is an act
- nicholas, the poet.
when my ancestors told me
that life always
hangs in the balance
I never imagined
that what my soul
was hanging from.
am I an outstretched arm
waiting to be pulled?
or is a
tied around my bodiless neck?
constantly grasping for breath,
always in the shadow of death.
written in ashes
are a stain
I once was.
- nicholas, the poet.
the words on a page from which you read
relay that sense of melancholy
that facts are facts and that’s all they may be
until you follow one family.
evicted from their home and all they know.
thrown into the ring for Nazis to show.
and all this time, the whole world will grow
while on the inside, dead bodies is all they throw
into the holes where they’re laid to rest.
children and women who gave it their best
to save their families from the unrest,
from the flames those dead bodies would later invest.
we always say to walk a mile
in the shoes of others so that we can compile
a list from our minds which becomes hostile
and our souls become so full of revile
that sympathy isn't a word to express
the games they played - survivors chess -
to keep them alive as death will caress
the souls with which the reaper will address,
“pack your bags and say adieu
to this world which was all you knew.”
embrace those emotions of the person you pursue
for these are things no mere facts can tell you.
- n, t. p.
we hold on to dear life
to the thoughts we don't wan to lose.
we grasp on to our ideals
and our stubborn points of view.
we believe we are so deep
when all we see is superficial.
we feel as if we know ourselves
but is all we are, artificial?
we create who we are
from the fragments left behind.
from the thoughts of saints, prophets,
and holy men of all kind.
we forget that we are mortal,
only here for a little.
from birth we start to learn
to the time when we are brittle.
but of what we have learned,
how much do we know?
after all this time, we gained so much,
but did we really grow?
we focused on the differences
and that has left its scars.
but sometimes you need to **** the sun
in order to see the stars.
but do not fret my friends,
do not be perplexed!
because when we die,
and give all from inside,
we will always give life to the next.
we are one.
to take a concept and to strip it naked,
and to make love with the emotion,
to caress the bare skin of the philosophical mind,
with such passion, such intimacy
surrounds these actions and encompasses the performance.
mental ***, the prostitution of my conscienceness
to the worlds of thought and idealism.
I give my mind, liberation,
freedom to think,
to believe and understand.
our world, which is meant for us to live and create,
and to express and embrace that psychological intimacy.
that eroticism that a thinker senses,
the ecstacy of the mind is what we strive
to find, and to feel.
this is how we know.
Ice cold hands, fire warm heart
oh my dear, I never thought we'd part
like this, oh ****, where did you go?
I thought we only just begun the show!
Knife fights and fist fights, the whole nine yards
the tent is hung and the choirs have sung
I fought so **** hard
up on a noose my emotionas are hung
Welcome to the Carnival!
where you come to **** your thoughts
and all this time I hoped to see
some amazing theatricality
yet you left, with my heart in your chest
I couldn't imagine it would end like this
I came with such a heart of gold
now empty space is all i have to hold
the tables have turned, can you see the burns?
the pieces of heart, left broken on the floor?
oh magic man, show me a trick
a distraction take me away
in this place, I cant stay
the claws on my skin and bones
I dont want this anymore