I lay here waiting in my skin for the tearing of the membrane
that seperates this world from the next one and I let myself
get carried along by a fresh stream of reasoning until I
flare up in the dark like a new species of amoeba

this balancing and spinning around on an atom and just not
falling off it becomes boring at times and maybe because of that
sporules once landed here to grant us the possibility
of another possibility

I lay here waiting and I manage not to drown just like only
an almost newborn baby can and being born in 1983
means nothing here in the swelling infinity
of the abnormal

my skin has been waiting for new atmospheres for decades
and the touch of unknown forms makes me shudder with
raw impervious happiness because invisible energy
effervesces alongside my arms and the eyes in my skull
could be anyone’s right now

suddenly the waiting is forgotten and I wallow myself
in the gathered fairy tales of every soul that preceded me
carelessly astonished and uncapable of understanding
the seriousness of this absurd life

inside me irrational poetry dances
like a tribe jumping around a bonfire

outside the universe
dances her own eternity
round and round

Have you ever loved someone so much
You could no longer look at them?
Afraid that if you did,
They'd catch the emotion in your eyes?

This isn't a poem like that, not really
There was no brush of fingertips and long sideways glances
He is not the sun, and I am not the earth
But we could be meant to be

He is not an angel, He does not fly on wings made of music and
He does not leave ****** footprints across golden landscapes
He is not the best thing to happen since sliced bread,
Hell, he's not even the best thing to happen to me

And yet,
Here I am writing yet another poem
About the way I don't let myself look at his eyes
And who needs more words about how arms feel like home
When it could just be that you haven't been held in a while

Who needs metaphors about butterflies
When in reality it's just an excuse for hesitation
A fallacy-filled reasoning to not take a chance
And some sick culmination of a lack of self worth

I can give you reasons that I love him,
I can give you clues that he loves me,
I can give you explanations, similes,
Excuses for why I've done nothing,

But why even bother with that?
What is the point of waxing poetic about a boy
Who I will never make a move on
And who will never make a move?

Spoiler Alert,
There isn't one.

My silver lining, the timing impeccable.
My light at the end of the tunnel, making the fight and struggle seem all so subtle.
I appreciate you in every way, though to say we just met. Seems like it's been you and me since the ready set.

When with you
I loose the ground beneath
I loose the feeling of time

You take me embraced
To a world of ours
Where time is not a matter
Where there is only me and you

Oh you haven’t been in love
I can see that in your eyes
Let me show you
Let me guide you
It’s the only place to be

I am your cloud
So start chasing me
Cause the wind is strong in my back
You don’t want to loose me
There is no place for fears
There is no time to postpone
To find your soul mate
Is finding yourself
Don’t get disturbed by the devil
He will disappear when our both hearts melt together
He is challenging us
Because he is not a believer
But we are

So take my hand and let us fly
We were born to find ourselves
And take that flight
Can’t you see
Can’t you feel
It’s not about the differences
We are all unique
It’s about you and me and what we can become
An Inseparable being

Think about it
Take your time
But you cannot hide behind your diligence
My thoughts are much too clear and much too honest not to feel them
Being in Love is the final destination not a station that you should miss
So free your soul of the fears because they are not real
When we are together we are the ones we should be
A mountain flower that finds refuge under the cloud
That will stay there forever to protect him
Love is what it is all about

Now is the time to be with me
but you are with others.

How many nights passed with the moon rays ?


Feelings are coming  and coming and coming
days going ,month coming and on and on......

Now, realised that its my feeling of love, its my expectation,
its my dream.......

When God at first made man,
Having a glass of blessing standing by,
Let us (said He) pour on him all we can:
Let the world's riches,which dispersed lie,
Constract into a span.

So strength first made a way;
The beauty flowed,then wisdom,honour,pleasure:
perceiving that alone of all His treasure
Rest in the bottom lay.

For if I should (said He)
Bestow this jewel also on my creature,
He would adore My gifts instead of Me,
And rest in Nature,not the God of Nature:
So both should losers be.

Yet let him keep the rest,
But keep them with repining restlessness:
Let him be rich and weary,that, at least,
If goodness lead him not, yet weariness
May toss him to My breast.

THE CAPTAIN
When I took my first kick,
I knew I will score
I knew the spectators will cheer
the fans will praise.

I can play soccer all I need is
The refree's guide,
the Coach instruction,
the anti-supporters critizms
and the staffs support to soar greater.

The target I will never miss
the flag I will surely lift high
to the fans desire.

My team is the best
I'm the Captain
I'm the focus point.

Spent in New Orleans the bourbon kissed the streets only to find me alone again.

The night was wild and all those I need not mention to those whom truly understand.

We had miles ahead No rest in sight There comes a point being on empty seems like are full on a spring afternoon.

And us alone with are vices kept silent as the effects took there toll and are past memories flooded are thoughts.

Cigarettes and coffee one night stands and other vices stained are existence as the road somehow kept it all clean.

In moments of decay and Saturday night excursions broke are wallets and fueled are thirst.

There were miles ahead so I simply laid my head against the window And blocked it all out for the time being.

Another stop of and a month till I saw that place they tell me is home .
Empty as we run till hell kicks us back.

See you soon postcards and nonexistent phone calls
I'm never here sweetheart and always around .

Don't be sad I can't recognize myself
anymore either.