I feel my words haven't rung true from the start
Because crucially
The reality
is I was never that good to begin with

I only wanted to make some light out of this dark
But the emotion is
A bloatedness
Of my own self-inflated ego and pride

I could never call this as an attempt at art
Nor should others
There are greater wonders
By those who can truly inspire

But still, I try to play my own small part
In this scene
Against philistines
To fail is never a reason to retire

a sip of yesterday morning's coffee reminds me of you
cold and bitter and "what else would you expect"; you'd say
i keep drinking, knowing i could and should drink something better
but i don't, i can't, and i won't
this is life how i choose to make it;
an endless cycle of coffee I'll never drink when I'm supposed to, but will always finish

You look at me
like you’ve seen God.

Your eyes are the greatest
depths of the ocean while
I’m afraid to wade up
to my waist on the shores.

It’s as if every care you
have in the world has been
replaced by your sudden
desire to touch my lips.

I know your heart is a storm,
but it thunders to know the sun again.

you with new moon eyes
and i without mind
between the echoes of screams
we lay here dreaming
you stare back at me
holding a ball of nails
while walls of fire
collapse about us

roused by medulla
fear manifest in blood
seeing and hearing
and ignoring the darkened world
internal chemical stimulus
separate from awareness
sparking the primitive
imperfect and savage brain

my pulsar heart
mirrors the flickering
of images and terror
that haunt my sleep
my black hole eyes
radiate oblivion
and swallow the light
I need to live

Night flower that blooms tonight in my garden,
night dewed, stands still
as the moisture carrying breeze gently caresses its petals...
Dry summer smell that evaporates from the baked earth
mingles with the redolence that exudes from the night flower
and flows mutely with a blithe disregard...
It reaches you, balmy still, while you are fast asleep...
You  dream of a distant person,
the one who meets you oftentimes in your dreams;
perceiving his presence by his scent that engulfs you in a reverie...
In the morning,
when you wake up,
won't you tell me that you had a good night's sleep?
Won't you tell me that you remember
about the faint fragrance of Night Jasmine
that still lingers on your mind
and that you won't forget about it for times to come?
Won't you tell me now?
Won't you?

walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, who is that man?
You try so hard
But you dont understand
Just what youll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, is this where it is?
And somebody points to you and says
Its his
And you say, whats mine?
And somebody else says, where what is?
And you say, oh my god
Am I here all alone?

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, how does it feel
To be such a freak?
And you say, impossible
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

Youve been with the professors
And theyve all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
Youve been through all of
F. scott fitzgeralds books
Youre very well read
Its well known

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Now you see this one-eyed ******
Shouting the word now
And you say, for what reason?
And he says, how?
And you say, what does this mean?
And he screams back, youre a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?