A violin player
In the street
Playing for food
My ice cream melts
Into the cracks
To feed the ants
That conspire below

She says he's Siamese
I swear to god I've seen him read
The newspaper that layers his floor
It tells him the enemy and let's him know the saviour
He's learning humanities faults and failures
I can hear the cats talking loudly late at night in there native tongue
Debating if this is the place to be
There only evidence is the propaganda forced into where they sleep

I can see in your eyes
                          nothing that lies.  
Cost paid in one glance
                          confused in a trance.
Suffering cries I can't deny
                           pleading wishing to die.
Extremely sad
                   remember better times had.
Courage deep
                     take a decent leap.
I won't leave you behind
                           you'll find I'm kind
                          even easy to your mind.  
    We'll work on the grind
                                                fast forward
    rewind.
                             Strange Beautiful Mess
too much stress
                             very intense.
           Time to take on a little less.
                       Recreate
             bypass all hate
       redefine your fate.
                                         Go on
                                                    open
                     Heaven's Gate.

I still
keep wondering.
When was it
that I started
loving you
in these strange
unknown ways.
And that was
when I stopped
believing in
fairytales.

Writing Rhymes

Writing until I’ve got a headache in my eyes,
do you have any idea what it takes to write this many rhymes,
& speaking of writing I’m trying to write so many rhymes in my lines,
because they say it sounds a bit cliche so tell me am I doing alright,

I mean I habitually rap like it’s a ritual act,
it seems I’m a Minimalist with an excess of stacks,
and an excess of facts that’s sometimes off subject but rarely off track,
the Underdog that always seems to over react,

writing line after line after line after line,
switching my position with upward momentum,
so much that I don’t even know where I’m at anymore,
all I know is when I’m gone the world will still have these poems he’s sending,

he as in me and hey I do not mean,
to talk in the 3rd person I know that it’s weird,
but I do a lot of things that I do not mean,
like rhyme without trying like I’m doing right here,

which I guess makes sense in a sense,
since I often do things I don’t usually do,
see there’s two things I seem to be really good at breaking,
and that’s my own heart and my own rules,

so I’m working on only having one rule in my life,
and that’s to not have any rules,
because society and those living in it,
already try to over oppress us with their own crazy rules,

but what are rules if they’re written by fools,
I’d get into it but I’ll just choose not to,
because that’s another subject and I don’t want to get off track,
or subject us to something that’s not relative to the subject we’ve construed,

and since we’re on the subject of the subject that we’ve construed,
would you please remind me what we were talking about if you be so kind as to,
oh wait please delay what you we’re about to say because I remember now it’s we’re DFW,
and that stands for Down For Whatever ready for any endeavor and the chaos that could ensue,

which is this case seems to be rather mellow because it’s just words typed on a computer,
because I have an addiction to writing these missions in form of poetry and prose,
and I’d like to get better and start rhyming less with my letters,
but it seems old habits die hard & that my friend is nothing new I suppose,

and that’s why I’m writing until I’ve got a headache in my eyes,
do you have any idea what it takes to write this many rhymes,
& speaking of writing I’m trying to write so many rhymes in my lines,
because they say it sounds a bit cliche so tell me am I doing alright…

∆ LaLux ∆

it is strange to think
i will never again
taste love on your lips
trace your skin with more than my eyes
or ever call you mine

s.s

I've had a recurring dream,
In which I swim myself into deep ocean,
Ignoring icy waves that crumble atop me,
Until I'm just a pale face in the water,
Staring up
Reflecting a blank sky.

That's when I exit myself,
I watch myself drown and,
I realise it may not have been a dream as much as I thought.

The familiar
through time and space
can become so strange

The love
still there
but the energy received
is so
strange

You are still you
but you make me feel
strange

You speak
but don't do
like so many
but coming from you
is strange

It is strange
you won't meet me
or is that just the same

When and why
have you become
strange