The sundancer is dodging space junk on the moon.
She is daughter of the sun, reason the moon shines.
The view is breathtaking, and so is the vacuum.

Below spin smells of seaweed, wildflower perfume,
but here satellites crush to dust, just alkaline.
The sundancer is dodging space junk on the moon.

There's no air to breathe up here, only fumes;
she sees moons fall into their planets all the time.
The view is breathtaking, and so is the vacuum.

Sundancer somnambulist hears ghosts in her bedroom.
She pulls the tides to her chin, tucked in, and hides.
The sundancer is dodging space junk on the moon.

She dances in dark but keeps a toothbrush in my bathroom.
She is trying to survive.
The view is breathtaking, and so if the vacuum.

She whistles at birds, content in her own volume.
Constellation clustered face, her freckled stars align.
The sundancer is dodging space junk on the moon.
The view is breathtaking, and so are you.

I’ve quit the meaning and let the end fall
my subscription to America has just expired
and the soundtrack of furniture echoes down the hall

Oh lucky day in the shadows of this pall
this war of regrets is truly uninspired
I’ve quit the meaning and let the end fall

I’m fearful of this symmetry and the mirror on the wall
slept in stolen moments without even being tired
and the soundtrack of furniture echoes down the hall

I no longer need a lover I bought myself a doll
Hi-def latex silicon chip wired
I’ve quit the meaning and let the end fall

Ring tone homily I don’t want to take this call
practicing excuses and the will of being fired
and the soundtrack of furniture echoes down the hall

TV dreams for me and I swear that that is all
folks at home getting idols of the mired
I’ve quit the meaning and let the end fall
and the soundtrack of furniture echoes down the hall

Not with a bang but with a clatter
How ironic that life should feel so hollow
No one around to hear my world shatter

In this world I don’t even matter
So much so, that you don’t even know
No one around to hear my world shatter

People move about with pitter and patter
Yet no one sees as I silently go
Not with a bang but with a clatter

Birds take flight, and animals scatter
They run about with a beautiful flow
No one around to hear my world shatter

Only to these creatures do I even matter
But once I go, they won’t even know
Not with a bang but with a clatter

As I pull the trigger, making my head splatter
No one will remember me, saying “not long ago…”
Not with a bang but with a clatter
No one around to hear my world shatter

(I don't really hate pantoums, but once, when I wrote about the rules for repeating forms like pantoums and villanelles, one girl commented "I hate pantoums and villanelles. I guess I get bored easily." But this only provoked me to write a Pantoum using her words, just a little edited.)

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I hate pantoums and villanelles
because I'm very easily bored
when a poem goes on and on, and tells
the things that have been said before.

Because I'm very easily bored,
I get impatient for lots of stuff.
The things that have been said before
don't need repeating. Once is enough.

I get impatient, for lots of stuff
I get to hear throughout the day
don't need repeating. Once is enough
to understand what you have to say.

I get to hear throughout the day
the same old news again and again.
To understand what you have to say
should not be hard. Intelligent men

and women don't need those extra lines
when a poem goes on and on, and tells
what it's said before, too many times.
I hate pantoums – and villanelles!

I selfishly await my own demise,
While fearing death of those who are around.
It’s only for others that the heart cries.

A cruel joke the world plays, love dies
Ensuring all the mourning heads are crowned.
I selfishly await my own demise.

People around me try to dry my eyes,
But I know tears are meant to stay. I’ve found
It’s only for others that the heart cries.

Our final dreary rest is food for flies.
As others meet that cold and final ground,
I selfishly await my own demise.

Life claims my will, in my casket it lies
With memories in which their deaths are bound.
It’s only for others that the heart cries.

No faith on which that I rely, the skies
Are holding out on heaven so profound.
I selfishly await my own demise,
It’s only for others that the heart cries.

A drug is not like a candy
Displayed in a grocery store.
It's just a short-term remedy

To control your symptoms quickly.
I think you would have heard before-
A drug is not like a candy.

Ever heard of drug allergy-
Like rashes or blisters which tore?
It's just a short-term remedy

Not to cure disease totally.
Some take it like everyday's chore.
A drug is not like a candy

To rid pain and make you happy.
Think of those side effects and more!
It's just a short-term remedy.

Try to learn pharmacology,
I bet you will find it a bore.
A drug is not like a candy;
It's just a short-term remedy.

Broken glass shards poke out from healthy hearts;
Reopening wounds you assumed closed up.
Okay, okay, it’s fine to fall apart.

Overthink and make your mind want to dart;
Keeping thoughts hidden in a tight lockup.
Mornings are brand new, refresh and restart.

Always to blame but never question art;
It takes time to find a way to buildup.
Okay, okay, it’s fine to fall apart.

Positivity, easy to kick start;
Negativity, easy to blow up.
Mornings are brand new, refresh and restart.

Back to a place you thought you had depart;
Yourself will come back to fill up your cup.
Okay, okay, it’s fine to fall apart.

May be lost, but you are not a spare part;
Darkness just crawls back for a quick checkup
Okay, okay, it’s fine to fall apart.
Mornings are brand new, refresh and restart.

Was made of blood stained blades and tear stained cheeks,
Bated breaths trapped between warning footfalls,
The silent echo of your helpless shrieks.

Children locked in church bathrooms, circus freaks,
Disgraced, oh how laughter mentally mauls,
Was made of blood stained blades and tear stained cheeks.

We were called horrible things, worthless, weak,
They drowned it out, those noisy know-it-alls,
The silent echo of your helpless shrieks.

And oh, the way my thoughts, they used to leak,
Like poisoned water, roaring waterfalls,
Was made of blood stained blades and tear stained cheeks.

But you, so fierce despite being so meek,
Pushing down all your words, you used to crawl,
The silent echo of your helpless shrieks.

Today, I fight the words I didn’t speak,
And I’m sorry, I sat by, watched you fall.
Was made of blood stained blades and tear stained cheeks,
The silent echo of your helpless shrieks.