Our maths teacher wasn’t amused.

He solved hard problems for us
taught sincerely in the class
but the moment he held the pen
sweats would flood his palm
like a nagging rain
that his army of handkerchief
couldn’t bring any relief
with the dripping moisture
like a school of sharks
devoured our paper’s ink marks
and from the workouts already done
steps were wiped out one by one.

At those times he wouldn’t speak
only looked at us apologetic
burdened as if with guilt’s weight
for the treachery of his ceaseless sweat
that forced him to desist from anymore writing
close his pen and start dictating.

Then one day we saw him bring out a cream
his agony had reached such an extreme
with that he rubbed his palms with glee
looked he had solved a great mystery
said now this would lock all the doors
stop sweat’s pour through skin’s pores.

Just me and him...
Having a conversation in the quiet of night.
Just me and him...
Baring honesty with no restrictions, no fright.

I tell him,
"Why must it always rain on me?"
I confide in him,
"Why do I feel what others don't see?"

Momentary silence...

And then he says,
"It doesn't always rain...
Sometimes you are sheltered.
You feel too much.
Over things that shouldn't have mattered."

Pause...

I am a child, fighting my case.
"If I don't, who then will choose to care?
Who then will toil for days to come?
I'm exhausted now...
And it's not fair."

He chides me in an instant.
"It was your choice to take on this role.
It was a decision made freely.
If you're looking a direction in which to point,
point to a mirror and you'll see the reason why it's taking a toll."

I gasp in faux disbelief
for I know it is true.
I've known all along
that it's me, not you.

I hesitate...
And then I reply...

*"Oh shut up!"

above the naked sea,
the wind’s blue
castles
raise their
drawbridges
of air.

Take the words
out from my mouth
please chew them well,
don't spit them out
Swallow them
deep into your throat
let them circulate,
let them float
into your mind,
into your heart
with my words
         inside you,
we'll never part
        and if
the time comes
that you should speak
in sharp punctuation
across my cheek
know that I might,
for a second,
hold my tongue
before it unfurls
   and becomes undone
it might lash out
in a burning sting
from the shock of
             the lexicon
that fervor brings
but then rage will
melt upon our lips
in satin threads
                 of fire
that burn their tips
and no temporary storm
will declare our pain
in language sacred,
and then
               profane
I'd rather bind
my lips to yours
let the waves rise up
           on speech's shores
let the tides of
forgiveness
spill out in phrases
as the moon whispers
bliss in hidden phases
and we'll forget our
periods and commas
and grammatical structures
as polished vernacular
      turns to animal lustre
as we slide to the floor
verbal cannons unfired,
                             unheard
finally at
     a loss for
             words

-

The worst things always happen
When things are looking up.

Yet shall I praise Jesus!
He is not at fault.

I'm going to praise God in the
Midst of trials.

Some trials are of water.
Some of fire. All end.

Love is always a gamble...
There's a lot of feelings at stake...

We play our cards,
hoping the outcome will be right...

It might be my best hand,
but I'm scared and might fold..

Wanting to win her love,
you take a gamble....

The eyes that are on you,
hope things aren't right...

Is this your last chance,
or do u play to the end...

So I write about my though life
Give the strike and pad gripe

So right is right a rewrite
So wrong that wrong is Right

But Armageddon will fight
And ignite the Force flight

The tank and rank politely
Hold the trigger tightly

Raining hard Thunder lightly
Then the Illuminati mighty

All powerful bush Al gore Kennedy
And natzii hover and **** telelepethy

I cause he'll diminishing
Deman and Angel thing

A d