You came down like a gleaming sunbeam
One that gave me hope
I stared at the You the whole day
Waiting for Your call

Each time it turned a different hue
I grew sicklier and starved
Step by step I was edging
Closer to the cliff

You left me hanging
But also scared that
You would stamp on my hand
And leave me to my misery

Surely you won't dare?

But now retrospectively I see
Clearer than any brighter day
How things turn out to be
And I fall down the pit to eternity

Now I catch the words as they fall
Out from my mind into these
Words that I cannot appreciate
Until it is all over

When the eyes saunter past each line,
The frame begins to paint my mind.

With every bit of knowledge my brain is fed,
I grow wiser of what's alive and what's dead.

With each book I read, I add every tale
To an infinite-capacity weighing scale.

Each tale pulls weight on the spectrum,
Bearing their own different conundrum.

Each story at times tip the scale left or right,
Or even set the scale as still as silent night.

Sometimes I wonder if all this reading,
All this adding, never-ending, has meaning.

I think that moving from book to book,
We approach the new with the previous look.

With every book that we add to our souls,
Comes a new colour, a new world, new goals.

Initially, it is a *******,
A sense of guilt,
Which drags you along
Like you are a piece of dirt.

You readily absorb and galvanise
Yourself with every single piece
Of filth that you are led along.

The next feeling
Is a sense of shameless pride.

You attain what you had been
Angry and afraid of for
Such a long, long time,
And the much needed freedom
Brightens yours state,
Albeit temporarily.

You ask yourself,
Why did you bother so,
So much
About what others had condoned
Or condemned, for right now
You feel like a champion,
A victorious gladiator.

There wasn't any need
For lengthy, elaborate
Expressions of the Raphaelites.
You just needed to do it,
Get over it,
And be done with it.

Then the post-season arrives.
It ironically, is not
A revived sense of guilt
That you expected, but rather,
It developed a different feeling.

You felt disrespected.

You feel debased et reduced,
Like an animal,
With animalistic instincts.

But you are.

And that angers you,
And damages you
In a weird way.
You resort to the moves
And actions of
The intellectuals you know,
For they would never
Have been thought of
As animals.

Do they?

For me, I write.
I write to write away
(Or away from reality?)
The animal inside
That succumbs to
Animalistical desire.
Annoying, infuriating,
But the writing has to be done.

Somehow I feel better now

There is nothing,
Just plain Emptiness.
Then, an Evil brings,
An Infinite Duress.

A Kaleidoscope brings
More Colour and Life
Than the Place could Sing,
Of Bliss and Strife.

The World around me is Crying,
For the Undeserved Suffer a Crime,
That the Evil Made, and is Trying,
To Strike us down in our Prime.

I pray the Dullness will Retreat,
To other Crevices of Society,
Away from the Benevolent and Greet,
Instead, the Evil People as its Company.

Wilted flowers,
Broken stems.
I tie a string around,
I try to mend.
The heart's the core,
Protect it well -
Or its heat runs out!

I grab a petal,
Gently caressing its skin-
Soft tapestry on a magnificent building-
You could be!
If I weaved you all together,
Like how ropes are made from
Strands of fibre wound together.

I could meld you into a flag
That I can wave, that I can touch,
Sometimes, in a rush,
You can wave for me to others 'Goodbye!',
As you flutter from my behind.

I could hang you on the sky,
Perched on the highest peak of the pole.
You with the owl's sight peer
Into the distance, tell me - what's there?
And we can laugh - together.

"We are crazily imperfect.
Yet every second you appear to me,
and your being is in my perception
the best and most ideal."

"My mind jolts away
from any possible faults I can find of you.
My adoration for you
transcends across any time period;"

"The Astrophil to the Stella,
The Darcy to the Jane,
The Romeo to the Juliet,
The Adam to the Eve,
The Troilus to the Criseyde,
A song that sings for ages,
and lasts for an eternity."

"The flowers bow down their blooms in shame,
for they cannot best your beauty in comparison.
The moon wanes from your presence,
for she cannot act so gentle across my eyes.
The sky lark ceases its sweetest songs,
for it fails to shine when I hear your soothing voice.
The lion prowls away in fear,
for your countenance outlines a stalwart composure."

"When you are so flaw-free in my eyes,
the more I desire to conserve you;
Your pristine character, and your pure beauty.
I feel an even stronger need
to stop all the external vice and wrongs in the world
from latching onto you.
I grow protective, appreciative, and sometimes,
even a bit controlling.
But I do so, think so,
all because
I
love
you."

Now do you understand?

A sudden whisper
Of emotions
Left my body.

Its residue,
Is a smile.
On my cheeks.

It is only through written words
that I feel a silenced voice can have its own
projections and room to roam a space.
A minority’s opinions are ignored
and taken less to consideration because
of a majority’s desire to make their stand the right one.
So, where the world listens at their call
to 'maintain order and progress' in a society,
we the silent, the quiet, the compromised, will step forward
in writing to push the envelope and attempt a freedom,
one they cannot prevent. That is, the need to express our frustrations, our inner want for freedom and more importantly, a recognition
in the littlest of spaces – that of blank pieces of paper.

I like to bask in
the good memory and kiss
the bad one goodbye

hurts from afar
a spell
that draws me in
closer
more intense
more danger

Poetry is our love,
It enshrouds us from strange view.
Poetry is our potion,
It refuels our life anew!

Each stanza is a period,
That tells us its own message,
Each stanza separates,
But when united, is our beloved passage.

Every line a single sentiment,
They're arranged to tell and flow.
Every line when read altogether,
Makes the poem a beautiful whole.

Words are my portal,
That conveys from me to you.
Words are my conscience -
That spreads only the right rule.

The letters stringed together,
Each can still stand alone.
The letters squeeze together,
Like a humbled family I own.

I witness the sentient waters
As they try to eschew the riverbank.
The elves that spring out, back and forth
Were the real salmon that are pitching the waterfall summit-
Guiding the current that playfully twists and bends
To make a curtesie of the water spirit.

The Wind, so angered by their defiance
Hurls a gust to correct the abnormality.
‘Twas her firm command that demands
Order in the river’s coyness and song –
Blowing with such force it pushed them
Back to where they’re supposed to belong.

“Rev up, my fellow elven spirits,
your time is nigh!” called the Mother,
Maternal to all the elvish imps.
Do not catch a breath, do not stagger in adversity!
Your time to come is nigh!” she whistled.
Her voluminous arms swept the elves right into the air,
Carrying them, rapt and far and high,
Like little dancing cradles her arms cheerfully sweep,
Each push got them higher to the deep blue sky.
The elven spirits cheer and wiggle, their joy was bright –
As they celebrate profusely as their freedom
Was lit well in the night!

Many shun me for how I look.
Yet envy me for how I think.
But I'm just like the stars -
My Youth arises from the brink
And up it goes to the horizon!

Look at the burning constellation
As they emit their gleaming rays
And radiate a passionate fervor...
Transient, only lasting for days
It's time I shine bright!

Stare at me deeply through the night
And find that my gaze's a labyrinth
That enraptures your every attention
That I was ugly was just a myth...
I just age like fine wine!

Before we run out of time,
You'll find my Pandora's box
With curiousity creeping in,
You excitedly open its lock
And find my darkest secret.

Love. Will you take me?

Set me free
And I'll grant you my wings
As we fly
For eternity.

I live in fear
That I cannot say another word;
The pain descends
On me like a thousand bursts;
Slicing my torso in two.
The burning flame accumulates in my chest
I just want to let it out-
The ebb and flow of unspeakable tones
Articulated from my ***** into letters
Of scarlet-red BLOOD :
Bearing my shame,
My anguish,
My torment
But most of all, my happiness
And faith.

