Born into life, without questions, born to a period not knowing what it is, life laid out. Stirred and mixed with stronger overtones of melancholy. Ambition from mundane, a desire to fit in, to be noticed. Born smiling. Twinge.

There’s fear and loathing,
influence measured, as much of success.
Blink and you’ll see the same,
for when open a pair of eyes up. Smile and it will be reflected. Cry, it won’t.

Undefined vanity.

Land of freedom.

Breathless soaking, mist on glass. Violet haze. Fashion as veils. Trends of distractions. Attention, a threatening murmur. Contemplation of reckless emotions. Upturning awareness. Affection wanted. Castle. Inviting gentle poetry from poets that lived hard lives.

******* to one's inner-self. Spades.
How to make redemption on being born? Making an amends,
born into life, opening fire, slightly jaded, it’s not what anyone thought it is.
Charming like gold. Bleak inside. Placing random value. Moonlit dreams. Rustling silk wishes, isolation presence, always alone, gleaming out, as to say that creation is more than anyone could possibly bear. Weighing one down.
The fullness of decaying hope, producing perfume to poems.
Crossing over the duration of one’s natural life. Attempting to pardon the bitterness inside. Though it clings to my soul with dear life, yawning it causes, laying to normal daily
living,
freightful
torrent
fragile
in
common
ways.
Threading malady. Originality always on cue to be tempting, at times to feed, an incredible lust. Everything becomes vivid and heightened, sounds louder, heat rose, perception becomes acute. Avoids eye contact in hope that one’s own inner-life is not noticed. People know the face, barely remember the name.
Innovation is in the aroma,
master of one.
Fate and destiny seems to want to marry.


Maybe it’s a shift of culture, viewing glass, a new dogma.
Noticing the afflictions of life, attaching not to limitations,
the clarity of mind can destroy much of the illusions that seem to float by,
where the youth seems to vanish,
regret builds.
Monotonous now. A fling. Poetry played over jazz.
Burning underneath desire, hanging over, like a bending flower head. A fear strong. Being unsure, questioning, pushing people away, an whole affair, an entire loss.
Collecting old memories of joyus particular moments.
Making attempts to hold and feel a content life, dripping into something, one expected or wanted. Just mercy now.
Voyage
Starvation
Servitude
Burning
Sun
Cold moon
Gathering
Around
A
Fallen
Star
Chanting
For
Romance
Like
The
Kind
Of
Romance
All
Those
Poets
Seem
To
Know
In
Intimate
Ways

Craving against to revolt against the life born into. Knowing at the back of one’s mind, one has
to revolt against the hesitation that one produces.
A manuscript to another tragedy. Expressions of fears, played out on stage. A grandeur melodramatic gestures. Saturating over earth. Cry more? Why for?
There's fortune in freedom. Effort is a must. Courage is trust with oneself. Horror inside. To do, it’s like its been tried before. A certain manner in one's own grace. Self-made beauty. Alluring. Everyone wanted to know, everyone wanted to, always pushed away.
Flashing eyes, widened and still,
mouth closed, clenching firsts. Cursing missed opportunities. Alone at home, safe and yet failing.
        Fascinated with Utopia. Calling out to poets.
        Quenching the fire.
         Asking for passion that flares and continue to progress.
Argue with self-worth.
Entangline with self doubt.
Staying mute.
Do i dare recite poetry to thee? Breaking out on impulse that keeps motivating.or just continue to loathe over unfulfilled wishes. Tomented to be locked in my own stillness.
For I’ve heard the garden of eden contained paradise.
Truth in beauty, it’s beauty because it holds truth.
(knowledge variable)

Here by the Beat Hotel near
the St Michel in a cafe with wine
I feel the hum turn to sizzle and
sparkle and overfill into my eyes
too much till they are brimming with
hope that could spill onto the table
and my heart is swelling with a
optimism and I feel it spilling
over I worry I will laugh crazy
for no reason but to release
all the glowing light inside which
is feeling far too obvious for everyone
they will think I am drunk but I have only had a sip but this
conversation is several glasses of something of energy of
fermented anger and worries
and anxieties about the world

turned into wine and we
sip the sentences we sip the
sentences and eyes clink glances
in holistic belief and hope it
is so much but you
say we are free we
are freer than this ramekin
which once held peanuts which
we nibbled between drink
and thought and you say you
can’t believe you are talking of
Sartre here and it is cliché
but the words
ripple like a song we know we
forget but when it plays
we forget we forgot and always
know we need to hear it again
we wish we could record the
feeling the sights the words the
way you say the words so
that we are filled with childlike
possibility when life weighs us
to stare at our feet.

Real tenderness can be perceived, longing affection, like how overused a glance is used in the romance genre, oh how else is lover supposed to start? For what I’m I supposed to do, when she’s not around? So I write poetry to help pass the time. I want to bask and yawn in paradise, as for me, I dare to dream on her, sweet honey kisses, though until it’s in actions, there is nothing wrong with romanticizing upon her, poetry is comfort until she glances attention, shifting my emotions from terror of angst to perhaps life isn’t so bad. Do I dare to glare inside her secret eyes? Secrets, secrets, secret inside. Do I dare wonder how many had dared to do the same? As I watch her turn away, as my heartbreaks in two. It’s only earthly sadness in eternal war. I’ll breathe in the moon, I’ll breathe in the sun, ******* in all of life’s beauty. For it’s only temporarily compensations. I’ll report back to poetry. For love isn’t meant for some strange land, some dream we all experience, a yearning or a sigh. Love was made to be held in our hands and experienced.
(knowledge variable)

