the stone had been left alone
to trek in search of a pool
that when a child offered the stone a floatie
the stone turned down the offer  
to drown
in the “stone’s special pool”
maybe the insecurity/pride/resentment
adding a extra ton or two

For a week a man laid stiffen,
Was alive for his funeral in his coffin,
He admired the awing voices of the local choir,
For a second forgot why it was grimier,
He disapproved the chosen reverend,
For his summons would go on on end,
He couldn’t get over the irony so strong,
So many heartbeats for a summary a page long,
For a moment he wished he was dead,
For his mother retold childhood stories, turning his face red,
His love for his wife was renewed,
For on her face she had his buttocks tattooed,
He let out a silent one when his friend spoke,
Gas so deadly he could of choke,
He was irritated by his mother-in-law,
Lying that she loved him when he was her daughter’s biggest “flaw”,
His son had his heart overwhelmed,
Saying all the words in his pronunciation realm.

With his joy overflowing,
And the guilty for the tears growing,
The wise man bursted from his hiding place,
Embracing everyone, ignoring their confused face!

You might call the wise man mad,
While we are alive we insult, we make people sad,
But when they die, we utter praises, but they can no longer be glad.

Life is a dice with four frightening faces,
Two faces with eyes seeing some joy and peace,
While you’re given another year,
Others are denied another taste of life,
Why? Well, this life no balance.

Others must sleep “comfortably” in a box or urn, River flowing from mother’s eyes. Shock fawning
sister’s eyes- soon she’ll also have a river,
The fat lady angelically burps every note with
a vein fighting for freedom from her fat neck
and furious eyebrows on her Ferrari red face,
Emotions fail to change that this life no balance.

And your drunken uncle slurps though his story…
The uncle looks like his competing with the dead,
Joyless, soulless, lifeless, died. Keep a watch on him,
We don’t want to be back here next week.
Yet who loves being in a life with no balance.

Priest, enjoys excited couples not cold corpses,
said “We are higher when we are on our knees.”
even more closer when we lay six-feet under,
That makes sense ‘cause this life no balance.

Time with your friends is only borrowed,
Tell the friend, sit down, stop pacing on end,
His racked with guilt when time is who to blame,
He’s wasting tons of time trying to solve infinities,
It’s simply answered, this life no balance.

On your birthday, smile until your cheeks swell!
‘Cause this life no balance. Never has. Never will!

i write
This note
because it will serve as evidence
of us until the earth has to pass
Therefore
death do our bodies part
But Not
This note
and not our Love.
i promise…

To be powerless
To the situation
That keeps u captive
That keeps u detain
So u don’t fly
Or see the world
That is beyond
The horrible situation
Brother don’t be bothered
By fear
Or it’s seductive sister
Sadness
For u are powerful
Don’t let fear deter ur power.

Wake from the dark to a darker place,
Silent room, silent heart. Stillness,
There’s no oxygen and I’m suffocating
Maybe open a window and get out, ran away,
Prison! A square of four rough cement walls,
Dark, silent, airless, trapping bedroom-
Trapped mind.
All my thoughts before I take the morning pill.

What’s more poisonous?


Father drowning in barrels of wine
Or people pretending making it seem fine
Or drawing different conclusions
for the lack of open communication.
Or the raw white elephant head on the table
and the fact we just have to swallow it up.
Keep sipping on the resentment in our cups.

you fly
thinking
has
cupid given you wings
or it’s a valentines miracle
no,
love has
made you into
an angel
-so you think-
forgettin’ Wright Flyer II is higher, faster, funnier
u nosedivin’
thinking
the
man
has
taken
your wings
or it’s a post
valentines curse
no, his heart is bored
and you’re merely human

long stretches of disappointing time
have turned you blind
to your dreams
X

well, in this time i have grown my vision
now i play life’s game
with better timing and precision
O

blind as you are
you’ll trip on your past convictions
flat on your face, full of regret
X

i pray
i don’t become blind
the older i get
O

resume to live by my unwise heart
manoeuvre to where
my unsure mind sees best
O

and this is how i see i’ll win,
where you have lost,
in the cruel game of life
O

(3 O’s in a row. I win!)

or
is my youth
my fall
X

and i’m unawarely
walking down the same blinding path
as you
X

will i see
that i’m blind
life has got me outplayed and i lost?
X

You are sand,
You can be mud or glass,
Doesn’t understand this man,
Look! You are sand! Yet you act like gas.

Embrace each grain in your hands of sand,
Not your many personas you want to be classed
with! “Is this me or the acts I have surpassed”,
you ask but the truth isn’t really a demand,
Even truth’s light breeze feels like a harass.

Your remind me of sand,
Shape these fake ideas about yourself. Alas,
we bonded to what nature has planned.
Be glad, you can be mud or glass.