Justus 2d
Sometimes it’s hard to tell which one is the actual dream
Whether it’s the mind that’s open
Or the eyes
There’s tribulation
Everything is easier that way
When you’re constantly under fire, things tend to resolve themselves
All you have to do is maintain
Got a word stuck behind your tongue
a sentence chippin' at your tooth
and I'm sitting here wonderin' what you have to lose
we're suffocating on
fruition stuck to pause
jaw grittin', head-splitting, complicating it until we rot
I wonder where you're at
perhaps you wonder too
I've learned the hard way that what ya say isn't always true
so suffocate me good
stuff it under things you should
and I'll be here
mere sightseer
collecting glass and driftwood
the ocean swells inside
a storm you cannot hide
we stand at command desperate to find our pride
is it so crucial?
to feel important and useful?
what makes you tick? what makes you sick?
Does it matter if we remain truthful?
There is loss and gain
my indulgence abstained
I hope you look at me
and finally come to see
I'm more than flesh and vein
Emotions made tender, but fair, fearing not the outside,
to what is felt inside, to play in eternity, to think in infinity,
be only that a paradox is, nothing else, nothing more, nothing
less, attempt to avoid despair and crying mood. As for you,
Bill, if the world is a stage, than the death penalty only applies
to the casting director. There is greatness outside poems,
romance too, sunburnt smiles and laughing memories.
Though for now, I shall write only about my death, fear, insecurity,
fault and flaws in written poetry. Not for comfort in. Just glittering
drops of silver stars, as for others to benefit from. It is worrying
only to be a paradox, living within immortality.
Delicate poems, flattery in times, the process of forever, devour my soul, the center of my inner-world. Flexible and strengthen in smiles. My love for you, no longer a spectre eyes, imagining ourselves, enticing the romance of poetry, into our breathing actions. Tending to our hearts.
In the yonder future, vast terrains of blank and nothing. Where we’ll absolutely nothing else to do, beside creating love in eternity. And time itself, everything that a memory is. Holy beauty shall know us. Marble statues and songs by tenors, other poems, homage only, echoing around as a famous shadow in any world we leave behind. In truth be told, only each we have only to truly find.
Temper never. Tempt me now lover. I will cave in and be enslaved by volunteer joy. I’m not burnt out. But will become of what you make of me. As now, you conquered immortality. Turning into illumination in the silhouette.
Freedom heated inside, burning in the crying teardrops, cult like chants drawing me in, struggling to master myself, perhaps it’s because of this world.
Limitations not on account of dogma and its religion, society or peers. I’m happy to converse with the devil, and sell my soul.
I can keep secrets, lover, we’ve got to be blood in and blood out. Freedom exists elsewhere and finally I’ve transcendent.
(knowledge variable)
Jabin Jul 3
Don’t hold me while I’m hurting.
That is much too easy.
Pull me out of the darkness
If you really want to seize me.

Don’t kill me with your kindness.
Sometimes I need your rage.
Politically correct?
It’s just a venue for the stage.

Dangerous line your flirting,
Trying to be perfect.
Transparent is the starkness
Of the lie you strive to protect.

I’d rather avoid blindness
In favor of the truth.
Have your heart plain to detect.
Please, don’t force me to be a sleuth.

It is tough, being exposed.
Show strength with all your might.
Even if it hurts me now,
Dishonesty is so contrite.

Stab into me, your passion.
Draw blood with vicious teeth.
Pain often heals with progress,
Then we can start to clear the heath.

For everything undisclosed,
For every secret veil,
Every hidden, broken vow,
For your own sake, I beg, exhale.

Yes, outrage is in fashion,
Upset for every other.
Each bullshit sneeze we bless,
Is another truth we smother.

I’d rather go on trusting,
You’ll show me if you hate.
I cannot fix what’s unseen;
Let’s engage in healthy debate.

Every conflict is a chance
To make our lives better.
The answer clear before us,
That apprehension would fetter.

Openness takes adjusting.
There’s no doubt about that.
But there’s so much good to glean,
From a respectful little spat.

Let us quit this petty dance,
And get close, flesh to flesh.
Spot the dirt and wipe it clean.
And continue the steps afresh.
Swiftly so much to sweep
Helsing so deep the love hard to keep
Her words were off balance
Poem stanza Mama Mia all formed
Like a ballerina 575 Japanese Haiku
Designer Pucci Sochi releasing
so piercing garden jailed away

I begged I needed to feel guided
Maid hard-love of slavery
to the requiem the chariot of horses
Jumped like eyes of the demon
She pleaded with what corruption
Planes fired with struggling
Hearts became stronger

The taste was the different side
wicked fun animation
The men were changed
cruel love aviation

Needing the right ammunition
Prince Zar became 666 Stalin
Leadership of blackmail
Lips got sealed with more
love friction
Make your poems roll in
The Trump Tower polls in
Holy Gods Italian Collisuem
Every hour Poem maid


The maid she had his words
Less communication so
Dirty what transcends
Your life depends?
"Delicious" Monsterous"
Only words "Devious"
maid Beauty and the beast
to digest

Destiny short poems of ecstasy
Oh! My She-locked
No heart or morals all locked
He wanted to steal her poems
Being conned into the heist
Higher walk with the rest

Poem Requiem palace
Hannibal Rising test
Watching her movements in
her lipping

She was home "Cruella" sweeping
Willow tree weeping new maid Priscilla
The Reign suffering minds of madness

Being ruled sweeping tears to clean up

Such wicked dirt Damon the dirty work

knowing to shut up what a jerk

Feeling moved around "UHual"

Choked upon on my I-pad appalled

The masquerading social media mind

of Jekyll and Hyde poems

Her getaway poems not to be fooled
Terraced thousands of poems died

All betrayed upon with more deep lies
Important words to keep them alive

Saturday night poems stay alive
Stakeout Apps Presidency
Like a heart snack breakout
This was far from democracy
The "Quickie Requiem" for a
poem tricked over taken away

My best dream

Gripping love slightly in between
Doctor words to heal the King
his beeper the right timing
Save the poem not the Queen
Love Requiem what a headache and things not to keep or words get silent why can't we speak like a migraine or a grain of the Egyptians sand to be pleaded with such corruption how does it change to love and affection
Love, romance, cliches, eye glancing, smiles and giggles. They live outside poetry and romance novels. Lovers exist. Hand holding, moonlight silver glow, that glitters off from objects on earth. Sensations in moods from the emotions hiding in essence. Forming itself in personal illumination.
Tingling from taking notice,
sacred to poets, altered hearts,
going beyond material success,
disregarding a world and it’s
self-made reality, forming a new.
Not sparked from philosophers. No symbols. No global revolution. But a conviction that a soulmate does not belong in poem, nor any other romantic art. Neither in the cosmos or some sort of parallel world. Forgetting dreams. Murdering fears and insecurities.  
Perhaps in embellishing in the romantic arts,
I had snorted magic, rather than man made narcotics.
Salt on rebirth, willing not to give up, on my personal
belief that love exist within this world.
(knowledge variable)
Poetry, the power to conceive an experienced emotions,
letting it loose in freedom, spoken tongue and fluttering
eyes, reliving an foundation to move forward. Knowing
full well, that death is definite. While I’ll speak as others
read. I do wonder what freedom is made from. Whether
it’s in this life or the next. Until the end of time, I’ll continue
in poetry and so far, it’s the best form comfort outside the
lovers arms of safety.
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