I load my silver tongue with brass
crass and hollowed-points may be my nature
**** my thoughts, take aim
and with plosive sputter,
sling my brain
with metal hatred

Fling my words in forked contention,
misattribute my cold-hearted intentions,
with passion a fervor holds convection,
'Till pride produce the bituminous heavens

But still,
with marksman's gaze will you free my lies,
your scope of view between the ghostly sights
and trigger a sensationalist enterprise
for which all my lies will bleach
From red to white,
Tartarous sheen

There are words severed from man,
and as they hang their heads for the guillotine,
has any body stopped to ask,
"What do they mean"?

But the wheel cannot cease revoluting,
just as the rifle cannot beget its shooting,
Without the fatal trace of careful phrase,
fingered around the triggered maze
These words will fly
hot metal and lye
Awash the ****** floor of dissident
and acidic representation

Till all the light of spoken rhyme,
will dine upon the littered flames

My gaze guides pink and blue of quiet calculator
Searching for the LCD
Hidden behind a pointless screen
As the outside pours itself upon me

It really tickles the soul,
The unbounding energy
I twist and shout as my skin furls
Curls with the waves of R.L-itty biting Goosebumps

Yet I can see between the trees of an old office park
The burned remains of waxy candle-like light
scattered across the rainy windowpanes
that fell around me in an amniotic metal box
I filled with an unopened lung

And behind the neon light she danced pretty as a queen
A silhouette, a silent dream
And I saw her in the drops of heaven,
In the rains of light,
And in the fuzzy deep inside
that echoed the hearty rumble of an engine
And carried me through wet asphalt
Of an unending night

Until I found a bridle

To bewitch she would let me ride

Yet in knowing ways she would dissatisfy,
Show the glaring between her eyes,
Tell me all the things between the sky
The she felt kept us from touching

No amount of metal screen
Or electronic ideation
Will fix the willful sublimation
of our shackled spirits
To realms out of reach

With human aye I fill my gaseous pouch
with the leathery sickly burning draught
of aromatic spinning gin and tonic
The threw my head over the bar
And out the door, into oiled alley,
Where She and I met lips there
Where we both smelled of reek
And Where weak minds tortured like glass
stained with the memories of fine wine

And a sense of overpowering divine

When we paired and parted,
Left for spheres
And both sought some different way out of..
here.

From the very first day that we met, I knew you were the one for me. We were engaged for a very short period of time. We got married right at an instant just like a fast-paced bullet, a speedy train and in a most unprecedented way.

You were there all the time to hear me out, you were there to hear all the pains that I had in the past and made sure that these are just specks in life that can be fixed with you beside me.

We've made it through the years and fought to keep each other strong. We were able to overcome obstacles that only by God’s grace we have survived. God has given us the greatest gift in life and blessed us with 2-little angels. You allowed me to pick a name for them (Kirsten and Aamira).

Yes, I admit it was too difficult for me to utter these 3-magical words "I-LOVE-YOU". But God knows, every second of every minute never did I fail to show it to you in a manner that only you understood. As they say, "Actions speak louder than words".
Last year, 2016 had been a roller-coaster of emotion. And I thought, that would be the dreadest year that I would have. I even remembered you asking me to get back to the real me as you can't go on with LIFE without me. With a great 'hurrah', we were able to surpass this 'bump'.

Here's comes the new year, 2017 full of hopes, telling each other that this would be the greatest year that we "could" have in our marriage. I was even too ignorant to book a flight but been asking my friends to help me. But, these were all useless, worthless, pointless....

I didn't know that you were sick; it all happened so fast. Death has climbed in through our windows. My Dearest Darling. I am not as strong as I thought I was. Since you have been gone, I sit and cry all night long. But, I know you're in a better place. Though, I may no longer be able to see your face I know you're smiling down there, cheering on me and telling me that everything's okay.
No Goodbyes just ‘SEE YOU SOON’…

You will say: “You’ve been holding out on me!” -
and that will be the day when this landslide of poetry
Finally comes spilling from my lips, because I can no longer withhold it -
And you will awake in the gardens that I’ve been growing here,
Looking at me with brand new eyes, like you’ve never really known me before,
Or seen me, or felt me, and we will roll together
Among these soft petals of imageries, fingernails like lilies
As you lift the pages, see them turning, these little white leaves,
Changing with the different seasons of visions and daydreams,
Thousands of hours passing in your eyes blinking, reading,
A living river of emotions flowing into those irises, of
All the things I cannot speak or explain or convey
When you are sitting here in silence, gazing deeply into me,
And I am leaning into your warm shoulder, wondering,
How I can turn these precious moments
Into the best kind of poetry.

My mother likes to hang bells
On the front door,
And I always wondered
What they were for.

They would jingle
Whenever someone
made entry,
and glitter
With the light
from the lamppost
On the street.

But they became dull
Hanging all day,
And the giggling clatter
Mulled and dulled
to a brassy bray.

Mom has a small wedding bell
Of a silver boy
Holding flowers
With a smiling grin.
He’s asking her to ring him
And bring back memories.

But father’s guitar glistens
Whilst the sun lays low.
With one pluck
The vibration hums
Smooth and mellow.

But can you hear it
Sitting on the steps?
This house is so large
But there still lays unrest.

And through The corridor
Clacks the patter
Of greyed canine feet.
But some of us
Lay silent
And reap the past
From the sounds
That do dare speak.

the living room clock
Drones with That of a distant chime,
Because the living arrangements
Have changed overtime.