Organic has touch,
Metal outlasts.
Organic has sound,
Metal just echoes.
Organic has cushion,
For emotions within.
Metal stays strong,
Can take the toughest hits.

Organic has taste,
Depending what it ate.
Metal vibrates,
To try to imitate.
Organic has colors,
Metal has paint.
Organic forgets,
Metal just waits.

Organic fades,
Metal floats in gray.
Organic needs air,
To sustain health.
But Metal stays,
Right near our chests.
Organic craves,
As Metal engraves.

Organic understands,
Metal just learns.
Organic has a name,
Metal has a brand.
But for some reason,
Found more in our hands.
Keep organic close,
And to metal stand.

as much as I crave warmth
I can't when
my veiws of the world
are much so
indifferent.

The impatient soul awaits.
As crowds push towards the train.
He rushes to pass, can’t be late.
He looked at others, the insane.

He squeezed against and did shove.
They looked at him, silent grunts.
His angry mood, bared no love.
He was used to his way and wants.

One more push and catapults.
Into the air and did not fall.
He laughs at them, at their faults.
As he flies pass human walls.

Surprised, he got no attention.
He roared at them, till the last door.
His super power, that strengthened.
No longer waiting, he could soar.

Everyone looked to the left.
Train now expected delays.
Some tears were dropped as they wept.
A red end to someone’s day.

He flew back in that direction.
A sudden feeling, temptation.
There caught in the intersection.
His body, the impatient.

My friend failed the appointment
and I had this man beside me
with untimely heavy woolen
peering into the condensed haze
of that October evening.

Being alone is scary,
the hoarse voice melted the silence
and being alive sometimes scarier
than not being,

he paused as if
the words had drained him

when you hope it the most
and none turns up
to feel and fill you.

The fog had almost devoured the halogen
leaving me only with the voice.

It's uneasy, I spoke at last,
isn't it weird to be talking
without being seen?

Not in the least,
his laughter rattled the slumberous air
the world long turned away its face
from the face beside you.

While he's away, find a friend.
While he's away, find a place.
While he's away, find yourself.

While he's away, be okay.
While he's away, be thankful.
While he's away, be you.

He's not coming back.
Give thanks for that.

What if life was played in fast forward?
Would you look more, out the window?
See the buildings, the missing trees?
The colors changed, painted in steel?
Focus on folds, beneath your cheeks?
Spend time with the once, called lonely?

What if life was played in reverse?
Would you redo things, differently?
Experience reality?
Change your lack of identity?
Free your mind of not feeling free?
Rethink responsibilities?

What if life was paused?
Would you be doing, what you are doing right now?
What is the first thing that comes to mind?
What about the colors on your brush?
Do you think that they are enough?
Are you still on the right track?

What if life had to be lonely?
Would you use your voice to speak?
Is there a reason to listen?
What rules would you want to create?
Would you understand heartbreak?
Would you bother to hit replay?

Either way we all reach the end.
But we write separate screenplays.
Decide our fate and how we blend.
And how we fast forward our days.

Hopefully we are not the same.
Get to use our voice and listen.
To lose ourselves would be a shame.
Or to move forward, not driven.

Remember, your life is in play.
And should not be thrown away.

Sunday Morning ******
My soul has been ****** dry,
due to the rising body temperature,
This drove me to speak in tongues

I close my eyes and I drift deep into a bed of jelly
as my heart called out his name,

My body became lifeless like emoji expressions
my new morning love of language
and we become one with our feelings

About my love life ?
I read the same
book, over and over..
Having a shelf full of
them at my every
reach.. That should
tell you everything
you need to know
about the way I love..

*Sandoval

There is a story to tell.
I met a person.
There is much to tell.
Choked up emotions.

The person listens.
Reads my stories too.
Not only the intro,
but the whole thing through.

Tells me I am great,
when I know the truth.
This has to be fate.
Because it soothes.

Positive and,
Appreciates.
Hard work, effort.
Invigorates.

The person fills,
me with words.
When I am lost,
and I am slurred.

Hair so curly,
Maybe straight.
Not sure, did
not speculate.

Eyes brown,
maybe blue.
Come to think of it,
it is you.