I don't care what other people think,
the only opinion I need is my own.
And I form it in the echo chambers
of my cold and lonely home.

I don't trust what other people say.
I've been hurt by everyone I've known.
People are mostly out for themselves.
I'm better off working alone.

People don't listen when I talk.
Don't hear my dreams and fears.
And when I share the things I think,
people often disappear.

And when I give a friend advice
and they don't do what I say,
well how can I help my friends through life?
I don't know another way.

People and I have nothing in common.
They don't understand my pain.
I used to want people around me,
but now I just move away.

Please feel free to leave some critical feedback on the poem.

The big-bang blew out this universe  
from bubblegum blown by some deity,  
huge non-existent lips were pursed  
then blew and blew with some great glee 
then quarks and electrons came to be  
from its spittle as the bubble grew  
but the thing which is chewing on me  
what did Newton's Third Law get to do?  
  
Coz, I've heard there's no front nor obverse,  
or insides to a singularity,  
nothing for the Third to push in reverse    
no equal and opposite reaction, see?  
But still something blows and with glee  
thick as a Plank I haven't a clue,  
my head aches now, that's reality,  
out of nothing a universe spewed?  
  
When I was a kid,  mother got terse  
and berated me if I chewed chewy,    
she'd not shout nor stamp and not curse  
just say " mucky stuff, waste o' money."  
But she got a laugh thought it funny    
when inevitably my bubble blew,  
and left my face gummed and clarty  
but if this bubble bursts, I guess we're *******...

Her pouty mouth clear-

ly shows me that she likes to --


**** on lollipops.

You guys really messed up that message-
Do you have the postage? Addresses?

The records & reports
For what you purport?
Are all the passages
Just rewritten, or
Pages overwritten?
Perhaps overlooked?

No longer properly understood?

Is the truth lurking out there,
Somewhere?
Buried under heaps of rubble,
Covered by mud & dirt.

Wipe the muck off.

Through the weeds & brush,
Thorn & thrush,
Slash the vine & burn the bush;
Get looking.

Spider spider, apple cider
Bench on old worn dusty paths
Crawling, sprawling and appalling
Inch closer to the whole and halfs

Peter Peter or and either
Both trees overlook the gloom
Ready steady toss the eddies
A week is weaker or too soon

Giver giver, baby critters
days adrifting off the web
Laughter after, doesn't matter
Eight long and prickly little legs

Earth comes out of its greenroom

I bend at the window
looking through the glass
down upon its vastness

something out there is wrong

the future's not what it used to be
a shadow tells me

I feel mysterious today
a stranger to myself
I don't recognize my voice

objects outlive us
but we are more than an accident of stars
someday we will be infinite
breaking into the distance

by serene velocity
by delicate transitions

bringing us closer
to a renewed interest in happiness

I walk these streets, silent and still,
Faces pass by, each chasing their will.
No words I offer, no call, no cheer,
In their worlds, they dwell—so far, so near.

Let them wander where their visions lie,
Beneath the same vast Nepali sky.
Dreams of theirs I do not intrude,
For in my quiet, I find my mood.

Am I rude to pass and not engage?
Or just a soul, freeing their stage?
Each moment they craft, I let it unfold,
A mosaic woven in threads untold.

Beneath these hills, in Kathmandu's grace,
I honor their rhythm, their time, their space.
For in this stillness, I see more clear—
A bond unspoken, yet ever near.

Let their paths shine, let them be,
As I journey within, just silently.
Nepali hearts, vast and deep,
In quiet respect, their space I keep.

I saw you sitting underneath
the train stop awning, curled up
like a comma, trying to punctuate
the end of this already miserable day

As the rain dropped like pellets
from spilled bird seed
covering your surroundings in
reflections of what you can't see

Water splashes from the passing tires
in search of a new refuge
akin to your unfurling gaze
now staring back at mine