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killjoy Nov 2019
barebone and *******
we ride the bikes
on a windy night

no metal slate top
rest on our head
or rule our kind

barebone and *******
we ride the bikes
on a windy night

we own the roads
just as we dare
to own the world

barebone and *******
we ride the bikes
on a windy night

we sunbath under the
streetlights, our guide
as the city grinds

barebone and *******
we ride the bike
on a windy night

we pump our feet, swell
rolling uphills and-
down with the bills

barebone and *******
we ride the bikes
on a windy night
#biking #commuterlife #citylife #windy
killjoy Nov 2019
Ghosts are walking today.
Last night, misty rain fell upon the town.
On top of already soaking wet yellow leaves
that was plastered flat layer by layer-
like a yellow brick road. I walked on-
after work because biking was not an option-
in the wet air upon the wet road.
Where the road shone slick black,
Under the orange streetlight-
beneath the fading twilight, into the night.

Ghosts are marching today.
They pushed and shoved between the thin veil,
in forms of wind shrouded with orange decaying leaves.
They left dust trails, sidewalk cyclones, and-
Played mischief upon innocent walkers.
They crowded around and laid in wait,
until in groups they swamped and swayed.
As they passed by the disarrays,
with their fuzzy hats, thick coats and flying scarves,
they clutched their coat, just a little bit tighter-
and that’s enough I’m sure, to make deads smile.

Ghosts are parading today.
There was a halo behind the blanketing grey clouds-
that allowed a trickle of lights like diamonds fell into my eyes
and just for a moment in the corner of my eyes I saw:
a long crowd reflected by the golden light,
parading down the street, not caring for passing cars.
They carried a banner high up to the sky
and I squinted my eyes for a better look,
twisted my head back to catch another glimpse,
but with a blink of eyes, they were gone-
like the misty rain that fell last night.
killjoy May 2019
Having thin wrists
Ever so feminine,
sharp as knives,
slim as a needle.

I eat and eat and eat
But no fat ever gets stuck
on my thin wrists.
They stay thin in defiance.

A boy asked another boy
If he could break my thin wrists
He looks at it rationally-coldly.
It would just take a snap.

But my wrists made of bones
Composed of calcium,
Same component
As that boy’s wrist

To think, to phantom, to assume,
it would break so easily.
Takes my breath away
as I look at my thin wrists.
just some childhood memory I think back and wonder about it in my adult perspective
killjoy Jun 2018
Rains down.
On skin: black, white, yellow, and brown.
And all skins burn
Under the natural UV light.

Is something that is not so profound.
It exists in triangular lines of cells that are bound.
Mending and bending with tears and scars,
Over the muscles, tissues, and blood vessels alike.

Is something that is on the surface; mind you.
They tell you from the start that it’s the inside that counts,
With glitters and flowers and sticker stars,
That you are perfect no matter who you are.

Is the first thing pre-schoolers recognized.
One boy bluntly points out that this girl is
Dark and *****, different from the rest.
I grab the finger away from her eyes.

Is the first thing that teenagers find to name.
They call you ******, chinks, and a Terrorist.
They dress as you for Halloween in “good” jeers,
Never to understand the hurt behind and within.

Is the first thing that adults ask about.
They assume you are Chinese, Japanese, Aboriginal, Afri-
Firmly I interrupt to explain about ethnicity and nationality,
But they don’t care about who you are.

Is the first thing couples try to match.
Because people stare when black and white are holding hands.
Even I am guilty of such and curiously wish to ask,
How did they meet, fall in love and come about?

Is the first gossip in town.
It fills the news outlet with riots and protests,
With each claiming their right but backlash after backlash,
Just washes down the black mirror to static white.

Is the first thing I find myself noticing now.
In a fantastical resort in front of Dominican beach.
White privilege enjoys an all-around buffet while
Dark-toned staff work around the clock.

Knee deep in the surface skin.
People bury themselves in it and live.
But even insects and animals shed their skin.
So, why so much emphasis on the

I ain’t saying that being White makes you racist or rich.
I ain’t saying that being a coloured minority makes you a victim.
It’s just something I have noticed;
A problem so thin but keen in everyday

For equity, not equality
The needs exist. After all,  
Bleach skin with white sunscreen
Is always guaranteed.
killjoy Feb 2018
17 students passed away
In Florida
2018 looked ever so bright

But now I fear

It's every month occasion now
Should I predict that next school shooting
Will come by sometimes next month too?

I live in Canada

So maybe it shouldn't be relevant to me
But I'm so tired of being silent
So tired of same thing happening on the news

I was afraid that people would say

"That it had nothing to do with you,
Why don't you focus on your own problem,
You're all talk; just writing a poem here that doesn't even rhyme
What more can you do beside just adding fuel to




But I just have to point out the insanity

Because it seems like the most shooting are from
Students who were suffering too much
They couldn't seek help and instead turned to the guns

Where they sought horrid fantasy in torrents of reality

So, how can you give guns to the teachers
Who have once taught the same student?

Your telling the teacher
To shoot their own student
To protect other students.
How can you even consider such idea???

Did the world change so much that
Now teachers are also soldiers?

I was even more surprised that
Young adult and mentally ill
Could, could, could buy a gun

People aren't meant to ****** even in self defense
They get haunted by tragedy of their own choice
As flash of death and red goes in between their eyes
Despite living, they might as well have died

Nor do they need a gun in this peaceful age
Especially in a country where abundance of ideas,
Democracy and national pride is constantly praised
Thus why brew violence by providing the means?

So why are you not banning the guns dear oh politicians?
What is your reasoning behind the ratio of 70:30 vote?
Is it the money; how much are the gun company paying you?
What is going on in that White House that is no longer white?

OR is it truly for the freedom part of the constitution?
Even when people are dying?
Is having the right to own a gun, truly what it means to be free?
Doesn't our strength of choice at time like this...
Isn't that what freedom is about?
killjoy Feb 2018
compelling law shall compel
crimes against humanity to cease
but those crimes i shall not list
continue to brew in the mist
killjoy Jan 2018
i'm sorry
i really don't do romance
i'm so tired of listening to
same ole story just in
different variation and tone
but they are playing the same chorus
ya get what i mean right?
why do romance
when you are one?
someone answer my question
why is there so many
poems, stories, songs
about romance they have fallen into
but never romance they are themselves?
and in the end regretting
the love they were in
but love is you and me
no give and take i don't see
just don't beat each other for it
no need to steal it, you simply can't
it's there when i am there
and not when i am not
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