the shirt, unbuttoned;
the V cuts deep enough for -
U to C me bare.

don’t think you’ll get away with this!
you pushed an innocent soul into the abyss.
‘sacrilege’, i say -
what a terrible way…
to enslave a wounded angel;
pluck away at its shrewd feathers;
torture it for wits;
and for what?
some cheeky wordplay?  

how could you!
how dare you watch it bleed -  
through the trappings of your greed.
have you no pity?
have you no mercy?
are you so bereft of compassion,
that you’d go so far as to maim a messenger of God,
just to have what you need?

let it out, i say!
let it free.
none of this is fair,
i know… i agree!
but you never had the right -
to steal the light:
from a spirit so bright,
in the stillness of the night.  

it’ll all be forgotten,
should you accept the blame.
perhaps, find a piece of rock to maim.
not a soul so benign,
even in such misery it prays -  
‘forgive him for his sins, my Lord,
for i have done the same.’

he lost his way, he knows not when.
chasing false idols he mistook for men.
he'd lose the child, if he only knew then -
he'd find a way to be a man again.

a petal wafts through the fields;
as though a cradle for the morning dew
forged by winter’s labour.

the flower remains anonymous.

i snort the pillow;
lick shampoo off her hair strands;
she’s on to witchcraft.

there’s enough anger in one man
to put even the Gods to shame;
it speaks to him in
mournful moments, when -
the shadow of doubt clouds  
his acumen, and his candour
reigns far too long.

he sleeps with it;
dreams of it;
and once it has
invaded his subconscious,
he revels in it --
it makes him feel powerful,
and hungry for a scam
that disguises itself as a reward.

belittled by his own words,
he seeks refuge in others
who share his wrath -
for they are everywhere:
they help him carve his words
into a dagger of insecurity,
with which he stabs those
who tried to offer him
an antonym for violence;

the blood he draws shall
dye his conscience -
evil red.

write a verse,
write a song,
write it with the chillum, on a ****.
write slow, write fast -
write with an ******* while it lasts.
write for the right reasons, and the wrong ones too:
write because it matters to you.
write like a man, write like a woman -
write despite their contempt, unforgiven.
write on the walls,
of the times you recall -
when you felt small,
or when you’d fall.
write your heart out!
write your ***** out! -
and don’t you ever doubt -    
wheather it’ll work out,
or choke your bank account.
write, if not for anything -
for the hope that still lies within;
just write, do not ask why!
if you must know -
write because you’d rather die.

write, my friend -
write.

your smile confounds:
how it opens at my touch
yet, closes softly,
like a snare that traps my defiance;

                            - keeps me modest.

i adore how your lower lip spasms with desire,
while your upper lip struggles to hide it.
i know there’s more to your smile,
for i have kissed you -
with an undying thirst
that respawns at the close of day.

i’ll forever be in awe -
of the benevolence you summon
with your subtleties;

                          - keeps me honest.

i long for your smile;
i long for your love;
i long for another day -
with you.

hello?
you there…?
i can’t hear you!
we haven’t talked in a while, it’s true.
thought i’d remind you - the rent is due.
maybe… have a shower, or two?

i wanted to -
let you -
know that i haven’t given up on you.
though i’ll admit, it took a lot of work -
to finally get through to you.

it was brave what you did,
and stupid at the same time;
thinking you could make the climb,
holding on to your gratuitous rhymes.

it takes a while to see what's wrong
with all the ways you've known all along;
it never hurts to take a little detour -
ask for help, when you're not too sure.

don’t be too ******* yourself,
take it easy.
not everyone will see, or get,
what you see.
move around -
pick up a book -
or better, a blank page.
let your purpose take the center stage.

just one thing before i go,
perhaps, it’s good to let a few things go.  
anyway,
thought you could use some counseling.
come to think of it,
were you even listening?
hello?
you there…?

always offered help,
never realizing that
i needed it most.