What's the difference
from staying in your house
and being in prison?

Why do we live in a culture
where we are players on a monopoly board?

We aren't we players forfilling our wishes or dreams?
Goals and desires

Where we watch coloured thirty inch screens
Screens of other peoples life stories
Instead of creating our own story

Why do we diminish ourselves?

Why are we players in someone elses dream?

Fear in our advertisements
Rather than freedom

If this life
Your life
Was your only

Why are you a player in someone elses dream?

Cut the ****
Cut all the negative ****

"I want to pay bills, and work a nine to five until I die"
Said no child ever

The man in the suit robs you
He cashed this in for the happiness of others

There is a world out there
197 million square feet of it
Dont chose to spend most of it in 97 feet of it the furniture of deadly comfort zones.

A dream you can't capture,
A thirst you can't quench.
A time you can't hold,
A bus you couldn't catch.
A book which you wished it never ended,
A rain which you wished to be everlasting.
A sensation you cannot fully relish,
An infatuation so unfathomable!
A moment worth a thousand universe!

'Wish I could seize them all!
But where's beauty in that!
For I choose to live as a bruised man
Rather than a soulless god!

I came empty handed
and that is how I will go.
The soil where I am planted
is where my memory will grow.

Being born, you are just there
constantly crying for eating, or for everything in the air
you are constantly loved and cared for,
but you do not need to do the self

being in life, you have grown a lot, gained a bit
earning money, traveling to everywhere, talking bulsh-t
making you wealthy and famous a bit
but at a certain point in life you have to stop, just drop it.

mine poetry I love so much is of all kind
you may like it, love it all this bulsh-t
you may stop reading if too lengthy, just stop it
or pause a while,
then at any momentum, you may rewind
all the words that you have in mind
yeah, mine poetry is of this kind
adorable, many minuses and yet sublime

how simple the words, is oft thought-provoking
thinking about those words causes mind aching
mine poetry is for pleasure to treasure
and never for heartbreaking

who says if I say simple words
that you regard them simple too, that´s absurd
since these simple words in mine poetry
are seldom a brevity but oft a lengthy
lengthy makes most thought-provoking
added,  some with a wit and some with a tragedy

A small flicker of light
In the night

To remind me
There's good in the world.

Not demanding
Attention

Or flooding me
With the knowledge.

Barely a blink
Just enough
To give hope
And
Make me think.

You're out of reach,
For now...

l.v.s

I was once convinced
Everything would
work itself out.

Every problem had a solution
Every fixation, an axis
Every point? purposeful.

Certainly time was an equation.
Solving the question of final age
was merely the addition of years
and the subtraction of moments
our vices swallowed.

Everything was orderly.
Numbers in a row.
Empty boxes, waiting to be checked.

DNA strands coiled ceremoniously
into my exact composure
worried about me so I wouldn't have to.

Days flaking off like dandruff,
unsightly flecks of fragility,
floating toward irreversible fate.


I would live until I wouldn’t.

I would teeter
        ...skid
                   ....careen
through hours, anxiously awaiting
never taking a breath to rest and reflect.


Death was algebra.
I was subtracted from morality,
added it back as fatality.

Evening out- solving for X,
My many quaking days
having lost their grip.
            ~
Life is not math.
Life is trash recycled into sporadic moments that won't last.

Simplicity was never synonymous
To consciousness.
Sentient beings will always suffer.

Words will never suffice
When the feelings are out of place.
Attempts at descriptive narrative
only feel like a forced hand,
a poor play.

My slippery fingers are arthritic,
clutching at the vapors
of moments before mistakes.

I've never kept anything I loved.
I have ****** out of hate
more than I have out of lust.

I was always what I wanted to be
never was what I needed to be
And when desire ran dry
I always settled in the dust of desolate decisions.

The bell curve never helped with my grades
And this learning curve can’t help me find my place.


C.e.M. Aug. 11, 2016

I watched the petals form into a flower, The most beautiful I had ever seen,
Showing its colour with every glimpse of the sun ,
Hiding it's true colours for those who looked the closest,
Through the days slowly wilting ,
Lines forming and changing in shade,
I watched as it darkened,
Observed as the petal slowly flew to the ground ,
Gracefully finishing it's days,
Laying there alone as once the bud did start,
Limp and lifeless,
Where had the time gone.