#indecent
upon reading your poem
Tremor^
and this what I think:
when reading your seamless
writing connecting of moments
of immortality,
only one question remains,
why, does our own writing
not approach the level of your exquisite precision
soul's ***********
is it our
own immorality
that permits our soon-to-be-
discontinued pretenses,
wherein, whereby,
we can still believe
our own words should be
deservedly disowned,
disinherited to the
scrap heap heated,
burned, eradicated
and
why do we even try?
sigh
>.<
dare not read it twice,
lest my inked fingertips
surrender to my
indecent indecision
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 5:19 AM UTC
Dead soldiers, lined up in a row,
Short history, how many more to go?
Dead sailors, some of them in an alley
Not sailing anywhere anymore are they?
Dead airmen, and also dead marines.
What if we’d been where they’ve been?
Men and women, fathers and mothers
We are burying our sisters and brothers.
Hut, two, three, four,
What the hell are we fighting for?
Five, six, seven, eight!
I’ll go to heaven if it’s not too late!
Dead soldiers, not just bottles of beer;
More come back home dead every year.
Used people, we let them get thrown away
By listening to what rich crooks had to say
Their empty promises were all about glory
But remember, most of that word spells gory.
Expendables, in the Big Game of profit.
The proceeds, none of them ever got it.
Hut, two, three, four,
What the hell are we fighting for?
Five, six, seven, eight!
I’ll go to heaven if it’s not too late!
Salute and makes parades, of course
And pin the cheap medals on a corpse,
A kid under orders to invade and ****
Hoping leaders wake, but they never will.
The politicians get rich in office when
They sing patriotic war songs again.
Someday we all can stop all the killing
If love, providence and all gods are willing.
Hut, two, three, four,
What the hell are we fighting for?
Five, six, seven, eight!
I’ll go to heaven if it’s not too late!
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC
Hold obliquely this bunch of flowers with that smile,
to you my gift, "Exotic", your eyes acknowledge it,
you know how to do it, so that the selfie we post
would turn many a head, invite likes, though reluctant
needs to be counted as bullets pumped by jealous minds.
Now listen to this mandatory advice, once more
I shouldn't desist, voicing this in any case.
Don't be generous to me, expecting nothing in return
as I am your lover, in fact I myself am an exploiter,
who is shameless. isn't it the order of the day?
I am aware, it's bad karma out and out,
yet can't help it, let's be open about it,
now tell me this, how much can I bribe you,
for a grand kiss next, today's last perhaps.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC
These hours & days of loneliness,
Just after a flop love story,
I wanted not.
I desired not,
'Roun' the ticking clock,
Goin' 'lone in the scary nights.
Separation from my will to live,
Knowin' I was just a pastime,
I required not.
I needed love,
Just truthful love,
Not just another infidel.
Soldier of real world,
I fought naught for money,
But for honour and patriotism.
Back home it waited,
I could not fight my lover,
My killer in guise of infidelity.
My mortal remains be taken,
Away from this world,
Into outer space.
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 2:57 PM UTC
What's wrong with us getting together?
Conquering the world or conquering a
Fresh cup of coffee? What's wrong with
Being a pair, or being the friend sitting next to me?
What's wrong with just being different?
Being the one in purple, or being the one
With the suit and tie? What's wrong with
Being yourself in a world made for girl & guy?
Where's the innocence in taking control?
Having to mop up after the "worldly crowd?"
Or having to see you've made a mess for once,
Taking time to come down from your power cloud.
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
I tried to say my honest reflection,
But the words are still not bare.
I tried to change my peripheral,
But still in blinding sunshine,
And never has been discerned.
The feeling is unbearable
Though I never hollered.
But shared much weariness.
Everyday I see you more,
Let's say I need you more.
You brought smile once
Then now, I just can't.
Now I wished more,
More than the talk we talked,
More than your perception.
More than reality.
I wished to be older,
Then I'd be appropriate for you,
Then we'll be in same generation,
When that Sir is more than gone.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 9:06 AM UTC