Sometimes I still open my box of memories,
Only to remember the __ you sent me.
All its good, bad and crazy, ____
still lives __in that ___.
I still__ about you every time,
When my mind rests and returns to_.
Your__and what we did last time,
Forever cannot be undermined.
Ages ago the mind would tell me, "Forget it,"
"Why do you still want to think about_?"

But the more I paint over the hole in the painting in my mind,
I keep getting reminded the hole was there.
Maybe this painting, this __ , is meant to exist,
Meant to be remembered. We may feel __ about it,
But it will always be a part of us.

We may change it, amend it, try to paint over it,
But it always stays there, the original remains a scar.
However it doesn't feel like a scar anymore if you just change
The way you see it.

Like Adam and Eve,
We were made from Dust.
The same old dreams,
The same old lust.

Where farthest aspirations
Were carved in clay,
Now thrive in contemplation
Narrated on screens today.

We share the same pigment
That colors our blood within,
Yet we change treatment
When color varied on skin.

Each word on paper once declared
Human ideals and potential
For Love and Care.
No White, Yellow or Black preferential.

May it one day, be done and there.

He ripples out
Like a stone hurled into tranquil waters
Effecting everyone around him.

A miraculous flow of events
led me back to you
I don't often weep as I write
but today my typing is doused with tears
of Happiness.

Accidentally, I uncovered memories of the Past
that I cannot return to
Regret is the only thing I can do
Pity is the only sadness I feel
apart from great, bubbling Bliss.

The memory unearthed
like buried treasure
it's contents are still
good as new, brings me
immense Joy.

I still want to pursue it,
like a naive child
with his favorite pearl
that shines and
never Dulls.

I hear in the distance:

"Ring A Ring O’ Roses        
A Pocket full of posies    
Atishoo! Atishoo!      
We all fall down"

I grab your hand: Maybe if I held on longer?

"The cows are in the meadows,
Eating buttercups,
Atishoo! Atishoo!
We all jump up!"

It's ending: I don't want to let go!

I, will always remember this moment we had together.

"Fishes in the water,
Fishes in the sea,
We all jump up,

With a 1, 2, 3!"

The spirit trapped in the abyss
The beast trapped in its cage
Its bellows
Its whimpers
Their distant screams

It pierces my ears, makes them bleed.
It gorges on my heart, makes it obsolete.
It gouges my eyes, makes me lose sight.
It smites my skin, makes me feel numb.

Lost were the days
The zenith
that stood, proud.
Where are you now?

When my hands
succumb into numbness,
When my feet
descend into paralysis,
Would it catch your sight?

Will my little whimper
fading into silence,
Would it touch gently down
on your ears?

When the last
Spirit and Breath
Dissipates

Will anyone bat an eye?
Would it mean anything

Around the cacophony, as I die?

If the walls crumble
I can rebuild them again
I can remember
The coal they brought me
In the harsh winter

Like teeth and lips
That cannot survive
Without each other
If they fight, it only ends up
Hurting themselves harder

Sometimes follies happen
But what care the world of us?
When we have ourselves
To brave the frontiers
And storm the rest?

Criss-cross, Wandering Rocks
Scylla and Charybdis I cross.

At the crossroads where I walk,
Which path do I go, am I lost?

What is evil, what is light?
The courtier chose silk or samite?

Do our leaders know, or do we fight?
What exactly is wrong and what is right?

The sun has just risen
He awakens another day

Stop selling me insurance
that I cannot pay

His posture stiffens,
getting ready for daily commute

Another round he goes
of that nightmarish brute

that he has to see
Everyday at his job

The cycle keeps going on
Until the day his heart stops

But before that, nothing obstructs the decree
He keeps to the routine line

Before the law, no individual rises
Work is the only sign

Get out of the system, before
its too late;

When the darkness consumes you
that will be your last fate.

