It's hard comparing yourself to the world.
It makes you realize how different you are
but it doesn't make you feel special.

It all depends upon what you see, though,
when you look at how you are
strange
compared to people you know,
strange
compared to what you're supposed to be,
strange
compared to those who are, to you, just the stereotype.

It's unfair is what it is,
or what it seems.
Because you see
your sufferings,
sufferings that you get despite the
strange goodness inside of you.
When the stereotype is far worse then you,
far, far worse,
but you feel the punishment
inside and out
for the small, harmless mistakes you've made
and they don't have to put up with any of it.

unfair
Unfair. Unfair! UNFAIR!
It's so UNFAIR!
What's even the point of being good?

But then you look into their eyes
and wonder if they even see your suffering
because they are too blinded by their problems
and you, by yours.

So who has it worse?
Good or bad?
And what about evil?

Is this just life?

When you're happy?
And it shows.
And they aware of the reason.
Then everybody's want your lover.

Oh, they cut you down to impress themselves upon them.
They say, what they can do?
And reasons, you should leave them.

Yes, everybody's want your woman.
Yes, everybody's want your man.

Good things attracts others.
Especially when they have a sad lover.

A happy home can't be broken.
When their love has been spoken.
To them, I am pledged.
So don't expect me to go anywhere.

Slap me across the face. Punch me in the gut. Cut me open, tear me apart.

Rip the skin from off my flesh. Turn my blood into a work of art.

But please. Oh, please..

Don't break my heart.

In shortening she made me jam roly poly
a Jezebel in a grand fully furnished way aglow
with bold basement statements broad brushed full on
to glaze the way to a plum job whole storey mission
proclaiming sofas as soft as any humble pin cushion
stuffed with unfinished symphonies in a mansion
booming out to empire builders' biggest guns
tended by harems of belly dancing bumble bees
burbling alongside a myriad of louder hues
flowing into bouffant hairstyle shrubs brushed
and blow dried into blooming privacy bushes


but outside she transformed
yet served by outsize platters
prolific with blazing seasonings
glazed with enough sweets
to satisfy a pudding feast
laid before a sumptuous appetite
comforting peahens with broad beans
ripened beside horizons of warm salads
dressed by blooming strawberries
pores plumped up from ladles
dunked deep as finger buns
into sloppy icing barrels
awash with hoarded nuts
of sweet toothed squirrels
engorged to dozing on branch barges
full to the gunnels and slow wallowing
in troughs laden with fatted chugs
rambling across rolling oceans awash
with tranquil rafts of whales nibbling
each morning on shoals expanding
beyond shallows into deep new ports
to offload uncontainable cargo
swung low on sweeping vista nets
dragging tree trunks packed like Jumbo
to land with a thump in wide sided carts


splashing and rocking slowly on their ways
until mopped up by richly saturated bales
of overgrown Danish butter grass pats
resplendent amidst dollops of luscious
double churned cream gateaux farm gates
open for cuddling golden syrup spoons of heat
spreading mellowness deep into the sponge
of unfolded meadows with encyclopedic knowledge
accumulated into increased volumes of decisive “belle”
resounding excitedly across the hills of plenty


chirrups bumping cheekiness into narrow valleys
to settle hawk eyes wide open to opportunities
accumulating it all in seam stretched sack boasts
of the good life storehoused bigger than most
but ready to collect and offload refreshment
like the slow but steady wobbling airships
stretched out resplendent across hay loft skies
fluffed up between a sweating Queen bed cumulus
keen to bounce into cloudless heady ensembles
swung high over thigh slapping oompah band hills


in a tug-of-war snapping heartstring restraint
and low frequency waves of contentment
she apportioned herself and me in generosity
celebrating a fully stocked love stacked larder
sweet with chock-a-block huffs and puffs
and then glad sighs of expansive success
in relief a schmooze diorama all she was after
Summer's glorious bamboozled ardour

hold me down for real
catch my eyes the way you
catched the morning light
say those three words
and come run forever with me
let's dance on the white balcony
or lay down on the sleepless dusty road
and watch as the moon breathe
let's sing along our favorite song and kiss
beneath all the city lights at 3 am
come on
hold me down for real
and i'll be yours forever.

my love has been held behind
the iron bars of all my pain
such a sentence for a poet
  i have heard of true love,
and yet
the emptiness of my soul
finds contentment looking out
into such a place
i will light a candle tonight
one candle
and try to remember who or what i
murdered along the way

Trampling green grasses under bare feet
Paths once crossed have since disappeared
Over barbed wire fences and across murky streams
The sun glares through cracks in the canopy
Time has yet to take hold in the wilderness
Humans have not brought destruction here