Beyond the violet and violence, through the hole in the heap
Dwells men of fierce histories and stone conditionings, there
They sit in circle and misery, holding guilt close
To their ears and parting with their own ditch-dipped words.
Collections of tragedies and schools of morose mentalities
Dance in the middle of the room, speaking down on eachother;
Most likely an attempt to impress Mother and to scold Father.
They don’t get very far, these talks, rather
They end further down the ladder than when they commenced -
Two rungs down and the heavy tattooed butcher man
Sinks two quarter-full whiskies to help him find his bed.
Five rungs down and the spanner wielding skinny man
Calls up a number to haunt unpaid listeners with what he said.
Nine rungs down and the privileged uni boy
Smokes batons of magic leaf until his eyes are painted red.
This is where the stories end,
Those Who fell past rung nine
Are no longer falling and alive.
One rung up and the naive boat keeping man
Tells his wife he’s feeling better but out of luck.
One rung down and the naive boat keeping man
Tells his wife he’s feeling worse but rather proud.
The ladder stands tall and overarching
At the ‘dried out men’ meetings,
It’s the only one that keeps its posture
And never falls under -  
Perhaps one day it will falter
And the men will see
That they are more than just
A rusting rung on a ladder.

the men I crave
speak blunt,
wanting me for
my poetry persona,
strength sheer as a cliff,
me to be their tour guide to the edge,
my sexuality unabashedly to be their owing

they speak plain,
believing directness
is an aphrodisiac for me,
my style, direct unvarnished,
so that must be whom I am, surely

but they err deep grievously

I do love my poets so, the
ones, soft spoke, genteel, feeling
using first, no never, guile, words harmonizing,
softening the edges so smoothly rough necessary
for me to protect, confounding the harsh takers,
who never think to ask, never cradle, stroke,
don’t go below, see deeper that my nerves
are feminine, that pink is but a color,
that anyone could love, not an
invitation, a philosophy of
automatic surrender

now you know why I write poems,
to understand better the heart human,
ferret out the chaff, the bad, for everyone else.

#brandychanning

Our time was short
But our love was not
Across the park
Sitting below the bark
We kindle our hearts
Just like rain met fire
Let me tell you a tale
Of ruby and sapphire.

It all started before this year
You and me stranger from toe to ear
I saw you and you saw me
Really understood me relativity
Among the black you were the white
As i was the one who was not even on sight
You would say hi you would always smile
But I didn’t look nor cared if i was in a mile
You would always smile when you looked at me and one day things unfolded as you were in front of me.
I wanted to write, complete my journal
Guess who had written everything to make me feel infernal.
I asked your friend, did not looked at you
At this point, even you started to do this too
She pointed at you as you were bright
That was the moment you were into my life.
I thanked you on text, said few this and that
You replied few things, it was just a start.
Things moved ahead, i asked you out
You took time, but said lets head out
My first time was embarrassing, didnt wanna make it happen again.
But ohh boy look, who has fallen from her moped.
I controlled my laugh and went to help you
Opened the door and made a impression on you.
Talking, laughing i was busy with myself,
That you ordered something which cost me a whole buffet.
From that day with texted more and more
Got closer and closer, unknowing both
That a storm was near.

How should i describe him what should i call?
He is the one who destroyed it all
Whom to blame and whom to not
Sliced her to pieces throwing her everywhere.

My heart cried like clouds filled with tears
As he was near and i felt fear
To know someone so close and still get rejected,
I guess guys this is life, and i respected.
He was my friend and she was my love
There happiness meant everything for now
Promise myself to never speak to her again
Only to find out my friend did the same
His silence to me and his happiness to her
Ohh boy wasn’t i the loneliest person in this world.
Picked myself brick to brick
Told myself to rebuild everything
Made my mind to be something new
But my heart died a million death
Whenever i saw both of you
What was i lacking? why am i incomplete?
What did went wrong? Was i indiscreet?
My worst time began, my life went round
I would never texted you that was my call
Got so busy in life i nearly forgot our dream
Only to find few months later
You broke up with him.

Met your friends, heard about you
It wasn’t pretty, few bads about you
From that day I saw your slither
Few i knew, but the truth was bitter
My curiosity increased, my mind needed answers,
This was the time when my heart became dancer,
I wanted to know, wanted to learn
What could possibly go wrong
For a girl this much fun.
Then after a month i finally knew,
But it was partial and away from true
They talked about how less of a person she was, they were the narrator,
That she was a bad character,
Laughing at her as she didnt matter,
Her own friends whom she thought she was close with,
Were no longer her friends but strangers together.
What did she do? What happened that February?
What could have gone wrong to what degree?
Well, to me, she did made a bad choice, we can all agree.
Finally I thought i knew the truth,
It was simple but defined her youth,
It was a misunderstanding that happened
A mishap that she was ravened
Her guy was a malice a untruthful,
And she would always need his approval
It would be a prison for a normal
But for her it was her formal.
She being made to do whatever he wants,
She making him happy by whatever he wants,
Such an obsession, such a passion
What would have happened
If only he would have gotten.
Even though he toyed her
Made her his slave
She did everything to please him
And by please, Yes,
Giving her unto him, he using her as much he wants, him making her a mess,
For now she was only an object in dress,
An object for satisfaction
As he was never concerned for her feelings
And nor her actions.
The day too did came, when he wanted to get rid of her, as his fun was done,
As his vessel was filled, and now he wanted another one.
What would a guy such as himself would do?
Well of course, he would spread rumours about you.
She is *****, she is bad, she is begging me to be with her and is only capable of sleeping in bed.
I had my fun, now i am bored,
Onto the next one
Here i go.
Said the guy who left her broken
Who left her puzzled and choked,
Who made sure she would never rise,
And would never breathe the air of nice,
It wasn’t done as i was still searching,
I met her again and we were matching,
Thought finally my love was answering,
Even all this i made her a goal in my map,
Little by little i was falling into her trap,
As she was only making sure,
That her EX would notice and she would roar.
Using me to finally getting her more,
Ladies and gentlemen, it was a good lore.

