Does a poem write itself?
Do they exist before created?
In essence, existing all around us
Absorbed into the psyche
Processed through the brain
Sent to a hand
Finished through the tip of a pen
Too then again
Be consumed by another human person
Producing a new translation
A different interpretation
But there's limits to randomization
Will we ever get to the point where every thought has been expressed?
Every possible sentence arrangement has been recorded and sent to the press?
Is there still the possibility that an original thought can be had?
It's a silly concept but maybe
One day writers block will be victorious
There's only so many different ways that these words can be organized into
Though, I can't imagine what that'll look like
When every thought has been thought through
When nothing's new
Will it still continue?

©2024

I don't want the kind of masculinity
That drives dads to hide their tears
That tells little boys it is wrong
To express their fears

I don't want the kind of masculinity
That says expressing emotions is wrong
I want to be the kind of man
That knows expressing emotions is strong

I don't want the kind of masculinity
That says there is only one kind of man
We can come in all shapes and sizes
Why is that so hard to understand?

I don't want the kind of masculinity
That pushes me aside
Even if I was born different then some others
I know who I am inside

Me n mangoz are heading west
Spontaneous with serendipity,
Expressing isn't easily found
When ones pretentiously profound,
Thinking of all the words
But they won't come out
So let's type them together, here
in the cyberspace let's shout.

I was never jealous of you
I was jealous of the people
Who were blessed
To be near you

I once had a dream about what I would like to be
but the dream's still being realized in life to see.
To date I now find myself having a poet's brain
and a passenger traveling in an outbound train.
The carriage I occupy is starting to break down
and I wonder how much longer it will be around.
Though it's better to always keep a positive mind
and not let the devil of despair to rob you blind.
The life we're all living now is just another dream
of that Infinite Existence in the flowing stream
of Its own imagination which has no real end
apart from the limiting state we all try to rend.
Only a few ever come to know about this game
that is played out within a holographic like frame
which includes all dualities of form and substance
created to express Its own boundless abundance.
The illusion's needless to say so very well done
that we are all caught up in it and try to have fun;
going from one extreme to another as we live
in mastering the art of how to love and forgive.
______

The dogs of the world often bark at just about anything
even at all those people who can poetically sing.
_____

I've recently been told
That music's for the bold
And performance represents
A simple flow of confidence

While I think that's good to know
I think there's more to music's glow
Cause when I put my pen to paper
I want me to be the shaper

I aspire to hone my craft
And not come off as over-daft
But my music is my art
Communication from the heart

And that calls consideration
Of musicians' motivation
Cause when you stand up on the stage
It's true the listener's the gauge

Of if your music is worthwhile
Or should be thrown into the pile
So overall it's just a balance
Of one's skill, but also talent

So at the ending of the day,
The final thing I'd like to say
is...

A is for Adam
Atoms are for art
I'll write like a free radical
But on stage I'll play the part