#hypothetical
I've always been the kid in the hall
Outside the office door of some metaphorical "principal"
Donning a dunce cap, back to the wall
Anticipation spikes in general
This time it's special
When waiting for the next hypothetical, often hypocritical, shoe to fall I make it a double
Dribble and drop the ball
Taking on the challenge of life was a bad call
The order's too tall, don't try it y'all
What I've been given to work with is abysmal
Can't rely on it being factual at all
A criminally out of date owners manual
A For Dummies series appealing to a low level criminal
Vaguely creating, and/or aiding, this failure ritual
Oh the unmitigated gall
Scheduling my burial service to take place before the funeral
Fuucking brutal
I hate it and it seems the feelings mutual
The line stepping is habitual
The backward motion is perpetual
Not sure any of this is avoidable
But, what do I know...
...everything and nothing is impossibly possible
©2023
Dec 20, 2023
Dec 20, 2023 at 3:00 PM UTC
Thousands.
A fable of freedom and loss is the story that has been told a thousand times. But is that to say that the same words passed between a thousand men a thousand times over a thousand years are worth a thousand times less?
That the meaning is a thousand times lost?
Barely whispers on an open stage.
That if a thousand by a thousand men plant a thousand trees in a thousand meadows the earth would be a thousand by a thousand trees richer, but if a single man were to plant a thousand trees in a thousand meadows the earth would be a one man poorer.
Freedom was a man who never knew his name, he was the man who's story was told over those thousand years and he is the man who is making the earth a thousand by a thousand trees richer.
Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 2:35 PM UTC
If I fail this test... well I don't know...
Perhaps I'll drop out of school and walk
Thousands of miles to start a new life
Where things are easy and nice and sweet
Like spoonfuls of sugar for mouth-bleeds.
Or maybe I'll tug my hoodie tight
And hibernate in my mobile cave,
Soundproof from the shuffling strangers there,
Because behind the walls of my mind
All I need are daydreams of springtime.
Or I might borrow a better brain
From a friend who knows a lot of things
Like how to laugh right or calculate
The speed as Train A, Train B collide.
Yeah, I think that plan would work out fine.
Unless... unless I manage to pass.
But that's just a silly thought to have.
Nov 15, 2019
Nov 15, 2019 at 1:46 PM UTC
Hypothetically if I fell in love,
I'd love you the world over.
Hypothetically if you were mine,
You'd be my moon and my sun,
With a hold on my heart and my mind.
Hypothetically if I could only do one thing a day,
I'd sit at your side,
Laughing all the way.
Hypothetically if I had to chose,
There would not be a thought of any but you.
Hypothetically if you loved me,
Loved me like I love you.
Hypothetically if you could see me ...
The way that I see you.
Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 4:26 AM UTC
If each neuron in your mind were a tree,
How big do you think
The forest would be?
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 9:35 PM UTC
Am I right? Or am I wrong?
What is a poet? What is a human?
I come across these questions daily but I'm left with blank pages
Longing for but can never receive a true answer
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 11:23 PM UTC
Remember? Do you?
*The verses of the Mahabharata,
Where Draupati begged to let her go,
Where being a wife of the Pandavas made her no different from the unmarried women.*
Remember? Do you?
*When inside 1 in 10 houses,
A little girl complains to her mum,
It hurts me in there Maa.*
Remember? Do you?
*The night,
When a girl lay all naked and battered on the road,
When a friend of her's was as helpless as the lost kid at the course.*
Remember? do you?
The nights when people marched with candles in their hands,
The days when we witnessed protests.
*Days after days,
Months after months,
Years after years,
Didn't you,
All of you, tried to build us?*
The ones who were too small to understand,
The ones who were capable enough to understand,
And the ones who understood what all this actually meant.
*From the cheap comments passed
To the guidelines to dress-up,*
You filled our heads,
With the thoughts which were never meant to be there.
From all those sad old lines to the new generation trends,
You made us cautious yet scared.
While there were dreams to be accomplished,
And words that were unsaid,
*Your efforts to build us,
Made us question our own existence.*
*With every tantrum and argument we throw,
We have something for you to know, you know,*
Caging us won't do us any good,
While letting us live without the not so needed guidelines will do.
Set us free and cage the ones who needs so,
For the day you would realise,
*Is merely a hypothetical concept you would know.*
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 2:01 AM UTC
When I was younger I wrote of cops and robbers
Killers, chases, drugs and thrillers
One specific story that was my favorite chiller-
Hitting big money houses in a quiet town,
What a young burglar grabbed was something he'd better off not found
A suitcase full of treasures not
What he thought was heavy with cash, commodities
Was weighted with remains of bodies.
Can't risk jail, no, he can't pay his bail
So when the killer came looking
The only thing to do was to cover up his trail.
I never finished the story, writing it was kind of boring.
I was busy drinking and exploring when
One night I met a man, and he was telling me this story
How he was almost caught robbing this old man's home
And of the couple things he gathered, a suitcase was one.
No- it wasn't full of literal bodies
Maybe this time, some actual commodities.
But he sold them soon after, to get money for his drugs and whatever else he revered.
That he introduced to his friends that he turned to cold bodies with his endeavors.
So my story plays out in metaphors and its true that rich old men can be killers too
Like the one in my town with the corpses in the walls
I wondered, if plundered, would the killer turn the burglar into another number
And finish my story for me.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 9:32 PM UTC
You are everything I've been waiting for
Angels sometimes need help to make their wings sore
An honor
It would be, to help you fly so you will realize your beauty
Every time I see your smiling face your eyes make me look down to my hands to see if this is reality
My chest, has always felt so weightless
When what I say makes you grin that's a blessing to the human race You are everything I've been looking for
I just pray that you don't realize that you can do far more better than I
If I ever become yours, remember me when you ascend to the kingdom in the sky
It kills me, to speak to you and not make you laugh
Though I always have little to say, the withdrawal of not talking to you drive me insane
You are surely everything I've been looking for
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC