The Intensity of human complexity is the simplest of all

As
Boundaries
Create
Distance
Egos
Fluctuate,
Giving
Hollow
Insec­urities
Justification,
Killing
Likely
Manifestations,
Nullifying
­Our
Purest
Qualities,
Reducing
Satisfactions
That
Usually
Vary,
W­elcoming
Xenial
Yin-yang
Zealously

Five green and speckled frogs sat on a speckled log.
They tell you one jumped,
But he didn’t—
He died.
And when he died,
The other four looked up into the clouds,
With heavy hearts.
And though they willed the drops to fall,
The clouds were empty.
What would the others say?
They thought.
So one after another, those green and speckled frogs…
Died.
One by one they left their fellow frogs
To battle with the empty skies,
Till only one was left—
All alone.
He saw the empty log,
And he suddenly felt so small
In a world that felt so big.
And then…
Then the skies opened up,
And it poured.

POETRY*

It's never easy
to write poetry
as assumed by many
often a poem is a mystery

where's the poetic- river source?
how many miles must its waters cross?
the poet finds himself only
at the river-end where springs his best poetry.

the tangibility of fallibility
is met between the coincidence
and insatiability of adversity,
the blissfulness of satisfaction
is met between the constant refraction
and abstraction of our instability,
distancing perceptions bound by
our misinterpreted misconceptions ,
take the contradictions of our minds
and use them as receipted expectations,
blinded by darkness for illumination
idyllically thriving on the absence of starvation
but the the realism of disdained relation put us
in a position of contempt fixation,
placement of a pedestal beneath my feet
misdirected direction towards a forked defeat,
a way to pain and a way to pleasure,
the destination of each concluded at cloudy weather,
atmospheric conditions leave injunctions towards
the ****** functions to deviate and meditate
the conflicted constant of mind and heart
and diverge from its obliged obligation from the start,
a denouncement expected right from inception
brought afloat a constant instance of introspection,
intrinsic emotions distorted at a love’s devotion
sparks a metaphysical claim towards a complex notion
of companionship and intensified intimacy;
an expectant of reciprocated sympathy
but when in reality, the thought of apathy
lies not within the partner,
but within me

Sometimes you have to chip and hack
granite words from granite rock.
The sounds of your chisel echoing loud
down the valleys of poetries mountains.

i should really
quit smoking you,
i’m ignorant
no more,
ashtray’s
fill faster
than my lungs,
quietly whispering
tip toes provoke
the screams of
hardwood
every night
at around 1 o’clock,
making way
to attempt quiet
openings of
neglecting doors,
sitting amidst the
tranquility as
the ******
fissure eats
the dancing smoke
while she
paints abstracts
on teeth
tongue
lungs
heart
and the
cognitive inability
to separate
index from middle
comes not from
ignorance
but from how
she holds me
tighter than anyone,
touches my lips
more compliantly  
than any woman,
she will never leave me
even as i take her
top off and
share breaths,
her touch is
recognizable
most nocturnally,
i know the damage
she does to me
she’ll cut my life in half,
she’s the only thing
i will let in that will
**** me,
she moulds
leisure and pleasure
as if i wear them on
my back,
her body is
pale as my fingers
drip down
and feel
as i exhume
her insides
intertwining
with mine,
listening to your
cries as i inhale
provokes me to
do so more
and more
and more
until i leave you
for the night,

i should
indeed quit
smoking cigarettes
as well