Did you know?
Everytime you smile, your eyes get a little wider and more full of life. That almost, just almost, there may even be a faint twinkle in 'em

Did you know?
The shy girl who turns on her skype video camera, even after shes been crying. The girl who tells me she looks a mess... gives me 101 reasons to fall in love with you again.

Did you know?
Every single night, I message and wish you goodnight & sweet dreams. Each night before I sleep, so to do I, tuck that toy kitty you gave to me - the one which meant so much to you - in on the otherside of the bed and kiss it goodnight. That is helps me sleep better.

Did you know?
I hear my name on a daily basis. Often too many times I feel - thank you mother - and yet its only when you say it, that it makes me smile. Its so much more personal, so much more meaning to hear you say my name. 'Tis a shame I struggle to find the right time to use yours. I do love your name.

Did you know?
"The number of stars that you can see on a clear (moonless) night in a dark area (far away from city lights) is about 2000" and despite each and everyone of them... you shine just a little bit brighter to me.

Did you know?
There are 21 letters in the english alphabet... If you take out the letters "U R A Q T"
Or that perhaps it is that there are 26 letters in the english alphabet, yet all I ever need is "I O U" my life, my love* ♥

Did you know?
Out of all the art galleries in the world, they are worth nothing, because the most beautiful work of art I've seen... is you when I wake up next to you.

Did you know?
People drool over celebrities, famous people and idols. But to me, they're worthless. Everyone gets to see them and fall in love with them. Only I get to see you and be in love with you, and only you. Love me back.

Did you know?
If I had a dollar for everytime a thought of you entered my mind, I wouldn't be sitting from my computer sending this to you. I'd be in your arms and living the rest of my life by your side.

Did you know?*
I miss you my love... I miss you so much, and I love you, so much...
Just wanted you to know that above all else. You mean the world to me. I do hope you get to see this, which I'm sure you will. I hope you don't think this is cheesy and stupid.

Wired like a loaded gun
Waiting for the morning sun
Hello! How are you today

And I wonder
My love
Should I take the sun from you
Put it in a box of darkness
Like setting

I spread the ashes of a love never in love
just a circle venn diagram make believe but not Peter Pan
And love
I love you so
I am the sun
And I shine for no one

So box of darkness
Here I come

Speckled star dust farm eggs
Fresh renewed self conviction
Moon born
Phasing through to a life
Without you

Hedonism blood pulse
Still sentimental soul
Selling out to the lone wolf
Sneaky fox

Flowers tainting memories
Hand holding cheek kissing nostalgia bliss
Don't think
Of the one you will miss

Just kiss
Supernova
Little sunhat at nighttime party
Don't don't listen to the lies you whisper to yourself
You are the one you'll miss
If you don't help yourself

Feast on sin and self-righteousness
Reincarnation is second chance
Listen to the hands with the carnations outstretched
Fellow stranger with star burnt eyes
caring for those self told lies

You cheat
yourself
with handholding cypress knees bending towards
neurons collapsing
into the one who
Binary stars you
Binary stares at you
Holds you in your sleep from far away
Dream meeting past life fleeting into the now
You answer to this highschool crush pop quiz invader of reality
Who questions what color to paint the moon
Never almost drowning
But who has only ever taken a life
that belonged to them alone
relating in fictional patterns of physics
Undeniable wavelengths
colliding crashing consoling
You knew from the first eyes
that seeds of doubt would sprout in what you mislead as love
And you ask
Why not?

Hello,
        today is not tomorrow.

She was sunlight,
incarnate,
before I became a forest of trees,
I was a blade of grass,
she dared to love me,
but found it too great a task,
left for greener pastures,
leaving a wake of fire and ash,
and still on sad days I  look for warmth
in the footsteps,
of her path.

At Notebooks end.
So we’re at this notebook’s end. The pages are full to bursting in there and to celebrate the ledger of poems and lyrics and half formed ideas I’m going to write down this freestyle of topics I haven’t discussed herein. Let’s begin with my senpai she knows who she is she picked the topics out that’s how special to me she is. She was the one who picked these topics out that’s how special to me she is. But I have to ask her finally to be mine because people like her come around once, maybe twice in a person’s lifetime.
Anyway let’s get into the real meat of this freestyle I think I’ll start with my room and its many strange residents that I acquired over the years via dumb luck gifts or just spending dead presidents. I have shorted out headphones that only seem to work with a binder clip two guitars and my grandpa gave me a bottle that contains a ship I have two vinyl pop figurines 1 of Batman and the original robin who later became Nightwing. A sewn pouch full of spare guitar picks additional sketchpads that are totally rad and an N64 console with a messed up controller and a lagging joystick. And last but not least I have on my Bed rest Del the Funky Sox Bear and his little brother Shawn Hawk aka MF.
Now that my room is covered let’s get into the nitty gritty about my hometown Chicago the second city. Warning to all tourists its pronounced S-E-A-R-S tower even though it’s spelled Willis. Anyway I was born and raised here like DJ quik and his hometown of Compton no offense to the man but in my city we have our own definition of Stomping. There just isn’t any city on earth that is quite like mine I have a lot of love for my home more than I can ever hope to fit into one rhyme.
Now onto two more topics that Echo picked out. Laughter and sound, Is it possible to accurately describe these two parts of life in a verse that’s been written down? God only knows because we’re going to find out. Laughter is life’s most potent medicine releasing endorphins that make us feel good all over. But as it can be medicine it can also be a poisonous mask because many people including myself over the years have used laughter to cover up the tears from a broken heart of glass. Speaking of laughter it’s a most wondrous sound emanating from humans occasionally rolling around on the ground. Sound technically speaking is vibrations that travel through the air that surrounds but for me its fuel to write my musings down.
Last but not least let’s address the blue sometimes cloudy and sunset blazed sky, now heights and I don’t really mix in just not that kind of guy. But on the back of a calm endearing Zephyr I would love to fly.