He lost his job yesterday
But the bills, they just kept comin'

I feel young recently
But time itself, it just kept movin'

She lost her beloved
But the memories, they just kept emergin'

I saw my ex-lover
But when we laid eyes, we just kept goin'

He met his lost friend
But when he tried to talk, he just kept leavin'

The dog dropped its treat in the river
But when it tried to get it, it just kept driftin'

The poem tried to end itself
But when it reached here, it just kept goin'

The poet tried to find himself
But he failed, he just kept writin'

The couplets tried to find reason
But alas, continuation just kept happenin'

Time must go on, even if we chose to stay
But time is impartial. It just keeps goin'

My hunger escalates
Like the pooch that wanders the streets
Scavenging for the desired scent of food
To plaster the sting of a Belladonna
That lingers in the stomach

The affliction intensifies
I try to move my enfeebled limbs
But to no avail; they remain stale
Like parts of a run-down rusted machine
Which only screeches when moved

My thirst deepens
Like my spirit was siphoned away
My throat shrivels and dries
Clearing it is like rubbing sandpaper
I reach desperately for it

I caught it.
Was it satisfying? It sure was!
I can almost taste it, sweet succulent success
It sated my fervour but now I'm not sure
Because it leaves me wanting more.

Sauntering steps on the slippery street
Along the streaks of ebony concrete
Cold feet

I crunch my sneakers on the sandy surface
Of the road, moist with dirt and soil I trace
My face

Behind the scenes of every shop awoke
A foul breath of soot and smoke
I choke

I hear the hustle of the markets ahead
The dog across the street it sped -
A wreck

I'll stay in the alley, most quiet place
To bask in the tranquility of this space
Embrace

Lights glaring
Sounds blaring
Mind is in a whirl

Green shrubbery
Wild cacophony
Lost in the deep woods

Dash forcefully
Fall unwittingly
Drowning in the shallow waters

Toss and turn
Goes the gyro
The clock will never stop

Tick and tock
Goes the hand
When will the poor mind drop?

My insides are hollow
My outside is a face

I used to be alive
Now I'm the dead

A green crown I wore
I used to rule the land

But t'was stolen from the hand
That places sweet sentiments
Right inside my head

When my fingers run cold
With a shade of juniper blue;
Like crusts of frost were on my fingertips
They shiver like gentle ripples in a pool

Toss me a book from the Alcove
And set my world ablaze
Take me to inspired sunsets;
Let me relinquish the icy glaze

As my body chills to the marrow, Let
The powers of our mind forget
The scalding freeze, but instead set
The mind free from all that threat.

Let us read then, in the Alcove,
Hunched in wool blankets,
As we ride from reality’s icy world
Into our fantastical sunset.

It’s interesting to see
That when we have it, we love it
That when we don’t, we loathe it
We attach so much emotion, so much pain
So much amusing, so much taint

I want to pull myself out, pull the plug
Rise from the ashes, emerge from the quicksand
But its necessity and functionality
Has rooted so much of natural life
So much interaction to it
It’s integral, never ethereal
It can never be.
–I need to master the rules, then break it
Only to lose again…?

I remember the days
We used to kneel
By the river
And yelled heatedly there

Our shouts echoed
Across the tepid river
The fishes swam
Bubbling without care

The world was ours
And ours truly
When nothing else followed
Our burning passions headed there

As if the moment froze in time
If we got cold winds from outside
Worlds, we would yell no in thunder
And tremble the air warm again.

Now the reminiscing
Gives me a slight, chilly despair
For I knew if those days held its place
We could do anything, we could fight anywhere

Where has that youthful courage, that fiery ardor gone?

Golden brown, a lush trickle
Flows like curly, hanging moss
That tells its own story.

The creepers latch tightly, before two caverns
Black contours surround them
Darkness in the caverns, out flies an angelic flare
Into the wild.

Mountain peak rises, a ridge
It supports a twin fork crown
Down below, it gallantly holds a steed down

Red rivers, a soft powder
Decorates the salient structure
It shines and draws an infectious smile
Raising my ears and lifts my eyes.