I listen to the endless cries of cats at night
Lonely and helpless,
Abandoned and forgotten
Living in a narrow, deserted alleyway.
I’ve left cans of food for them,
But that’s not what they want
They want love
To feel protected and sheltered
By the sheer warmth of compassion
Some may want to be reunited with their mothers
Or from their owners’.
No matter how many times these poor animals were left out in the cold
Or met with the scorching rays of the sun
We’ve neglected them to the point where
Anything better than what they have right now will suffice.
The next time I hear their cries
I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt
Part of me wants to take every one of them out of their miserable lives
But some of these cats had lives
Some of us overlooked that
Walked right pass a cat that belonged to someone who didn’t want them anymore
Threw them out like the piles of trash
In the alleyway.

Frantically looking around,
I start to realize
I am alone
I am with me
And only me
No one else around
To cover my eyes from the destruction
Of myself
Of what I make of life
Of what I continue to question
Overthinking is a burden for me
From time to time,
I treat overthinking as a reward system
Slowly giving parts of myself
To something that does not co-exist.
I mean,
What is time?
Why is it always ticking?
Why are we trapped in ourselves?
Is there a way out of this madness of something called a world?
Filled with pitiful human beings
We call ourselves
By names
Constantly labeling ourselves and others
I guess that’s what school has taught us
And that’s all of what early life is
Anyways,
I guess what I am saying is that seas can drown us out
Our mind can play tricks on our physical bodies
Making us feel things that aren’t real
Making us feel things for people who were never real
Or never close to what we’ve made them out to be.
Life is a rope
We’ve got to keep tugging at it
It is the only way we can see
If there is truly a way out
Or if what lies ahead
Is nothing short of millions of miles of distance
From a shore that is close to nothing
Is made up of
A black hole
Or maybe an abyss
A yearning
To see what’s at shore
We must continue searching
And never stopping, for anyone
For anything
What lays ahead.
What lays ahead?

They may never know
How you came into our lives
So effortlessly
When we needed
Something desperately
They may never know
How hurt she was before you
Healing her with your superpowers
Can’t tell you how do it
Make everything so well
They may never know
How some people come into our lives to leave
But you stayed.
Till this day
I can’t figure out
Why you did
You were given every chance
But it was like
Every time we broke you down
From the inside out
You still cared for us
They may never know
The pain hidden behind
The curtains that shadowed
Demons that exercised our bad intentions of you
Buried behind piles of lies
And excuses
Lay our meaningless lives
That is unfortunately what they may never know.

Your presence
Sends shutters down my spine,
An indescribable feeling
Made of fear and confusing pain.
An overwhelming feeling
Wanting to scream and shout



Help,
Help.

what gets you through
will always pull you out
no matter how hard
it feels
what gets you through
will always pave a way
for you
what gets you through
will always be there
for you
for what you feel
and for what you are.

You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to **** you.
You died before I had time ----
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off the beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My ****** friend

Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine,
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You ----

Not God but a *******
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the *****.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.

If I've killed one man, I've killed two ----
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagersnever liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you *******, I'm through.