You can be like*  Haiku  while--
everyone else is rhyming with

*Senryu.

Anger strikes up bad memories
even though it has been buried
years and centuries ago

all the good times
seem so blank in the back pages
like a trigger for deletion

oh this one time
sorry seems just passing by--
echoed the blind man.

Love*
is it a noun or a verb?









*an understatement.

Give me songs--










So I can hear you.

I saw the glimpse of your smile
while reading out my love
for I, calling on your warmth
before you, falling in, another love.

hooking up with melody and its content,
getting lost in my own imagination.

Song*  *it is.

This riverlike feeling never gets old.

Sometimes it feels like you're drowning in a middle of the road,
Sometimes it feels like it washes your dirt away,
Sometimes, swimming against the current is the only way.

she doesn't craving for his kiss
she doesn't yearning for his hug
she doesn't longing for his touch
she doesn't desiring for his caress
she doesn't aching for his stroking

literally

she doesn't longing for his miss
she doesn't desiring for his care
she doesn't craving for his honesty
she doesn't yearning for his sincerity
she doesn't aching for his "its killing me seeing you with anyone else but me" beauty*

now put the doesn't away
she wants him--
all

someone once said to me that
such agony in broken heart that
s/he equalized it with die alone that
in time it made me realize that
it must have hurt them such in pain that
no one could have not fathom what
they're in right now.




*such a valid tale.

I wonder where were you
since the last hey







dead,
could be.

Aşk Diye
It's a Turkish song
it's beautifully written
with such appealing letters
that slowly beat, drib drab
this shady shape heart
which echoed thru'
all these rearin'
veins.

youve clutched my arteries with your similes
i am sinking in deep in the ocean sea
though it's hard to breathe
breathe it anyway

Hold on, we are going home.

Wash all your dirts away,
paint new color to the newest you,
scrub them like 42-carat diamond into you,
and goodbye,
we're finally coming home.

Sometimes
once is longer than--
twice or thrice,

because you came and remains.