Thoughts of love, no other feeling I’ve ever wanted,
to love ceaselessly and in ease, to be loved back
without fear of finding my flaws, no-insecurity to
fill out the void between us, because if it’s true love,
everything else will be parted from and we’ll have
nothing else to do and to feel. In melodramatic uplifting,
passing the Shakespearean drama, sonnets kiss us,
they’re in ode to the love we produce, on fire our
hearts, passion reaching for storms, flushed and
heavy. Wishing that our past when we never had one
another would be forgotten now, rather than later.
My hopes, my dreams, my yearnings had already
gone into exile, lover lay, lover fly, high pelican, high
like heaven, cry now? What for? Smiles swirl with
the smoke from our heat, muted silences, speak loud,
whisper now, scream louder, is it fate? Or is our love
by accident? With the Angels singing, it doesn’t seem
to matter. No longer does our shadows shape, the
soulmate we had always craved. And every poets knows
about us. Cello symphonies, harmony in the colours
they choose to paint, I say it’s for you lover, but never
are you to accept that, Muses that we replace say it’s
the ******* sessions we do. Something we have,
humanity can’t. Beauty wild in simple, complex to others,
as it was once to me, it’s something I didn’t determine,
now it’s the cause of my distractions, fly more, high now,
my blood is stronger,  until your beauty formed in the
speech of your tongue, now I can’t stop the words I love
you so. Because it’s life for me. Now you spoil me. With
nothing to offer you in return, besides my loyalty. Firefly
rustles. The only pray I got to say, other than wanting to
be holy, after easter comes, is that I just can’t die now,
I’ve always wanted to live fully and free, in her arms,
for I’ve found my own safety, maybe this is too much of
a good thing, at least now I got something to die for.
Lovers got to watch the throne, we got pistols under those
pillows, nobody likes the ones in love, conformity hurts
when they witness those to live out as they see fit.
Dusts of history slowing dying, noticed in those sunlight
beams, violet and smelling of gold in those moonlight
silver, birthing our own romance, we’re the honey and
silk when it comes to freedom in reality. Our souls are the
church in the wild, permitting rebirths and forgiving the
bite marks in apples, the love to tempt the devil himself.

A small pebble is placed in the stream. The pebble is carried away.
A large pebble is placed in the stream. The water flows around it.

Rising from the water
like a fragrant cupcake.
Seeds floating in the stream
increasing from the wake.

Blue and purple
blooms onto to the pads.
Roaming and roaming
across ripples in scads.

Growth so pretty
and basin so new.
Lily so delicate
and purely blue.

All present in the stream of time,
Connected they build a line, a river which flows uninterruptedly,
The here and now, is the future of a pasts dream, a wonderous reality,
It is the futures past, the memories recorded within the depths of it
Gravity distorts time, causing it to slow down till it's stopping point lensed from a black hole, lurking within shadows of remorse in space,
Fished out from the sea of passing events, it keeps flowing, but now it does so while not including the fallen one who embraced a blackhole,
Time only knows one path, straight ahead with no slips and turns,
The present is the pasts future and what was thought to be possible,
It is the little wealth every living being possesses yet it is overseen and forgotten, until the moment of ones death drives gladly near,
From the womb to the tomb, drowning within the waves of a temporal lengh, the event of an entity's existence and its period.
A pace for an allotment, given from the complaints of an worldly life,
Spend it well, unlike the spring we cannot turn the tide, recycle again!
But for that matter the world of dreams holds a sweet embrace to all,
After all, you don't need to die in a dream.

~ Umi

1) I want one thing from you:

Love, attention, love & attention
Pay attention to my love

2) I want nothing from you

No love, no care, no attention
Leave me grinning and bare

3) I don't want you

Your heart is too full,
there is no room for me

4) I want your best

Say "no", I dare you
Give to me gifts
Give to me YOU

5) I want one thing from you

Deny Me Nothing

Slowly I walk towards the wall. Someday, somehow, some say, we will all face him. He is not me, not like the one I imagined but instead a reflection of a fragment that has disappeared ages ago. And I know one thing for sure: long before my first and last breath, everyone is here.

A last stand… Beckoning.

A blurry scene collapses like a rose’s thorn crushed by a hammer, and it’s heaven. Fresh air breezes throughout the field like a thousand winters summoned  in a hot air balloon; one pop, and it might burst.

Instead it dies.

Blackness fades into nothingness as light bends darkness when desperateness serves greatness. A tiny yet almost invisible terrifying spot of delight. All will come true and limits are met only when reaching the neverending centre again and again.

The concentric circle.

Never have I felt this much euphoria as time feels decay; the process of giving and taking, for eternity. And never have I dreamed so much desolate fueled nightmares until tonight. A night to remember for the ages as ages tend to burn with backwards conspiracy.

A feast for the new millennium.

Tragic meets company as destiny embraces chaos when a tall figure stands opposed to a small ocean vessel. Waving fiercely, with strong arms. Screaming against the absence of light. But not tonight, not anymore. Maybe never, yet always.

The destined traveller.

Always wandering but never here as the room grows from specs to pyramids; standing great and longing connate justice. Ever towering, never to look down, yet always pondering. In spite of desire, thirst is not quenched, however the stalactite still grows slowly.

The remains.

Nothing is sacred and with the fidelity of strangeness interwoven its frontier is bubbling with the force of insecurity; the final pillar of a marble treehouse. Leaning. Never to leave, never to stay, but always here.

Forever.