Got crumbled, had rage,
A typhoon ranged
All sort of emotions and feelings engaged,
But it was ******, Listen close
The ****** of love and hatred rose,
Such an intense hate and i had never felt
This was my becoming of something great,
No love for her I wanted her out of my life, but she was there in my sight,
My rage came forward gave her a decision,
I knew she would deny to all perfection.
Become my girlfriend said I.
No I can not give it a try,
Get out of my life, goodbye.
Those were my last words my last sentence
Event though she insulted me below the class,
Saying i was pressuring her and confusing her pass,
Her words heard by everyone, as i did not expected,
Everyone looking at me as i had done something unaccepted,
I couldn’t believe what i heard, my brain did run,
Me getting insulted was the last thing anyone would have done.
I said goodbye with an image of her in my mind,
That i shall never let her back in my life

The next day was sad,
The day after gloomy,
For only few days it may be,
I had the pleasure of getting near you maybe,
I made up my mind after that,
I was chasing something which i never had,
Never went to class as i got tired,
Always had thought of you which i admired,
Came back to senses, as they would always backfired,
Slowly slowly my hate became strong,
It wasnt ordinary it was a cruel song,
My love would never rise like a sun's dawn,
It had no hope, it had no receiver,
It was alone in itself with extreme fever,
Crying at a corner I consoled him a lot,
Only to find out he killed himself at last!

What the hell happened? Where did you go?
You leave me alone now, plz dont leave me alone!
This pain, this life might have killed you for once,
But trust me my friend i need you here to undo what has been done,
But i never heard you again, i never seen you again,
I am still in worry what happened with you ohh-my-kind-men,
Anyways, all right Ta-Ta-bye-bye,
You had a good heart, good love and a good cry,
I could be able to continue this path which you have lead,
"Just make her happy" this is all you said!
I promise to make it worth, promise to make it eternal like Taj,
So thanks for this life and goodbye Anuraj!

Abuse is a vicious cycle
that defiles and murders love.
It is a game
that only breeds hatred.
It uses shame
as a weapon.
In this vicious cycle; hearts no longer beat,
they get replaced by fists.
In this vicious cycle;
the tattoos that were meant for affection
become nothing but scars on the wrists
of those who were once lovers.
It awakens a bloodlust and makes monsters
out of strong people.
No, not monsters. It makes recidivists
out of strong people.
The strong abusing the weak,
a norm that continues to contribute to the cycle of abuse
It is a cycle that forces us to make love
to our doubts.
It keeps on violating us until our self-doubts
have consumed us
and
we've evolved to hate ourselves.

Doing it, in your heart;
doing it in your mind;
wishing you were, praying you aren't;

hoping you didn't imagine you did.

All mental, mentis realm, acts as if
we did;
but we did not.

We made a picture of what we thought.
We knew, as knowing is done in a child,
we imagine we know,
we say we did.

We did, when we were kids.
All of us.
Little liars unbeguiled, knowing only

good and not, -- then we wake from
that bubble of being when the walls fall,
the curtain is lifted,

and we find we live in a state that changes
with time,
time alone.

Done in time is done in mind and
we know.

As words, a we is formed into a them
and us, or more
pointed ly, a me and you all, and we all
fall victim to the wrong

we did with joy while sleeping
through the conditions causing
yesterday to go so very far from
yesteryear's
remembered. Those olden times when

stories told 'round cracklin' brushwood
fed deep pools of what ifery,
if only we could recall the rules for being
worth a ****... we all remember flying.

And I recall, the way to catch any bird was to sprinkle
salt on it's tail.

day 5
and something
whispers
i can almost catch the words
snagged beneath my earlobe

    you have to be okay with yourself
     you have to love her
      you have to want her so ******* bad
        so so ******* Bad.

you have to want her more
than the men that press her boundaries
pressing fingers against glass walls
taunting them to shatter
wood where water should grow
More than that .

and that girl w the bangs
and bruises on her face
the one snorting off car keys
giggling w the girl next to her
talking moving existing
like
She had a chance
To love herself
,
yea she’s trying

Your eyes fall so naturally over the body of every girl that walks by,
And they avoid me like I am diseased meat.
Men are wolves and when tamed, they're dogs.
But dogs still eat meat,
And she is quiet the piece.