembered
By you in others...

Neville Philippe

if i could shout it from the treetops,
maybe i would.
would it do any good?
this
burning down of caverns
this
aching throb of injustice.
nonsense to distribute
that which is not allowed-
an unholy cloud disfigured.
but smiles fill their faces
silence covers mine.
still, time creeps.
crickets chirp.
chunks of ice freeze.

Pull me under
with you into the sea
hold me close as we sink,
and don't let go of me.
You're still my octopus.

It's a beautiful thing
When he begins to sing
He can have my heart
He can have anything
It's a beautiful thing
When he begins to sing
He can hold my heart
He can have all of me

I have become a disappointment to my self
filled with pride, afraid to ask for help

my addictions have grown beyond size
I am unsure if I can still rise

obstacles laugh at me
they invite me to a party of pity

I reject the invitation
for enough demons I am already facing

I can't write
Russian with this pen.
This pen is stingy with ink.
I have to re-trace
my strokes to make them shown.
It makes me re-think my stupidity
before I can make it permanent.