I am chained by my sentimentality
Fragile to emotion's touch

I glanced at the first rose of winter,
Blighted & withered by the cold,
Her blood red & stained onto the pages
Of my very first winter poem.

Across the white grounds stood a man,
Old & shivering like erosive sand,
His rake taking back the souls of nature,
Leaving still the branches bare.

But bare not much like the book on my lap,
Its skin & tissues as bare as a single hair,
The wind gushes & hushes & swips
Turning the pages alive and well.

I desire to press the ink onto the page,
And yet empty it is without a word,
For after the rose choked & blighted,
My first poem was stolen & gone.

By the wind, and into the sky,
Into the soul I've longed to recall,
Words were not enough for a poem,
For poem was not words but a person of a soul I desire.

The actor on the screen of our favorite show has nothing
on the way the TV glow graces your skin.
And the vibrant sunrise pales
to the green and gold peeking out between your tired eyelids.
There is no comparative to spilling words into your chest
in the quiet darkness when neither of us can sleep.
And the warm fizz that fills me when you pull me
just a little bit tighter
and press your full lips to the base of my skull.
I wouldn't trade that little smile that tugs at the right corner of your mouth when I kiss the left for all of the big things in the world.

I awake each morning
With fresh hope
And tranquility;
I might go for a saunter
Down quiet London backstreets...
Soon my aimlessness
Depresses me,
And I realise
I'd been deceiving myself
As to my ability
To relax as others do.

I decided on a Special B
Before the eve.
I bought a lager
At the bar
And chatted to Gaye.
Then Ray
Bought me another.
I appreciated the fact
That he remembered
The time he,
His gal Chris,
And Cary downed
An entire bottle
Of Jack Daniels
In a Paris-bound train.
                                                                    
A tanned cat
Bought me a (large) half,
Then another half.
My fatal eyes
Are my downfall.
I drank yet another half...

My head was spinning
When it hit the pillow;
I awoke
With a terrible headache
Around one o'clock.
I prayed it would depart.

I slowly got dressed.
I was as chatty as ever
Before the exam...
French/English translation.
Periodically I put my face
In my hands or groaned
Or sighed -
My stomach
was burning me inside.
                                                                    
I finished my paper
In 1 hour and a half.
As I walked out
I caught various eyes
Amanda's, Jade's (quizzical) etc.
I went to bed;
Slept 'till five;
Read O'Neill until 7ish...
Got dressed,
And strolled down
To Golders Green,
In order to relive
A few memories.
I sang to myself -
A few memories
Flashed into my mind,
But not as many
as I'd have liked -
It wasn't the same.
It wasn't the same.
                                                                    
Singing songs brought
Voluptuous tears.
I snuck into McDonald's
Where I felt at home,
Anonymous, alone.
I bought a few things,
Toothpaste and pick,
Chocolate, yoghurts,
Sweets, cigarettes
And fruit juice.

Took a sentimental journey
Back to Powis Gardens,
Richness
And intensity,
Romantic
And attractive,
Sad, suspicious and strange.
I sat up until 3am,
Reading O'Neill,
Or writing (inept) poetry.
Awoke at 10,
But didn't leave
My room till 12,
Lost my way
To Swiss Cottage,
Lost my happiness.
Oh so conscious
Of my failure,
And after a fashion,
Enjoying this knowledge.

I am lonely in thoughts
And practice
Like sport without training
And I will die knowing less than I have learned
Transparent in form & nature
Giving birth to myself in ways my mother couldn't
On stumbling ground
With no grace to be lost or found
I tremble in my humble footsteps.

There is a story behind everything

Whether they can pass for something interesting you can talk about at parties, a story you wish to tell your children, or words and paragraphs you wish to keep between closed books, unspoken

We choose to let these stories unfold on the sentimental values that uphold such existence

Like the ring on my finger, the necklace around my neck that I hope could represent how much I love a person

Or the scarf that was given to me one winter, a picture that was taken last summer, or simply just thoughts that cannot be expressed enough to shape something physical

Everything comes in forms with words of meaning, that may or may not articulate accounts that we desire to bring across an audience of eager listeners and uninterested individuals

There is no such thing as ‘meaningless’, just significance, and one is not required to utter words that can suffice the story behind it

It doesn’t matter if it can only be held by the heart, or of hands that are worthy

We all have treasures to keep and experiences that we have yet to receive and it is up to us as human beings to take such things with gratitude that will be enough to create a story

A story that would be deserving of words, or a story of unsaid expressions that are ours to keep

n.j.