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Hadiy Syakir Feb 2017
Every time
I look at you
I know it is
the worst ever
feeling to have
in this world.
It is worse than
having a tyre
punctured on
the road
in the middle of nowhere
and being kicked
out from the boat
in the middle of nowhere
you are stuck
in a glass box
you did not
built it
and someone else
who thinks
they are superior
built it for you.
I wish I could
hug you
kiss you
and bring
you somewhere
without further
All you can wish
is just to be free
not just another
It is better to be dead
on a natural cause
than being stuck
in somewhere and
feeling lost

Feline oh my feline.
Nothing wins, nothing ever wins.
Hadiy Syakir Feb 2017
With money
you are happy
with money
you will act silly
with money
you will not be lonely
with money
you do not need this body
with money
you can always be free
with money
you don't want to be
anything that you can be.
with money
nothing is left for you to see.
but with money
you cannot buy the empathy
and with money
you cannot buy
your sanity.
Hadiy Syakir Jan 2017
It is not impossible
to find joy in pain
when things are
getting sensible
for all of us
to feed a ploy
that will always
play and return
to the initial point
over and over

Tell me
who does not
ever feel
joy in pain?
a veterinary
a mail carrier
a sous chef
a sommelier
a taco vendor
a groundsman
a pilates trainer
a football quarterback
a fast food chain worker
a ship captain in Somalia
they all have tasted
the wine of delight
while they have been
wounded severely
every single day
when they woke up
in the morning
from Monday to Sunday.

As for me
I’d rather
blow away my mind
by blowing
few rolls full of life
before I take
the paper
and detach
the pen cap
from its body
to start writing again.
PeatrJay Jun 2014
Hanging from this tree branch with one arm.
At a height high enough that would hurt a fair bit if I let go.

I'm struck by the weight of my own body.

I'm so tangible... so breakable...

small and weak,
yet tall and strong. I can be anything.

If I weren't here, this tree still would be. Magnificent as nature itself. Yet it's glad I came by this afternoon, this I know.

I stare at the bark, and it seems to pry past my eyes and into my soul, saying "yes, this is real."

I am real.

And I'm so pleased to be so.
climbing trees high on mushrooms.
gwen Apr 2015
if you asked me to write about something -
the stars, sadness, darkness, death.
i could. and i would.
i would give it to you, clad in astroids for armor,
star-spangled, criss-crossing in between sunbeams and rainbows.
i would give it to you as a wilted flower on a plate,
colorless save for the red of the rotting apple -
the surrealist dream, the existentialist crisis
of oblivion and everything in between.

ask me to write about what i'm feeling now,
ask me to write about my emotions, my thoughts.
i can't.
for i know my thoughts are as different from yours
as a solar eclipse in the andromeda galaxy,
as hope in my vacuum heart.

and that's just the thing.
my "red" will never be the same as your "red",
my "night never the same as your "night".
and my words, are far from adequate
in telling you what i think
of me,
of you,
of us,
of the world.
it is a fundamentalist problem,
a human flaw,
an error in communication,
an inherent imperfection,
a fatalistic trait,
a damning hamartia
that we as humans
will never overcome.
words are powerful,
pictures are more so,
touch just can't be surpassed.
but none will never be enough
to address everything that is as it is,
everything in our heads,

we are all alone in this world.
do you think that baby birds
when falling from their nests
know exactly what's happening?
is the fall longer for them
since their lives have been so short?
so long that when they close their eyes
they can see a human life
from start to finish?
we are all living in the time it takes
peaking little robins
to become food for the ants
no actual idea what the **** this one is. i just like it

— The End —